Mask: A Rory Mack Steele Novel, #11

By Eugene Lloyd MacRae

A serial killer is on the loose, killing at random, stabbing victims straight through the heart with an ancient weapon. Bodies are piling up through Italy, France, Germany, Switzerland, the United States and into Canada. When an arrest is made because of a DNA sample left at a crime scene, despite the overwhelming evidence, Private Investigator Rory Mack Steele is still hired by the accused's family to find the truth. But the truth is poisoned by the distant past and a dark, hidden secret. A secret so painful it threatens to engulf thousands in agonizing and bloody death.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Eugene Lloyd MacRae
• Release date: Jun 22, 2015
• ISBN: 9781927767160

Eugene Lloyd MacRae

Eugene Lloyd MacRae lives on Canada's South Coast in Ontario. He is the author of the Rory Mack Steele series of novels and several family history books. He began writing novels after a near-fatal heart attack in March, 2012 left him lying in bed with little to do. He began pecking away on a Blackberry Playbook he had bought 2 months before and the characters that emerged kept him company.

Book preview

Chapter 1

PARIS, FRANCE

MAX BERETTA DIDN'T KNOW it would be the last time he closed his eyes while still alive. The heat in Paris had been oppressive and Max tossed and turned, his old apartment on Île Saint-Louis a hot-box. The owner of the boulangerie had begun his morning routine at 3:15 am, two hours early, slamming doors, rattling baking pans and tripping the courtyard lights off and on, waking everyone within earshot. His neighbors had chosen to engage in a shouting match with the owner. Max chose to close the glass doors to the balcony. He had to get some sleep. His ten-year-old daughter was expecting his weekly visit and he had promised her a trip to Le Parc Zoologique de Paris. Max drifted off into a light sleep, wondering if his ex-wife would have her ready this time.

MAX HALF-OPENED HIS eyes. The heavy, dark air clung to his eyelids. He was aware of a soft breeze gently stroking the white lace curtains across the room. But I closed the glass doors to the balcony. I don't remember getting up. It took a few moments for his eyes to focus and then a shock ran through him like cold water. His hands began to react but it was already too late. The horror played out in slow motion. A dark figure was over top of him. A raised hand over the head of the figure moved downward. A long knife glinted gently in the moonlight before it plunged into his chest. It pierced straight through his heart and into the mattress, pinning him to the bed. He wondered if this was how the butterflies pinned down in his collection in the study felt. In the ten seconds of life he had left, he watched as a gold mask slowly moved down towards his face. And the very last thing he saw before eternity enveloped him was a pair of beautiful, green eyes watching the last breath leave his body.

ONE YEAR LATER

CBS News Flash, Toronto Canada.

"Good evening, I'm Bryer Taylor-Johnson. Police sources report that the international serial killer known as The Mask has struck again here in the city. The latest victim has been identified by Chief of Police Lynzey Nash as Chester Wayne Horvat, age 31 and living at Commonwealth Court in the Jane & Finch area. Mr. Horvat was a Law Professor at Osgoode Hall Law School. His body was found in his apartment on the twelfth floor by a fellow faculty member after he had failed to show up at the school for the second day. Horvat was stabbed through the heart like the other twenty-five men and women killed on two continents over the last twelve months.

The killing spree is said to have started one year ago when the body of Giuseppe Maximillian Cantolini was found lying in the kitchen of his tiny apartment in Rome, Italy. The next known killing took place two weeks later with the death of Max Carlo Beretta in Paris, France.

It took six months before Interpol in Europe, the FBI in the United States and the RCMP in Canada were able to make a link with similar deaths in Germany and England to deaths in New York, Atlanta, Baltimore, New Orleans, Philadelphia as well as here in Toronto. With the murder of Professor Horvat, the death toll now stands at twenty-seven. All the victims were stabbed through the heart in what psychiatrists say appears to be a ritualistic killing.

An international task force has been put together, led by Inspector Felix Archambault from Interpol in Lyon, France. However, to date the only evidence police have ever released is the now-infamous picture you see on your screen that has been circulating worldwide. It shows a shadowy figure, dressed in black, wearing a gold mask and carrying a long, slim dagger. Despite numerous leads, no identity has ever been established for the person in the picture. And beyond the ritualistic killing angle, no motive has ever been firmly established for the serial killings.

Anonymous sources say local police have no few clues in the death of Professor Horvat and are continuing to seek out any witnesses that might have seen anything or have any information that may be of help in the case."

Chapter 2

TORONTO, CANADA

RORY MACK STEELE stood outside Cherrod Tower on Bay Street. It was an impressive glass and steel structure, rising fifty floors and standing firm in the middle of Toronto's financial district. The area (bounded roughly by Queen Street to the north, Young Street to the east, Front Street to the south and University Avenue to the west) was also the financial heartland of Canada. It was densely packed with banks, corporations, corporate headquarters, major stockbrokers, every insurance company and accounting firm you could imagine, as well as high-powered legal firms filled with high-priced corporate, civil, legal and taxation lawyers. But James Arthur Cherrod was none of those. He was a venture capitalist who invested in biotechnology, bioengineering and biomedical engineering companies through his own entity, Cherrod Capital. In return for his capital investment in a company, Cherrod demanded a large equity stake in the company as well as the ability to take control. If you made a lot of money for him, there were no problems. But if he didn't like where the company was headed, he took control.

Rory was here to meet with James Cherrod on a possible case. A Private Investigator with Highland Investigative Services, a family business started by his Uncle Murdock MacLeod in New York City, Rory had joined the company, opening a branch office in Toronto after a ten-year stint in the Canadian Army, the last six years with the Canadian Special Operations Regiment. The army had been used to salve his wounds after his teenage bride, Kitty Black, had died from cancer less than six months after their wedding. Rory had found it difficult to forgive himself for not being able to save her. One army shrink said it haunted him. Another said it drove him. Both agreed it created a need to help others, despite personal danger. Rory wasn't sure about the haunted part, or if it was self-inflicted punishment or penance, but it gave his life purpose.

Entering the wide glass doors at the entranceway, Rory found himself in a soaring atrium that reflected the immense wealth Cherrod's company had accumulated over the last thirty years. Checking in with the security guard behind the main security desk, Rory was directed away from the bank of elevators that was used by everyone working for the company or visiting the building. Instead, he was told to use the single, private elevator off to the right. The plush elevator car took him directly to the top floor. When Rory stepped out, he was met by a tall, beautiful blonde in a crisp, white blouse and a solid-red pencil skirt. A whiff of expensive, delicate perfume hung in the air.

Please follow me, Mr. Steele, she instructed in a smooth, confident voice. She turned and walked down a short hallway before stepping through an open doorway, the frosted-glass door being held open by a tall, husky man in a dark suit.

Rory glanced down at the blonde's long, tanned legs as she walked ahead of him. He sensed a glare from the man holding the door open. He looked up and gave the man a wink.

The man didn't crack a smile.

The serious demeanor, the small curly wire extending from the vicinity of his right ear and down into his jacket...along with the bulge of a gun under his jacket...told Rory this man was a well-trained security guard and probably ex-military.

The door closed behind him and Rory followed the woman down another short hallway. He heard footsteps following. Glancing back, he saw it was the security guard. These people are serious about security.

The blonde walked past another hallway leading off to the right and then opened another frosted-glass door. She stepped through, leaving the door open behind her without looking back.

Rory walked through the doorway to find himself in a large, opulent office. A large cherry-wood desk sat on the right, stretching across the front of a large glass window looking out over the financial district. A man sat behind the desk. Another man sat in one of the two plushy chairs on this side of the desk.

The security guard closed the door behind Rory, his husky frame visible through the frosted-glass as he stood guard.

Mr. Steele is here, sir, announced the blonde who then disappeared through a door on her left.

The man behind the desk stood up and walked around the desk towards Rory. Mr. Steele, thank you for coming. I'm James Arthur Cherrod. He held out his hand.

Rory sized the man up as they shook hands. Cherrod was Rory's height at 6 foot 2, slim with gray, slicked-back hair and a gray, sculpted beard. The man's hands, however, were quite large and Rory's almost disappeared inside as they shook hands.

Cherrod turned and indicated the other man who had stood up from his chair, And this is Garvin DeGurre, my lawyer.

Rory had to step across to the man to shake hands. He assumed the man's unwillingness to step forward to meet Rory was a power-play. An effort to assert authority. Then again, Cherrod's method of shaking hands with overly-determined eye contact was also a method to impress and assert authority. These were definitely two A-type personalities, constantly jockeying for the upper hand in their business affairs.

Please sit down Mr. Steele, Cherrod said as he indicated the other plush chair.

Rory sat down, glancing around at the room. Expensive looking art hung on every wall and a tall, potted plant stood in the far corner. There were no bookshelves or any other type of furniture. He didn't spot any personal or family pictures either. A rich looking but cold, austere room. Like the owner?

DeGurre sat back down in the other plush chair, crossing his legs and his arms as he looked across at Rory.

Cherrod took his place in the high-backed chair on the other side of the desk. He took a thick, brown envelope that was sitting on the corner of the desk and tossed it over to land in front of Rory, This is the starting fee your office said was required.

Rory looked at the envelope. The toss was another effort to assert authority over the person who was on this side of the desk. Rory calmly leaned forward and pushed the envelope back a couple of inches, Thank you. But I haven't said I'd take the case yet.

Cherrod looked at Rory for a brief moment and then over at his lawyer. He then looked down and took a deep breath. He spoke without looking up, I'm sure you've heard of the serial killer known as The Mask?

Rory nodded, It's been all over the news for the last year. Twenty-seven people, fifteen men, and twelve women, killed on two continents. The last one was Chester Wayne Horvat here in Toronto. Each one stabbed through the heart–

My daughter has been arrested and is about to be charged with Horvat's murder. And all those other crimes, Cherrod said as he looked up into Rory's silver-blue eyes.

Rory was stunned, I didn't know they had made an arrest. I would've assumed it would be on the news–

I was able to stop everything in its tracks, DeGurre said firmly.

Rory looked over at the lawyer.

Temporarily, he added as he looked across the desk at Cherrod.

Rory looked across at Cherrod as well. Did this man have that much power? To stop a member of his family from being charged as a serial killer?

DeGurre bent over and retrieved a brown file folder from a briefcase on the floor beside his chair. He handed the folder to Rory, This is the gist of their evidence.

Rory hesitated a moment.

I'm acting as the criminal defense lawyer for Mr. Cherrod's daughter and the Ontario Attorney General is a friend, DeGurre explained. The Crown attorney would have stalled turning over all the evidence as long as possible to gain an advantage – especially in a high profile case like this. But he was instructed to give me this immediately.

That made sense to Rory. But it also emphasized the fact that these two men were powerful and well-connected. He took the folder in hand, noting it had a label with the name Kayci Eryn Cherrod printed on it. Flipping it open, he looked at the thick collection of papers inside. The top paper listed personal information on the suspect. Rory looked it over quickly. I see your daughter works with you, Mr. Cherrod.

Yes, Cherrod said. Kayci holds a Master's degree in Business Administration as well as a Master's in Financial Accounting. She travels extensively to visit the companies we fund, to make sure everything is being handled the way we expect.

Rory nodded as he looked at the second paper. It was a batch reference sheet to other files, including travel itineraries, customs reports and the personal diaries of Kayci Eryn Cherrod. The third paper listed the deaths attributed to The Mask. He glanced up at DeGurre.

DeGurre nodded slightly, Kayci was in every place where the murders took place. It's circumstantial evidence–

Or she was set up! Cherrod said angrily.

Rory looked over at Cherrod. This might be circumstantial evidence but it's also very damning to your daughter's defense.

Cherrod's jaw clenched and he ground his teeth as he looked down.

Rory looked back at the folder and it was the fourth paper that caught his attention...big time. He glanced up at both men and then looked back at the laboratory report. He looked the sheet over from top to bottom and then looked at the next sheet. He looked over at Cherrod.

Cherrod didn't say a word.

Rory saw a real sadness in the man's eyes. And he could understand why. He looked across to DeGurre.

DeGurre didn't say a word either.

He looked back at Cherrod, "This says they have DNA evidence from one of the crime scenes. It matches the DNA they got from Kayci through a court order."

Cherrod still didn't say a word, only gave a slight nod of his head.

Rory looked back at DeGurre, But how can I help? The circumstantial evidence was one thing. But this? As a lawyer you know very well that–

"That she will be convicted based on the DNA evidence, DeGurre said. But take a look at the next set of papers in that file, Mr. Steele."

There were two sheets stapled together that were the witness statement and he looked both over. When he realized what it said, he looked over at Cherrod, "According to this, you told the police she was with you...."

Cherrod nodded, Yes.

Rory took a deep a breath and set the papers back in the folder and closed it.

I know what you're thinking Mr. Steele, Cherrod countered. "I know parents, family members or loved ones often give false alibis to someone the police pick up for crimes. But I'm telling you the truth. She was with me–"

I was as skeptical as you are Mr. Steele, DeGurre interjected. He glanced at Cherrod and considered the man for a moment before looking back at Rory, This man pays me a lot of money, so you could say I'm highly motivated to believe anything he says.

Rory glanced at Cherrod, who seemed to want to give some retort to that last comment, but kept silent instead.

But I believe him, DeGurre said firmly.

Rory stroked his jawline as he considered the implications, given what they were saying. Is it possible she is innocent? He wanted to ask several questions but decided to keep his mouth closed. With men this powerful and used to keeping information close to the vest, he wanted to see what they were willing to give him. He waited for them to talk.

Cherrod nodded his head after a few moments of awkward silence, Yes, there are people...enemies...who would be willing to hurt me through my daughter like this...we think someone may have planted the evidence–

Or inserted it at some point in the investigation, DeGurre added.

Rory looked at DeGurre, That would imply someone on the inside. Why would they do that?

People can be bought, DeGurre said.

I have a lot of money, Mr. Steele, Cherrod said. "A lot of money. And so do many of my enemies. One million or even twenty million is peanuts when you're talking money in the billions as I do. They have enough money to pay for a lot of things...or people...to use against me."

Rory raised an eyebrow, Just to gain an advantage in business?

A lot of these enemies take it very personally, Cherrod added. And many are quite willing, even eager, to take revenge on a personal level as well.

Rory nodded his head in understanding. He tested both men a little further, So...you think someone set up this serial killer act to–

Of course not, DeGurre scoffed. "We're not idiots. Someone is using the serial killer to set up Kayci Cherrod. There was only one crime scene where DNA was ever found - Chester Wayne Horvat - and that itself is suspicious."

"Especially when it leads the police to someone I know was with me," Cherrod interjected forcefully.

Rory flipped open the folder and looked through the mound of evidence again. He pulled one of the pieces of paper out and stared at it.

That's the picture the police released to the papers, hoping to get a lead, DeGurre said. The police never said exactly how they obtained it.

The picture was eerie, with the image of a masked figure emerging from the darkness. The ominous glint of a long, narrow knife held at waist height was evident. The gold shaded mask seemed to float in the air. It was a chilling image, considering the victim was stabbed through the heart not long after.

The newspapers sensationalized everything by calling the serial killer The Mask, DeGurre said bitterly. It's highly unlikely any suspect will get a fair trial, with or without DNA evidence.

Does your daughter have a mask like this? Rory asked him.

Cherrod exploded, Of course not!

Rory looked up at him without reaction.

Cherrod bowed his head for a moment and then looked at Rory in earnest, I'm sorry, Mr. Steele. I'm just very concerned for my daughter–

Something suddenly occurred to Rory and it puzzled him. He thought about it for a moment and then vocalized that thought, How did the police know to get a DNA swab from your daughter? I see they had to get a court order. What evidence did they present to a judge to get it?

DeGurre was the one who got mad now. He sat on the edge of his chair, It had to do with Mr. Cherrod's son, Dr. Riley James Cherrod. He's a professor running a genomic research program at the University of Toronto. Riley and his fellow researchers, along with their students and other volunteers all had their own DNA profiles entered into a database kept by the Faculty of Medicine for teaching purposes. In their hunt for the killer, the police began a familial DNA search, combing through genealogical and medical databases across North America. They accessed the one at U of T as well–

Cherrod sprang forward in his chair and banged the side of his fist on the desk, "No one in that database gave permission for their DNA to be used in anything other than the university research project. No one, including my son."

Which is the matter I brought before the court, DeGurre said firmly. "The illegal DNA search they ran gave them a partial match, indicating a sibling, child, parent or another blood relative of Dr. Riley James Cherrod had committed the crime."

Cherrod sat back heavily in his chair, clenching his jaw.

I was able to halt the prosecution in its tracks because of that, DeGurre said. He looked over at Cherrod, But I imagine the courts will uphold the search eventually, considering the political pressure on two continents to solve the crimes, no matter what.

Rory could tell both Cherrod and DeGurre were unused to losing any battle they engaged in, business or legal. 

Rory closed the file.

We need you to figure out how this happened, Mr. Steele, DeGurre stated.

Rory looked across at Cherrod.

Cherrod nodded, grinding his teeth.

Rory wasn't sure if he was just angry at not being in control of a situation or worried about his daughter. But if there was a chance someone innocent was being framed....

Mr. Steele?

Rory looked at DeGurre. The lawyer was expecting an answer. Rory gave it some thought for another minute and then stood up, I'll see what I can do. Please have any additional evidence you receive from the prosecution sent over to my office as soon as you get it. No delays.

Of course, DeGurre said defensively.

"No delays, emphasized Rory again. These men were used to being in charge and Rory had to make sure he alone was in control. He didn't want anything held back or delayed. Especially with a serial killer involved. He placed his fingers on the thick brown envelope that contained his fee and slowly pushed it back towards Cherrod, Please contact my office and have this...and all other fees...paid electronically. And supply them with phone numbers and keep yourselves available."

Cherrod opened his mouth to speak –

But Rory spoke first, I'll be in touch. He wasn't going to listen to any protests or whining from men who were used to giving the orders. Kayci Eryn Cherrod's life depended upon his maintaining control. And maybe his own life as well, if he happened to cross paths with The Mask

DeGurre got up and buttoned his jacket. I'll walk Mr. Steele out, he said to Cherrod.

Rory allowed himself to be led back out through the door and down the hallways to the elevator.

The security guard followed at a discreet distance.

DeGurre stabbed the button and the elevator door opened immediately.

As Rory stepped inside the elevator car and turned around, he saw the lawyer step forward and hold the elevator doors open.

I've known Jim Cherrod for a long time. And I believe him when he says he was with his daughter that night, DeGurre said with a sober look in his face. But my believing it won't do anything in court against the evidence they have.

Rory considered the lawyer for a moment, thinking. Maybe she has an accomplice.

DeGurre nodded, I've thought the same thing. But the little girl I knew... His voice faded away as he seemed to look into the past. Then he let go of the elevator door, Let us know what you find, Mr. Steele. No matter what it is. I'll work with whatever you find.

Chapter 3

SOUTH-WEST DETENTION Center, Toronto

THE DOOR TO the private visiting opened and a guard stood in the doorway for a brief moment, looking at Rory and making sure he was the only one in here. Then he stepped back and nodded to his right. Through the open door, Rory could hear the hollow echo from the sounds of the nearby visiting room. People were talking, some louder than others, some were crying, there was the hollow boom of jail doors closing as someone was led back to their cell. And then there was the clanking of wrist and ankle shackles as someone was marched down the hall outside. A moment later, a guard escorted Rory's client into the room.

Kayci Eryn Cherrod was 5'10" tall with a trim, athletic figure. She had curly auburn hair, a heart-shaped face, full lips, and incredible emerald-green eyes. As the guard led her to the table, Rory noted she walked with her shoulders hunched over, as if she was expecting an attack at any moment. She made brief eye contact with Rory as the guard removed the shackles from her left wrist, slipped the chain through the U-bolt in the table and then reattached the shackle. The South-West Detention Center was the newest maximum-security facility and they were taking no chances with a notorious serial killer.

I'll be right outside if you need me, the guard said. He turned and walked out of the cell, clanging the door shut behind him. The sounds of the jail outside disappeared and they were left in a quiet room wrestling with the smell of disinfectant battling with sweat and urine.

Thank you for seeing me, Ms.Cherrod. I'm Rory Mack Steele–

I know, Kayci said as she glanced up, Garvin DeGurre told me you would be coming here to see me. He said you would be working on my case. And you can call me Kayci.

Rory nodded, All right. And you can call me Rory.

Kayci Cherrod nodded but didn't look up.

Rory wondered if other prisoners were hurting her, making her afraid. Are you all right? Is anyone in here bothering you? The other inmates? The guards...?

Kayci looked up at Rory and shook her head no. Then her eyes opened wide as she realized what Rory was concerned about. She shook her head no and spoke quickly, Oh no, nothing like that. She looked down at the table, This is just me. I'm just not very good with people.

Rory accepted that answer and decided to get right into matters, I understand your father was with you the night Chester Wayne Horvat was killed?

Kayci looked up and nodded vigorously, Yes. I have a condominium at Queen's Quay, overlooking the harbor front. I love to look out over the water while I paint.

Paint?

Kayci smiled as she nodded again, "Yes. I love to paint. Landscapes, water, architecture...."

Okay.

"Anyway, my father works long hours and he keeps a small loft not far away. He calls and walks over to see me from time to time. And he came over to visit me that night. The police don't believe me, but that is the truth. I'm telling you the truth."

Was anyone there with you when he came over? Did anyone see him?

Kayci shook her head no, Mr. DeGurre said they found surveillance footage of my father entering the front doors of the building, but nothing to prove I was there myself. The police say if he is telling the truth, then I wore a disguise and slipped out to commit the crime and my father is covering for me.

Do you know how many hours of surveillance footage they take each day? And how long they keep it? Rory asked her.

Kayci shook her head no and then shrugged, I expect Mr. DeGurre would know that. I'm sorry.

That's fine. I'll look into it later, Rory said.

I guess I should know things like that–

If there was footage of her coming in during a 34-hour period but never leaving, the defense would have to find some proof she wore a disguise. But there was that one major piece of damning evidence looming. Rory decided to go at her directly and bluntly, How do you explain the DNA they found at the crime scene? Rory watched for her reaction.

Kayci shrugged and her eyes misted, I...I don't know. It wasn't me. I swear to you, it wasn't me–

Did Chester Horvat dump you? Rory inserted quickly, is that why you were mad at him?

Kayci's eyes grew big and she shook her head, No... I didn't know him... I swear to you. I didn't know him–

Maybe it was self-defense? I can understand that–

No! No! Kayci cried in agitation. She tried to get up but was held in place by the chain through the U-bolt in the table. She struggled to free herself, I didn't do it. I didn't do it. I'm telling you I didn't do it.

Rory reached out to calm her down, Okay. I just needed to ask for myself–

They're going to kill me, she said with tears in her eyes as she continued to pull at the chain, setting up a loud banging, They're going to put me to death.

We don't have the death penalty in Canada–

The commotion caught the guard's attention and he appeared outside the cell door, Calm down in there.

Mississippi wants me extradited for the murder of the navy officer there, But I didn't do it! she cried.

The guard rushed in. Another guard rushed in behind him.

The government won't extradite you if the death penalty is on the table–

You can't promise that 100% can you? she yelled.

The two guards were on either side of her and grabbed her arms.

Kayci Eryn Cherrod fought back, pulling on the chain to free herself. Tears streamed