Mastermind is a roller coaster ride from the first page until its shocking conclusion. A psychopathological murderer leaves a trail of death in his quest for…for what? What could motivate a man to kill so many people? What is the payoff? Why?
Billionaire inventor Michael Case, assisted by the enigmatic Ying, NYC Chief of Detectives Hannah Gold, who has her own agenda, and others must discover the true identity of the killer before he strikes again. Framing Michael for the murders is just another brilliant step in the achievement of the murderer’s ultimate goals. They are all so much collateral damage.
The NYPD, Miami police department and the FBI combine their resources and brainpower to solve these crimes, but they are out-shown collectively and individually by Michael Case. His photographic memory, expertise in the area of psychopathology and creativity make him the de facto leader of the investigation.
If they cannot stop this madman and his rising body count, if he succeeds, then the world will be a much darker, more dangerous place. Everybody has secrets. Most of these are harmless, trivial. His secret ambitions constantly raise the ante and keep you glued to your seat, wondering what will be revealed on each page.
Mastermind is not only the story of a mind so depraved it is beyond comprehension, it is a story of love and friendship, of bonds tested to the ultimate limit and beyond.
Don’t read this at night, unless you plan to sleep with the lights on.
Gene Hodes is an international spy and ladies' man. He taught James Bond just a smattering of what he knows.
Robyn Weinbaum is actually a water fairy.
Prelude: Autumn 1980, Princeton, NJ
The killer tossed his clothes on the bathroom floor. Scalding hot water and soap removed the day’s grime. Although today had been a day of planning, not one of action, he still felt grimy. Having to be polite, pretending to care or show interest in the day-to-day activities of the plebeians he had to deal with was so tiring. He lay down on his bed, thinking that while he had always known he was different, a diamond amongst lumps of coal, it had never occurred to him that there were others like him or that there was a name to describe him. He’d always attributed his uniqueness to his extraordinarily high IQ. But he was wrong. His outstanding characteristic had nothing to do with his brilliance. This had been a week of revelation and enlightenment.
To discover that what set him apart was the result of something missing was a shock, almost as much of a shock as coming to the realization that he was not the only one. He’d always assumed that he and his sister were dodo birds, carrier pigeons, the only ones of their kind and doomed to extinction. He was both dismayed and gratified by the information.
A freshman at Princeton, he only registered for introduction to psychology because it fit the timeslot on his schedule. College gave him keys, information he’d need to unlock the world. Turning eighteen, going away to school, free from the restraints he’d grown up enduring. College marked the next step in his emancipation from the human race.
The professor, a rotund, balding man in his sixties, was expounding on the nature of abnormal personality disorders. Prof. Gruher had chosen psychopathic personality disorder as his topic for this mid-semester lecture because historically the students had always found it fascinating. The thinking process of persons with this cluster of personality traits was so alien to the ‘common man’ that listeners would sit, open mouthed, speculating on who amongst their acquaintances fit into the parameters of the disorder. He knew how enamored people were with the bizarre, the macabre, the horrifying, and the different. This particular disorder listed on the syllabus, during the time between midterms and finals when attention was at its nadir, guaranteed a full room and unwavering attention. The professor loved an attentive audience. Their popeyed stares were his applause, their shocked faces his “encore!”
The killer, slouching at his desk, sat bolt upright, his ears open, as the professor spoke. He never took notes, having been blessed with an eidetic memory. Today’s class was going to answer questions he’d been able to formulate only within the past few days.
“Class, today’s topic is the psychopathic personality, more commonly referred to as the sociopath,” said Prof. Gruher. “They are not just mass murderers, criminals, dictators. They are all around us, in every level, from the highest to the lowest.”