Place of birth: Mesto Roztoky, České Republiky.

Striker looked up the name of the town and saw that it was not far from Prague. He looked for any tattoo or scar descriptions, but found none. He scrolled down the page and came to a Remarks section.

What he saw made him smile.

Policie České Republiky

Person of Interest. Identity Fraud

Contact Detective Lundtiz. 974 852 319.

‘České?’ Felicia asked.

Striker nodded. ‘Police of the Czech Republic,’ he explained. ‘We got a legitimate possible.’

He picked up the landline and dialled. The number took a long time to connect, but then it started to ring. The man who answered spoke in limited English, but managed to convey to Striker that Detective Lundtiz was now Inspector Lundtiz, working in the Unit for Combating Corruption and Financial Crime.

He patched Striker through.

After another set of rings, Striker’s call was answered by a receptionist and, after again explaining who he was and why he was calling, he was transferred to the main line.

As Striker waited for the inspector, Felicia got the call from one of the cops she knew in Burnaby South. The privatized file from Gabriel’s childhood was ready. She gave Striker the thumbs up, then left to pick it up from the Burnaby North detachment.

Striker waved goodbye and waited on hold.

After a long pause, the phone was picked up. ‘Good evening, Detective Striker, this is Inspector Lundtiz.’

Striker was surprised to hear that the inspector spoke with good English and had almost no accent. ‘Good evening, Inspector. Thanks for taking my call. I’m enquiring about—’

‘Lexa Kaleena Novak,’ Lundtiz replied. ‘Yes, I know her quite well. Intimately well, I would say. I spent many months following this woman before she disappeared on me. That was many years ago. Almost twenty, I would think. My God . . .’

‘Well, she’s been found in Vancouver, Canada,’ Striker said.

‘Has she killed again?’

The words shocked Striker. ‘Has she killed there?’

‘Undoubtedly. Proving that, however, was another matter.’

Striker said nothing for a moment, then took out his notebook and a pen. ‘What exactly do you know about this woman?’

‘A great deal.’

‘I’ve got the time.’

The inspector cleared his throat and began speaking. ‘I have the file right in front of me, though I went over it so many times, I practically know it all by memory. Lexa Novak was born in the city of Prague. I’m sure you’ve heard of it, Charles Bridge and all.’

‘I’m aware of it.’

‘She grew up one of three sisters. Katerna was eldest, followed by Nava, and then Lexa. The family was upper class. Very well known. Her father, Dagan, was a well-respected man in these parts – a doctor with his hand in politics.’

‘Sounds powerful,’ Striker noted.

‘He was. I remember him. And with Lena for a wife, every man around the town envied him. Lena was beautiful, Lena was the perfect wife and mother, and Lena brought with her a family fortune.’

‘Elite upper class,’ Striker said.

‘Entirely. And from an outsider’s perspective, they were living the dream. But home life was very different. Dagan Novak was a sadist. He took great pleasure in dominating his family, abusing them in all ways – psychologically, physically, even sexually, once the girls reached a certain age. Life in the Novak family was an existence of helplessness and torture. I am ashamed to say the police of this time failed the family utterly.’

‘They knew?’

‘It was reported. But because of Dagan’s social and political connections, the matter was – how do you say it? – conveniently overlooked.’

Striker frowned. It was a situation he had seen before as well. ‘What happened to the rest of the family?’

‘Lena, the mother, supposedly left the family and relocated to Paris, where she had other family connections. Yet when I tried to locate her, the search quickly reached a dead end. I have no doubt that Dagan murdered her.’

‘And the other girls?’

‘The story is quite sad, I’m afraid. Even beyond the abuse.’

Striker shook his head. ‘I don’t follow.’

‘The eldest of the sisters, Katerna, had to be hospitalized when she was but sixteen years of age. For severe schizophrenia. Three years after that, Nava was also afflicted with the illness.’

‘A genetic link.’ Striker thought this over. Given the history, it was unsurprising that Lexa had turned to a career of psychiatry. ‘Lexa must have lived in constant fear of acquiring this illness.’

‘The illness haunted her, tortured her . . . And I think it was the turning point of her freedom. The so-called fuse that set her off. It was not long after the middle child was hospitalized that her father took ill. His symptoms came on slowly, gradually, his skin paling, his body weight diminishing, and then his hair began falling out.’

‘Arsenic?’

‘In his tea, we believe.’

‘And yet you never charged her?’

‘We couldn’t. The family had a cook. They had a maid. Even a live-in nurse for when the children came home for visits, which of course became exceedingly rare as the illness progressed. In short, Lexa was surrounded by other suspects. There was no way to link her to the poisoning. And to be honest, at the time, I wasn’t entirely sure she was involved. I had placed more of my focus on the nurse, still feeling Lexa to be a victim of her father’s evil-doings.’

To hear that Dagan Novak got his own justice didn’t particularly bother Striker. ‘So she got away with one.’

‘Yes, she did. Then, when Lexa was nineteen, she met a man named Victor Devorak. He was a young man, a good-looking man, from an estimable background. Within one year of being married to Lexa, he also developed a strange unknown illness and eventually passed away. Lexa moved on, and within two more years she had met and married another young man, also from a rich family. His name was Kavill Svaboda. He lasted longer than her previous husband – almost three full years. But then, four months after Lexa obtained her medical degree, he passed away from unknown causes.’

Striker said nothing as he thought things through. Most everyone around this woman had died, and her two sisters had ended up sick in mental hospitals. The diagnosis was schizophrenia, but he now wondered if Lexa had also played a role in that. He didn’t know enough about the illness to speculate.

‘So two husbands in just over, say, six years. And they died in a similar manner to her father. Did you bring her in for questioning?’ Striker asked.

‘Of course I did. After the death of both husbands. The woman was a star. Charming and open. Confident. Secure.’

‘Like most psychopaths. Were there any more deaths after that?’

The inspector let out a tired sound. ‘I wouldn’t know. She disappeared. Just upped and left the country. And no matter how I tried to track her down, I could never find her. One of my contacts had traced her as far as Brussels, but it was an unconfirmed sighting. And after that, the trail went cold. Plus the woman in Brussels had been many months pregnant.’

‘Lexa does have children.’

The inspector made a sad sound. ‘That is a truly horrible thing.’

‘How long ago was that sighting?’

‘I’m not sure any more.’ Twenty years? The inspector made an uncomfortable sound. ‘It’s odd . . . when my receptionist told me she had the police from Canada on the phone, Lexa was the first person I thought of.’

‘Any advice you can give with this woman?’

‘Only this, Detective. Catch her. Never let her escape. For there is one thing I learned above all else with Lexa Novak. She will never stop killing. She simply enjoys it too much.’