MASK MORTEM

In this debut thriller, an antique and apparently supernatural mask may lead a Texas physician to a murderer.

Dr. Jayant “Jick” Arnsson is a successful anesthesiologist living in one of the richest suburbs of Dallas. But that doesn’t mean he’s happy; the divorced Anglo-Indian doctor is nearing retirement with, he feels, no real sense of accomplishment. That may change after Jick stumbles onto a millennia-old, wooden, dome-shaped mask at an antiques store. This Mask Mortem—the reputed “Healer of Life,” contrary to the literal translation, “mask of death”—makes a nice souvenir to brighten up Jick’s office at a local hospital. As time passes, the surprisingly animated mask oscillates between a “lifeless” face and an inexplicable vibrancy. One day, when it’s particularly vibrant, Jick tries it on only to experience a disorienting vision. He’s convinced he saw the last few minutes of life of a patient who recently died on the table. Later, he tries the mask again and, through the eyes of a shooting victim, sees her killer. When his supernatural-enhanced visions link this murderer to the deaths of homeless men, Jick fears more homicides will follow. But who will believe his claim? Maybe someone he trusts unconditionally—his little brother, Vic. Keen investigative reporter Vic puts in the footwork needed to track down a murderer seemingly targeting the homeless. Unfortunately, the culprit is just as clever, and when Jick realizes the killer is wise to his brother’s probing, he rushes to save Vic— and learns the full extent of the Healer of Life’s powers.

Rajagopal’s novel begins with measured character development. The story, for example, tends to highlight Jick’s “routine” workdays. Readers unfamiliar with his field, however, may find the vivid details of his job fascinating: “Jick cleaned the area and placed a sterile drape over it. It took less than a minute to numb [the patient’s] skin and place the thin spinal needle in the right place. Jick removed the stylet, the small inner wire in the needle, and noted the crystal clear spinal fluid.” The author gradually introduces an enthralling cast of Dallasites whose connections to Jick (or the mask) aren’t immediately evident; there’s hedge fund manager Peter Northrup, on the verge of a midlife crisis, as well as dispirited housewife Tiffany Jensen, who has an abusive husband. Meanwhile, the appealing, sympathetic protagonist lives under “the Black Cloud” of his anxiety, for which he takes meds, and yearns for a lasting romance. The novel’s latter half picks up considerably once the killer, whom readers know right away, seeks out victims. The culprit’s methodical approach to homicide is unnerving and elevates the suspense as Jick and Vic each inch closer to the murderer. While the mask’s supernatural capacity provides a significant narrative turn, Rajagopal incorporates it subtly; Jick treats these short, “fuzzy” visions as evidence that might help solve a mystery. Still, the ending is a doozy, veering in a direction most readers won’t anticipate. The author aptly wraps up the murders, the vision-inducing mask, and even a certain character’s personal dilemma with astounding satisfaction.

A quiet, character-driven murder mystery with an understated paranormal bent.