Maurice Fortay. The forty two year old, loving father of seven earns his living as a dentist. Plainest job in the world; good, honest work. A devoted husband; never late for dinner, always takes the garbage out on time, satisfactory in bed, loves his wife Kendra with his entire heart and soul. I guess you can call him a family man. An innocent tax paying citizen of theUnited States of America. He had the perfect upbringing, too. I suppose he gained his top notch parenting skills from his lawyer mother and chef father. No abuse, no trauma, just the perfect little family in suburbia living the American dream. Did I mention he gardens as a hobby? Might have let that part out. If I did, then I probably forgot to add his second and favourite hobby as well; murder. Maurice Fortay took the lives of over seventy women and children, all resembling his own family. Makes you wonder just what exactly he thought of his life, huh?
Angus Raymond. The man earns a living scraping gum off the undersides of park tables. Not exactly flattering work, but hey, someone has to do it, right? Sure, he thought that too, and he didn’t mind. He had friends that loved him and a place to call home; what more could a guy need? Kindest man ever, would never hurt a fly. Kept to himself mostly, but ask any neighbour and they’ll tell you he’s a sweetheart. Always willing to help. His only problem was his wife. She wanted kids he couldn’t give her, and it broke his heart seeing the woman he loved in pain. So, he thought he’d surprise her with a couple of adoption forms. But wait, adoption? Nah, too long. There had to be a simpler way... What about that woman over there? She’s got two kids already, has her hands full. So he was really doing her a favour by taking little Junior off her hands. The kid was one, didn’t understand his life was now tangled in fate’s string. Three days later, Raymond’s beloved wife is found bludgeoned to death on their kitchen floor, his skin and blood under her nails. Angus was arrested in connection with her murder, but poor Junior was never found. No body, no evidence, no traces. A cold trail.
But not all murderers are male, might I add. Take Elizabeth O’Malley, for example. She had everything. The money, the looks, fancy house, fancy cars, but no man to call hers. Upsetting, isn’t it? Being thirty four years old and the only one out of her friends without a family. Drowned her sorrows most nights, others would be spent trying to hook up with a man – any man – so she could finally prove to herself she was entitled to the same privileges as her stuck up friends. But what happens to her already fractured psych when relationships end badly? I’ll tell you what, it breaks further until, hello, a killer is born. Men she targeted, seducing and luring them into her oversized home, sleeping with them and finally, stabbing them in select parts of the body.
These three people were what I like to call masked. They are the ones whose thoughts could mean life or death. These are the ones who we should watch for. The perfect lives, the perfect families, the perfect people. Can you really judge these things by outward appearances?