Chapter 30: The Northern Trail
I left Mara and Leo under the care of the federal task force in the city, promising them that this would be the final trip. Mara didn't try to stop me; she knew that as long as Helen Rossi was free and wealthy, our lives would always be subject to her whims.
"Bring it to an end, Maya," Mara said, kissing my cheek before I left. "Don't let her keep a single piece of our future."
Montreal was buried under a deep, northern winter, the streets slick with black ice and the air so cold it burned the throat. I rented a nondescript vehicle and spent three days watching the property in the Westmount district—a beautiful stone mansion surrounded by high walls and security cameras.
I observed Helen Rossi through a long-range lens. She looked older, her hair completely white, but she moved with the same authoritative grace she had displayed when she wore the chief’s uniform. She was living a luxury life, funded by the blood and silence of the city she had sworn to protect.
I didn't plan a violent confrontation. I knew that a woman like Rossi would have her own security and that an illegal attack would only land me in a Canadian prison. Instead, I used a different strategy. I contacted the Royal Canadian Mounted Police financial crimes unit, presenting them with the complete federal dossier on Aegis Holdings, the murder conspiracy charges, and the evidence that the funds used to purchase the Westmount mansion were the direct proceeds of international organized crime.
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The Canadian authorities were efficient. They didn't need an extradition treaty to act on money laundering and illegal asset importation. Within forty-eight hours, they obtained a seizure order for the property and all associated accounts.
I stood across the street as the Canadian tactical units moved in, their vehicles blocking the snow-covered driveway. I watched Helen Rossi being led out of her stone mansion in handcuffs, her fur coat offering little protection against the cold reality of her arrest. As she was placed into the transport vehicle, she looked across the street and saw me standing under the streetlamp. I didn't move; I just watched her, a silent witness to her final fall.
