The men are stalked, beaten up and thrown in rivers. The women are stalked, raped, drugged and drowned. All this is the work of a sociopath obsessed with power and control, who is out to punish those who in his eyes have wronged him.
The sunbeams hit the rippling water, lighting it up, as Mathuri Hamelton rowed strongly along the Hudson River. Despite living in Albany, the capital city of New York, Mathuri and her father were quite poor, though her father had managed to get her her own boat when she was 24. It was better he thought for them to have seperate boats because it meant they could both fish at the same time on different parts of the river and subsequently sell twice as much fish. Sometimes Mathuri and her father caught fish, which they sold at market. Other times Mathuri was paid for rowing someone across or down the river to a certain location. She and her father even occasionally assisted the local police by fishing dead bodies up from the river and handing them in like Gaffer and Lizzie Hexam had done in Charles Dickens' Our Mutual Friend.
Mathuri was half Indian and half American in origin though her nationality was undoubtedly American. Her mother Rema had moved from India to New York after meeting and falling in love with her father. This morning, Mathuri was rowing in time to one of her favourite Indian songs which she sang as she rowed. It was a song about a river. She had risen early to row to a suitable part of the river so that she could start fishing. She had her nets and rods ready in the boat. Mathuri was happy to give anyone she met a lift if they paid her but it was early yet and not many people were out, with the obvious exception of her father and herself.
She finally anchored her boat securely, stopped singing and got ready one of the nets to fish as usual. For a while, she happily drew in her net and pulled it out. Sometimes it came up empty. Other times she caught a wide variety of fish. Then tthe light from the brilliant sun rays caught something floating below the surface of the water. Mathuri put down her net and glanced into the water, puzzled. Luckily she always had with her the equipment she used to pull things up. Hesitating, she reached into the water and pulled with all her might. Mathuri gasped and then screamed as a badly beaten and battered male corpse, fully clothed came up from the middle of the river. She backed away from it, not wanting to touch it. Checking the boat was securely moored, she got out and started walking towards the town.
If she met her father along the way of course she would tell him but other than that she had to go and get the police. Mathuri and her father were too poor to afford the modern luxuries that most of the Albany inhabitants possessed like cars and mobile phones.