New Novel -The Equalizer

The Equalizer, the name the murderer was fond of, watched the gentleman as he finished spraying his boat. His yacht, really. It was at least 70 or 80 feet long, and completely pristine looking. Big, white, obnoxious. A neighborhood could live on that boat: a village of hundreds could eat for a year on how much it took to fill up that boat’s huge fuel tanks just once. It turned the Equalizer’s guts to see so much excess, so much waste, for the enjoyment of so few. And not even a deserving few. A corrupt Wall Streeter and his spoiled family – haughty anorexic wife, Botoxed to death, worse than that Victoria Beckham. Snotty, entitled adult kids. Oh, the Equalizer knew what those kids were like. As a scholarship student at the Lawrenceville School in New Jersey, the Equalizer had had to deal with those bullies for four years. The rules never applied to any of those kids, or the family on The Neptune, as their boat was dubbed. Even the name was ridiculous. The owner, the ironically named Nate Humble, was anything but, and probably had visions of himself as the God of the Sea. Maybe he would like to go back to the sea, the Equalizer thought, and quietly laughed. It was almost time. Mr. Humble was about to meet his karma, his fate, his destiny, whatever it might be. The Equalizer breathed deeply as Nate headed down into the parking lot. It was almost time.

Sarah Marren, Detective First Grade, finished her run in front of the precinct house, located at 5th Avenue and 75th Street, Manhattan. At 33 years old, she was the youngest First Grade detective in NYC, and she was the only female assigned to the prestigious Major Crimes division. She received her promotions from top notch police detecting, which had been recognized by her superiors, after solving two tough cases, both dealing with the murders of young teens. The city had exploded with fear after the first death in which a young girl had been stolen on her way to the Brearley School, where she was in 10th grade. Her battered body had been found over on the West Side, near the river, two days later. Detective Marren had been the one to figure out who had the means and motive to kill the young lady – it had been a depraved uncle, who had been abusing her for years. The second case involved a young boy who had been killed coming home from basketball practice at Horace Mann. He never returned home, and was found two weeks later, also beaten and abused. Sarah followed some leads and her gut and arrested the murderer, a pedophile basketball coach. She had been on the news, in newspapers, and her face beamed across the country as the Blonde Bombshell Detective. Sarah was incredibly annoyed by all of the publicity, but it made her superiors in the department happy, which led to both of her promotions. So she could live with that.


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