Chapter 42

You remember last time. They had just made a purchase of six sextants ... really good sextants, with mahogany cases and the New American. It was Andrea, the Twins and David ... remember?

David pulled away from the curb and decided the best way to find the dock area was to keep going to the river.

The French were partial to wheel spoke streets. Detroit was laid out by the French so there were three main spokes in the wheel centered on the Fur Trading Post on the river.

Coming in from the mostly north east was Gratiot, pronounced grahshit ... light on A and T, Woodward was mostly west but not really and Grand River was the other spoke. The Grand River is a Michigan river that doesn't go near Detroit. Grand River, the street, was mostly west but southish.

When the French laid it out, Detroit was kind of little so downtown had more spokes. When the British took over they followed British practice ... the roads they laid out followed the river and the cross streets were perpendiculars to the river.

That meant that there were a lot of pie shaped buildings near the French streets. Pie shaped buildings near main thoroughfares meant a lot of traffic lights because pie shaped buildings take advantage of every square foot of space and were harder to see around than your mother-in-law's ass.

David was driving ... it's a rental so he was only speeding a little bit ... the lights were set so a car going a little over the limit can mostly avoid having to stop on the red. They were sailing along with the 2-40 air-conditioning cooling everybody when they heard sirens.

The Econoline was a panel van ... no side windows in the back. The twins were riding in front ... one in the bucket and one on the engine hump ... no seat belts ... naturally. Andie was in the back jumpseat with her nose in the New American.

"Sirens, I don't see anything coming ... guys? keep a look out," said David, swiveling his head to watch the speedo, mirrors, stop lights, left ... right ... ahead. Everything was good to go. Woodward was coming up and he was planning to turn left and head down Woodward to the river.

The light at Woodward was red ... David adjusted his speed so he could stop but also to take advantage of the break in oncoming traffic. The light turned green half a block ahead. Plenty of time. No one else turned and the oncoming gap was right on time.

When the police stuck Andrea with the bill at the deli and left to follow the two police cars that were speeding by ... they didn't know it ... yet ... but they were responding to a "Gunshots fired, Officer Down." They got that information when they checked in by radio.

Of all the improbable possibilities, the gunshots were in an area inhabited by little old widows and widowers ... exclusively. Two oldsters were forted up behind garden compost piles and blazing away at each other with .22 single shot rifles... 22 short ... not long or long rifle... 22 short. Rocks would do more damage.

It gets better ... they were sisters. To make matters even worse, they were sparking the same widower. He lived across the back fence.

Ah ... the crowning glory of this part of the adventure ... the officer down was their nephew ... a long time officer and a Sergeant. He should have known better. He did know better but these two were his loving aunties. What could possibly go wrong?

It was the widower who called in when they started shooting.

The Sergeant heard the sirens answering the "gunshots fired" call. That made him hurry. The duty cops were always looking for a clean arrest ... this looked like a good chance for a commendation. He ran down the drive to the backyard and didn't even identify himself.

"Quit that..." he yelled, scaring them half to death. Knee jerk reaction ... they both plugged him.

The widower phoned that in too.

Retired nurses ... but long lapsed and not acquainted with modern procedures, they were mothering him nearly to death when the rest of the force showed.