Fiddle Mike: crime fighter

Long ago, in a far away land, some old boys were going on about taxation without representation and how that was tyranny, and all, and they demonstrated their displeasure with same by dumping a bunch of tea into Boston harbor. Two hundred-thirty-odd years later some tax payers staged similar protests (called, "Tea parties") for similar reasons.
I found it ironic that, in the time between the modern "tea parties" and American Independence Day, I had a date with the tax assessor's office to protest the over-100% increase in the assessed value of place I call home. I was actually standing on my porch the day the tax guy drove by and assessed my place... without even slowing down.
I felt picked on till I spoke with a few folks and discovered that this was pretty much an across the board increase. The city tries to make it difficult to protest so that most folks will just pay the added freight. The hot granny suggested that if every last one of us protested, we could bury the tax office in paper and people (the same tactic is proposed for traffic court in order to ride the brakes on that hustle).
Admit nothing, deny everything, demand proof.
The day before my appointment I got a call from the assessor's office and was asked if I'd agree to last year's assessment rather than a protest hearing.

I was feeling pretty good about that, and then I got word that Jill's sailboat and trailer had been stolen. A friend let us park it behind his place and while he was out of socket, David, the next-door neighbor moved it to his yard.
We hadn't decided exactly what to do since our friend wasn't due home for a few weeks, then I found out a little more about David.
Short version: he's a sleazy leech who used to acquire peoples' homes for the taxes owed, then rent to them (and you thought you could actually "own" property in the US of A).

On the way back from a trip into town I pulled the big yella bike into our friend's yard and asked Jill if she could see the boat. I knew we were being watched.
When David and his girlfriend saw us looking into his yard, they asked if we were interested in the trailer (obviously, they'd put out the word). I said we sure were, the boat, too, especially since they are ours. I kind of played it cool and listened to him go on about how awful his neighbors are (you know, the ones who never stole Jill's boat) while his alibi wandered all over the map. After I suggested that I might have the heat search the neighbor's shed for the missing sail and rigging they became a little more cooperative and told us we could get the boat and trailer whenever we wanted (I bit my tongue).





They said they had obligations in town so we said we'd be back later, or maybe tomorrow, and went on home. At home, I began having second thoughts about waiting so Jill and I, along with our son, went back much earlier than planned. It's just as well, too, since they pulled up shortly thereafter. I believe they planned remove our stuff. The guy even had the gall to ask Jill to pay for the tires and wheels (maybe worth $30) he'd put on the trailer. She told him that when he came up with the missing sail and rigging she'd consider it.
He's lucky that trailer had good tires; if I'd had to pull it out on flats I'd have called the Constable, for certain.