Detective Wolf and the Flatwoods Fighter

Wolf was fuming at the thought of interrupting his painting venture, but he knew that he had to help the man, if something was truly wrong. The moment his head broke the water he knew he made the right choice. The sailor seemed to be in a tussle with someone else. Someone who Wolf could only surmise as being the culprit. He latched a hand onto the boat as the sailor, in the middle of reeling back from a disastrous haymaker, locked eyes with him. It seemed the killer of Mr Kenwood did as well, since the motor roared to life. Wolf felt hot wind whip past his head and neck as the boat picked up speed. Before long, the Sailor was sent launching back from the sudden acceleration. His fatty face frozen in shock as he fell over the back of the boat, and got his fingers shredded from the rear motor. Wolf only had enough time to hear him give a small gasp before he was dwarfed by the roar of the engine and choppy water. With him out of the way, It meant that the culprit would now be more focused on the boat, as they would have to make a hard brake if they wanted to fight Wolf, giving him ample opportunity to shoot him with the speargun. it wasn't moral, but neither was cold blooded murder of a man and attempted murder of his wife. Still, the detective couldn't help but wonder if he should go back to help the sailor. Maybe he could provide a physical description for Wolf to give to other officers. Or...maybe he could try and catch two birds with one stone