A few nights ago Gran called (an unusual event itself) and asked me to investigate the background of the man she’d just dumped, Douglas Squirrel. That wasn’t the textbook sequence of events (dump, then investigate!) so I figured she’d regretted her course of action and really wanted a reason to take him back.
An online search brought up nothing more than his bird feeder theft conviction for which he’d served four years in prison, and then spent three more on probation. He served his time without incident, and since stealing from bird feeders isn’t a stigma in squirrel society he was able to go on to a successful banking career.
That would’ve been the end of it, but Gran also sent me via overnight mail a sample of the fur he’d shed on her. (Way to go, Gran!) I did an analysis, and didn’t discover any anomalies. Then I started comparing his DNA to outstanding criminal cases just to reassure her, and that’s when the match came up: D.B. Cooper.
It was before my time, but I read about the case; the only successful hijacking ever of an American airliner. He’d taken over the plane, forced it to land, released the passengers in exchange for $200,000, took off with the crew and bailed out over the Pacific northwest. He was never seen again.
Recently the FBI released a sample of the hijacker’s DNA obtained from the necktie he’d left behind. That’s where I found the match, and Fenton and I drove back to Domain to confront Mr. Squirrel. (Fenton was there to fly me to safety in case our quarry resorted to violence.)
It was a peaceful meeting, though, and Mr. Squirrel actually seemed relieved. I called Gran from his house, and told her the news. She was taken aback, but I talked her into giving him a second chance since he did indirectly serve time for the incident. She relented, and they went out to eat. Fenton and I won’t divulge the news, except to this blog which I know that nobody can access.
So that leaves one final mystery: where did the money go?
