North to Alaska - Colombo vs Cooper

Usually, when I meet new people up here, it because I have taken a trail through the Arctic woods leading back to or going from my cabin.  The trails coming and going are so numerous that, by using the animal skin map provided me by Uncle Frank, I now don’t take the same trail twice.  The trails always seem to get me where I want to go and for some reason, never take any longer than if I had taken another trail to get where I want to go.  Strange, but there are many strange things up in the land of the midnight sun.  You end up thinking it strange when nothing strange happens.….For instance.

It was Sunday.  I was enjoying a hot cup of tea while surfing the internet when a knock came to the door.  I assumed it was Big Bear, because he was the only visitor Bev and I ever had.  When I opened the door I discovered it wasn’t Big Bear but a man dressed in garbs which immediately reminded me of a trapper, hunter, or prospector.

The Arctic trails have their own stern codes, one of which is never deny anyone entry to your home, especially during the winter.  I invited him in.  He shook off his snow, slid out of his mukluks, slipped out of his parka and hung it on the wall.  He accepted a hot cup of tea greedily. 

He said he had gotten very cold on the trail and was glad to see our cabin.  “It looked from a distance like a very warm and hospitable place to thaw out for awhile.” .

We both nodded in agreement and just sat there for awhile.  While we were sitting there Bev came back in from chopping wood for the fire.  She introduced herself and like the gracious hostess she started cooking up some biscuits.  .

The gentleman introduced him self as Mr. Colombo a retired police lieutenant from the Los Angeles Police Department.  “Colombo, like in…” I started to say but was cut off with a wave of his hand.  “Yes,” he quickly replied, “but no relation.  I was the butt of many jokes back when I was on the job.”

He said after he retired he started his own private investigative agency and had recently been hired to track down a missing person.  He asked us if he could ask Bev and I a few questions.

My defenses immediately set in thinking he was going to ask about Jim Huff, but that ended up not being the case.  He was looking for a man but because of investigator client privilege he could not reveal the name. 

I told him I did not know then how we could be any help. 

He informed me that he would be the judge if any information I gave him was helpful and apologized if he seemed rude.  I told him to ask away.

He then proceeded to ask his question:

“How long have you and your wife lived here?   Have you noticed anyone acting strangely?  Have any of your neighbors bought any high priced items, like a new snowmobile, four wheeler, boat, motor, air plane or things like that?  Do I parachute or  have I seen anyone parachuting?  Have I come across large amounts of cash while traveling the trails?  Have either of you been to Seattle, Portland or places in-between? 

My answers were:  Three months.  Are you kidding?  Not to my knowledge.  No, but my Dad was in the 82^nd Airborne and no I have not see anyone parachuting.  No but it would me nice.  We changed planes in Seattle once.

With my last response he closed his note pad.  Thanked me for the tea, gave me his business card, and said he hoped he had not intruded as he put back on his cold weather gear. 

As he was exiting the cabin he turned and said, “Oh, one more thing” touching his forehead with his first two fingers,. “Have you ever heard of D. B. Cooper?”

I looked at him with a blank stair and replied, “You mean the guy who..”  but before I could finish my sentence Bev piped up and said “No.”  He looked at us both for awhile, said thank you and left.

After he was gone I turned to Bev and said, “Honey, you haven’t heard of D. B. Cooper?  She put her index finger to her lips and said very softly, “Omerta.”