Chapter 29
“Mr. and Mrs. Jensen, I’m sorry I have to bring up hurtful memories. And, like I said, I didn’t know your son personally. From what I’ve been told, your son was a hardworking, dedicated man who loved his country and wanted to help the South Vietnamese government fight the communists. I’m here today to ask you just a few questions, if you don’t mind?”
Mary looked at Zed, who hadn’t taken his eyes off of the woman. Zed finally said, “Let me first say that we are very proud of our son. He knew the dangers, yet he volunteered for the assignment in Vietnam nonetheless. He believed that what he was doing would help the South Vietnamese Government win the war. I don’t know how we can help, but we’ll be happy to answer any questions you have,” Zed answered firmly and without the slightest hint of trepidation.
“First of all, has anyone from the U.S. Government contacted you since your son’s death?”
“We received a letter from William Colby that informed us of his death. The letter stated that Peter died at the hands of a North Vietnamese spy but didn’t go into specifics. I have the letter if you would like to see it?” Mary answered her.
“No, that won’t be necessary. Do you know of anyone other than yourselves that had correspondence with your son while he was in Vietnam, someone from college or… maybe a girlfriend perhaps?”
Mary looked at Zed, thinking the question was odd, but Zed still held his gaze on the woman.
Sydney saw Mary’s confused look and followed up quickly with, “We’re just following up on any correspondence your son had outside the CIA. This is just a routine procedure and bears no ill will toward your son.”
Mary seemed to be satisfied with her explanation, but Zed’s bearing seemed to change instantly. He quickly recovered and answered her question in a firm but polite tone.
“Let me assure you, Ma’am, that our son was a man of integrity and wouldn’t do anything that would jeopardize the security of our nation or that of the South Vietnamese government. But to answer your question, we don’t know of anyone with whom Peter wrote to other than us. Peter was a very private person. And frankly, I don’t see how any of this is relevant since the war is now over.”
The interview was not going the way Sydney had planned. She sensed that Zed knew more that he was willing to share but thought better of pushing it. Mary just seemed to let Zed do all the talking and sat quietly. Sydney now eyed the man and could tell there was more to him than just a simple farmer. He picked up too quickly on why she was asking her questions, although he was wrong in his assumptions.
“I’m sorry if I have offended you in any way. I am just doing my job. I don’t know the relevance of his correspondence with anyone outside the CIA. I’ll leave that for others to decide. My job is to just interview all the people that your son might have had contact with,” Sydney said in a conciliatory tone.
“I understand that you’re just doing your job, Miss Swanson and I’m sorry for any misunderstanding we might have had,” Zed replied.
Sydney smiled, “Thank you for understanding, Mr. Jensen. I just have two more questions.”
Zed simply nodded and waited.
Sydney directed her question at Zed. However, she was watching Mary for a response. “I’m curious, Mr. Jensen, were you ever in the military or the CIA?”
Zed didn’t take his eyes off Sydney, “CIA, heavens no, but I was in the army.”
“Can I ask you what your rank and duties were?”
Zed laughed and said, “I was just a PFC foot soldier in the Koran War. The winters were just as cold as Minnesota, and the fighting was extremely hard.”
“I see. Do you happen to know anything about encryption?”
Zed didn’t even blink.
“Do you mean like codes and spy stuff?”
“Yes, that’s what I mean.”
“No, Ma’am, I can barely read my own writing, let alone try to cipher anyone else’s scribbling.”
Zed’s aw-shucks, country-bumpkin attitude wasn’t fooling Sydney. As soon as she asked her question, Mary’s features gave her away.
“Well, I want to thank you for your time and the home-cooked meal. Zed was right; you are a wonderful cook, Mary.”
Sydney got up to leave, and she extended her hand to Zed. He accepted it with a smile and said,
"Ah, didn't you have another question, Miss Swanson?"
"No, that's it. Thank you for your cooperation."
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"No problem; I'm just sorry that you had to come all the way down here, and we were able to help you."
"Oh, you've helped me Zed."
Zed smiled back at her, "Well, let me walk you to your car, Ma'am."
Sydney moved over to Mary and thanked her for the supper again. She honestly did think that it was a wonderful meal, but as she was headed out of the kitchen, Mary said, "You know you look a lot like that woman Peter worked with in Vietnam, except her hair was long and auburn. What do you think, Zed?"
Zed was quick to respond, "I don't think so, Mary. She was definitely not as pretty as this young lady!"
Sydney could see the recognition on his face even before he opened his mouth. This could be a problem for her.
"I'd like to see that photo if you don't mind digging it out for me," Sydney asked.
"I'm sorry, ma'am, but I'm afraid we got rid of all those letters after we got the news of Peter's death. We didn't want the memories of that painful war." Zed said while staring at his wife with a stern look.
Mary momentarily looked confused but knew Zed well enough to accompany his charade. Sydney continued to look at Mary's face, and she could tell that Zed was lying.
Sydney knew that Zed had caught her in the lie about not knowing his son and inwardly sighed. All she wanted to do was to confirm her suspicions that Peter’s parents were the intended recipient of his last letter. Some of the wording in Peter’s letter led her to believe this, but she couldn’t say that she was one hundred percent sure. She liked these people; however, sometimes, it was just the simplest of words that could end your life. She didn’t care about Zed, but Mary was so sweet. Now, it would be more difficult to kill them. But she had to do what she had to do. Self-preservation was a powerful motivation.
“I guess we can’t compare that woman to this young lady now, can we,” Mary added.
“No, we can’t. By the way, what agency did you say you were with?” Zed asked.
Sydney shook her head slowly, took a half step backward, and slipped her hand inside her purse. She could feel the cold steel of the short-barreled Smith & Wesson 38 revolver in her hand. She had acquired the gun just in case of this eventuality. It was non-traceable and would quickly find its way to the bottom of some lake or river soon after its use. She found the pistol grip and locked her hand around it.
“I’d like to believe you, but somehow you just haven’t convinced me. I’m sorry it had to come to this; I really am.” Sydney said with a sigh.
Sydney had just started to pull the gun out when the old lab began to bark loudly.
“Come to this?” Mary said, more than a little confused while
Zed was a little more observant and quickly realized their potential danger.
“It looks like we have some more company, Mary. That old dog is the best security system anyone could ever buy,” Zed said in an uneasy voice.
“Yes, you are lucky to have that old dog,” Sydney said with a mocking tone. She released her grip on the pistol and pulled out her credentials instead.
“I’m with the CIA. I’m sure I told you that, Mr. Jensen.” She held up her badge altered her credentials, and showed it to Zed.
Zed didn’t respond. He just nodded his head.
“Well, I guess that’s all I have. Thank you again for your time and the wonderful supper, Mary.”
They all headed for the front door and were greeted by an old Ford pickup truck with two men inside coming up the driveway. The truck parked behind Sydney’s rental, and two large men got out. One was a clone of the other but twenty-five years younger and 40 pounds lighter. The father and son duo were wearing seed caps, bib overalls, and plaid shirts, although they were different colors. They walked over to the group in what Sydney thought to be slow motion.
“Sorry for truden Zed, I didn’t know you had some company dare. But ya see, Nils he got da Case stuck inda ditch and we’s come by to ask if you could puller out with your big John Deere dare. By golly, we tried pretty hard to puller her out wit our Massey, but she’s stuck pretty darn good don’t ya know.” The older man said.
“No problem, Ben, the young lady was just leaving. Cindy, this is Ben Stevenson and his son Nils. They live just down the road a piece.”
Sydney greeted the two men with a smile and said, “I’m pleased to meet you both. Now, I’m afraid I must leave; I have a long way to drive tonight before I get to my hotel in Minneapolis.”
She didn’t extend her hand to the man. Ken’s hand was the size of a catcher’s mitt and was covered in dirt, and Nils seemed to be just as shy around women as Peter had been. Sydney wasn’t surprised that Zed neglected to inform the two country bumpkins that she was with the U.S. Government, but she was sure he would after she left. Everyone wished Cindy a good night, and she got back into her Ford and quietly pulled out of the farmyard, thinking how lucky all four of those people were. What still worried her was the encrypted letter Jensen wrote to someone and that someone had the key to unlock it. If Zed had it, she would have to do something about that.
After Jensen’s death, she had gone through all his things, looking for anything that might incriminate her and found nothing. She found his camera and some film hidden in one of his boots and destroyed it without developing any of the film. Now, she regretted that mistake.
On the drive back to her hotel, Sydney went back over her conversation with the Jensen’s. She was sure Zed suspected her as being the same woman in the photo their son had sent them, but she was also sure that Peter hadn’t passed on any information that could destroy her. She now was pleased that the two farmers had come when they did. It saved her a lot of complications that she didn’t want to deal with. She decided to pay another visit to the Jensen’s, but this time without lethal consequences. If Zed held the key that would unlock the encrypted letter that was now almost assuredly in the hands of Shawn Harris, he wouldn’t have it for long.
*****
Several days later, on a beautiful spring Sunday morning, Zed and Mary were returning home from Sunday services at Hope Lutheran Church in Farmington when Zed noticed a large tower of smoke rising into the air in the direction of their farm.
Zed said casually, "I wonder if Jake is finally burning that pile of brush and trees that he cleared last fall."
"That sure must be one big brush pile. I can see the flames from here." Mary said with concern in her voice.
Zed was the first to make the connection when they reached the quarter-mile mark from their home.
"Oh my God, Mary, I think our farm is on fire."
As he got closer, they saw their entire barn and farmhouse completely engulfed in flames.
The local volunteer fire department was already on the scene, but they were completely overmatched by the size of the inferno. Soon, other fire departments from larger towns arrived; however, it was already too late. In the end, the firefighters only managed to save several outbuildings that were upwind from the blaze. It was a tragedy, and the entire community felt their pain. Many wondered how those good people could cope with all the tragedy in their lives: first their only son, and now this.
