Decency (21 page)

The interior door opened with a squeak into the bright kitchen. It was a place where someone who knows what they are doing worked. No clutter. Spotless counters. Pots and pans hung above the stove.

“I’ll just put on some coffee. Make yourself at home in the dining room. We’ll go up to Samantha’s room in a minute.”

The dining table was a perfect 3 x 5 rectangle, hand made of oak, with four chairs, two on each side. An antique hutch was on one wall. A bookcase, also handmade, was on the other. It housed a library in microcosm. The top shelf had reference books, dictionaries, a thesaurus, almanacs and gazetteers. Next down was the current year’s
National Geographic
, the Bible, and a bookend to allow some additions. Next down was
The Complete Works of Shakespeare,
editions of collected poems by Frost and Sandburg, and Milton’s
Paradise Lost
. The bottom shelf held two stacks of newspaper sections, the
Omaha World Herald, and The Wall Street Journal.

…nothing in the room is decoration…only needful things are here…

Kathy forged on through the room, “Come on upstairs. We’ll get started and I’ll come back for the coffee.”

“I’m impressed with your library.”

Kathy smiled slightly, “You’re easily impressed.”

The living room proved her meaning. It had just enough room for the plain velveteen sofa and chairs, coffee table, large screen TV, and full bookshelves that lined every wall.

Kathy glanced back and, smiled knowingly. “We both always tried to read. Now, it’s a solace.”

At the top she pointed, “Here is Samantha’s room. She pretty much kept it fairly plain. The keepsakes from growing up are in boxes in the closet.”

A single canopied bed with pale floral coverings dominated the room. Four framed pictures hung on the opposite wall. One showed her with a prize winning calf. In another she mugged with her high school buddies in their graduation caps and gowns. The third had her sitting in front of a large computer console. The last was of Samantha and the Secretary of Defense holding an award presented to her.

Kathy opened the closet and turned on the light with a pull-string. A dozen boxes were stacked floor to ceiling.

“You mentioned a diary. It could be anywhere in these things. Generally, they’re stacked chronologically. The bottom boxes are the earliest. There are things like baby stuff, then her old toys and books…high school things… there’s an old portable Toshiba computer from college, I think it was one of the first ones…on top of that is what you’re looking for…her personal things from Maryland. We had an auctioneer back there sell the furniture, clothes, utensils and what not.”

Kathy struggled with her arms extended to steady the descent of the first box.

“Here let me help.”

The second box joined the first on the floor of the bedroom.

“If it’s not in one of these, then we may have to look through everything. I’ll be back with the coffee.”

Kelly carefully removed each item from each box and laid them in order next to the corresponding box to permit returning them in the same order. It proved disappointing. There was no “diary” as such. There were, however, a couple of dozen computer diskettes, any of which could house diary entries.

As Kathy returned with the coffee, she guessed the result.

“Not there, huh?”

“Looks like not. Maybe the computer diskettes. Did she keep a diary as a child?”

“Yes, at times. I’m not sure I know whether she kept one all along. And I don’t know if we still have any of them. We have a lot of searching through boxes to do.”

“Let me take the disks back with me and let’s plow on ahead.”

Box by box the search continued.

In the next to last one a small leatherette bound volume labeled in faded faux gold lettering, “My Journal,” appeared.

With bated breath, Kelly thumbed quickly to page ten, only to be disappointed again. There was only a page of neat penmanship describing Samantha’s reaction to a new teacher in high school. Nothing that resembled a “CODE KEY.”

Kathy took the volume and read it to herself.

“This might mean something.”

She pointed to the last two lines on the page.

“I know her handwriting. These last lines were not written when she was in high school. See, they are just not as precise as the rest of the page.”

They read,

“He’s so difficult to follow. “A equals b and b equals c and so on. That’s it: he’s one off.”

“Kathy, it’s got to be it. Only you would have noticed the difference in the handwriting. Probably, on one of her visits home, she just picked a page where there was space left at the bottom of her entry, and made up a line that fit the context. She’s saying the key to decoding her material is to change each letter to the next one in the alphabet.”

“What material?”

“I don’t know, yet. But I will bet much of it is in her letters to you.”

Kathy Pierce, proud, sturdy woman of the soil, turned her gaze eye to eye. Her lip started to quiver and burning words rushed through her stiffened jaw.

“You get those bastards, Kelly. You
get
them. They took my baby…”

Sorrow buckled her. Kneeling, slump-shouldered, she took no comfort from the arm placed across her back, or the forehead gently pressed to her head, and gasped in heavy, hurting sobs.

Kelly’s car hurtled down the two-lane splitting farms passed just hours ago in the opposite direction.

Tom, each one of these homes probably shelters a family as good and solid as the Pierces…the country’s fiber comes from here. Just as much as the fields grow the grain, these houses nurtured solid sons and daughters. What will happen if these disappear? Corporations can’t do what these people do…

Kelly dialed the number.

“Hello.”

“Bonnie, it’s Kelly. Sorry to catch you at home.”

“It’s fine. How’d it go?”

“Pretty well. I think I saw the book. Can we meet first thing in the morning?”

“At your service. I can be in by about 8:00 if traffic cooperates.”

“That will be great. See you then.” Kelly needed some time with Tom and riffled through her carrying case of CD’s. Aaron Neville’s
Orchid in the Storm
caught her eye. She slid the disk into the player and jumped to the second track. The smooth, trilling voice filled the car with
Pledging My Love
, “…always and forever, I’ll love only you.”

She hit the repeat button to cycle it again.

…one of our favorites. I miss you so much, Tom.

At 7:45, Bonnie was waiting outside the office. Jannie had apparently just arrived and was still putting things in order to start the day while chatting with Bonnie. Kelly caught the last words.

“…it nearly killed her
too
. She was devastated.”

“Thanks, Jannie. I didn’t know at all.”

They both turned with Kelly’s approach.

“Good morning. Bonnie, thanks for coming in early.”

“Sure thing. I could hardly sleep wondering what you found.”

“Let’s get some coffee and settle in. We’ll be here a while.”

“Ms. Hawkins, you unpack and I’ll get the coffee. Jannie just told me about your husband, Tom. I’m so very sorry.”

“Thanks, Bonnie. It was pretty rough…maybe still is.”

While Bonnie was in the firm’s kitchen, Kelly sorted out the materials from the trip and notes on things to do, then made two photocopies of page ten from the diary.

When Bonnie came in with the coffee, Kelly handed her one of the photocopies.

“Look at the last lines. Notice the slight difference of hand writing. Now read them. She’s saying the key is to change each letter of the alphabet to the next ensuing one.”

“I see that. But we don’t know what text has the characters to be changed do we?”

“Not yet. I’d be surprised though if at least a good part of it isn’t in the letters she wrote to her parents. They come from the right time frame and they would be something she could control, something she could use to update information as necessary.”

“Have you looked?”

“No, I left them here. Going through them is the first thing we’ll be doing today.”

“We can tell pretty quickly if there is anything that’s obvious on the face of her letters.”

The answer sprang at them.

“Look, she jotted in the underlining in nearly all of them the same way she did on the last letter. I’ll bet anything that’s the text.”

They started with the earliest and made a translation page of each letter, writing down in order the next ensuing character of the alphabet after each one that was underlined. They would not try to read the resulting messages as they went. They waited for the context that appeared from the whole.

The work was slow. For over four hours they transcribed the next ensuing character of those underlined before they finished.

“Okay, Bonnie, now for the interesting part. Want a break before we go back and turn the character strings into messages?”

“Are you kidding? I can’t possibly wait.”

“Then have at yours and I’ll do mine. Leave out capitalization and punctuation at least for now.”

The earliest letter quickly became achingly clear.

mom dad if youre reading im gone i love you thank you bringing me up and all your sacrifice if other reads first please give to parents don’t know how much will get to you working strange case agency cant crack letters not real time show past events in chron order


“Bonnie, look at this. If there was ever any doubt we’re on the side of the angels, there isn’t now.”

Although this step was quicker, it still took nearly an hour to complete them all. Bonnie read them aloud.

noticed feedback loop echelon computers no record of it in design


removed feedback loop informed security and ig no report back from security or ig


new unplanned selfcopying function found in echelon computers informed security and ig


security questioned me as if responsible for feedback loop and selfcopy not true of course they may believe I am possible mole and disclosed to cover tracks


security watching don’t know why


carl foley dead helped spot feedback and selfcopy verdict suicide doubt it


clearance suspended referred to psych eval


psych james cochran evaled me same as foley


letters now real time wrote code for


ident unplanned software change no access need buddy to insert


have buddy christian mason he inserted ident code picked up change feeds to security may or may not be legit


cochran found me depressed and paranoid bullshit don’t know if hes mule for management or just wrong or why want rid of me unless they think im mole


will meet termination hearing board in two months


mason reports getting close to ident who in security accesses unplanned feed