"Hi, my name's Syd, I'd like to ask you a few questions," Sydney sat down
at the table across from the girl. The girl's eyes looked up and then
darted from Sydney to Vaughn. "Oh, this is, uh..."
"Mike. I'm Mike. We just want to ask you some questions."
Forty-five minutes later, and no more questions answered, Sydney was becoming restless. It wasn't that she had been woken up at 3:30 in the morning that really irritated her. The thing that really did it was that this impertinent girl had the audacity to keep silent.
"Look," she said, finally running out of patience. "You have to answer some questions. We want to help you here, but you've got to help us first. All we want to do is find out who murdered your parents, but if you don't want to, fine. Be that way! All we want to do is help! Come on, Mike, let's go." She motioned for Vaughn to follow her to the door. At first he didn't understand, but it didn't take long for him to see that Sydney was attempting a new ploy to get the girl to talk. It worked.
"I like your style, Sydney," the girl said with a crisp British accent. "It's about time that somebody had a backbone. Well, come one. Let's get this over with."
And fast, thought Sydney.
Looking at the mirror that was the other side of the Plexiglas window, the girl called out, "Go ahead, get your pens ready. I mean, I do assume you have some cohorts behind that." Vaughn nodded. "Alright then, here I go. As you have probably already figured out, my name is Lindsley Hayworth. I'm sixteen. My parents are... were John and Macy Hayworth. They were spies. They were killed, murdered really. And you want to know what I know about their deaths? That's easy- I don't know a thing." She sat back and crossed her arms. "I went up to bed around ten last night- well it would have been two nights ago now, I suppose- and I assume they went shortly after. I read for a little while, and then went to bed. The next thing I know, I'm being roused out of bed by what you might call goons and dragged out to a black van. On my way out, I didn't see much except that the house had been ransacked and that there were two white sheets where my parents should have been. The only reason they didn't get me was because they didn't know I was home. That's all I know." With a tired air, she sat back again.
"Why didn't they know you home?"
"Because I came home early from school."
"Why did you come home?" asked Sydney.
"Because I wanted to."
"Lindsley, why would you say your parents were spies?" asked Vaughn.
"Look- Mike was it?- My parents were spies for almost twenty years with some agency, though I'm not sure which one, but that doesn't mean they were good at it. Speaking of that, I'm not even sure whom it is I'm talking to right now," she leaned forward. "By your accents, you must be American. Which means FBI, NSA, or CIA.... or even some agency I've never heard of. But I'll put my money on one of the last two." She smirked.
"Why would you say that?" asked Sydney.
"Well, Sydney, if that's your name, as I said, my parents were spies. The CIA would be the one to handle that department." Sydney glanced at Vaughn.
"Why do you think someone would have ransacked the house?"
"They were looking for something. But for what, I don't know. However, I do know where to find it. Or at least where to find out what it is they're looking for."
"Ok, go ahead and tell us," said Vaughn. Sydney could tell that the interview was coming to a close.
"Well, you see, that's the problem. If you aren't CIA, you might be the very people who killed my parents. If that's the case, then I'm only worth anything if I have information. If you knew everything, then I might end up just like them. So, I'll cut a deal with you." For the first time, Sydney could detect just a trace of fear in her face. "I will tell you what you need to know only when you need to know it. I will be actively involved in the search. But I'll only work with you two."
Vaughn contemplated this proposition. With a knowing look on his face, he replied, "I think that's a deal we can make."
At once, relief washed over every feature of Lindsley's face.
"Mike, Sydney, it's been nice doing business with you."
Five hours later, all three were on flights headed to London. Sydney and Lindsley posed as sisters coming home from a holiday with their grandmother while Vaughn played the part of a businessman.
They reconnected at Heathrow Airport where Vaughn got them a car and drove the hour and a half to the hotel where they were staying. It was forty minutes outside of Lindsley's hometown.
The hotel was nice, modest, nothing extravagant. Their rooms were on the second floor, connected by a door at the back.
As soon as they entered, Lindsley dropped her bags and collapsed on the bed.
"I am so tired," she yawned. "I don't think I've had more than an hour of sleep in the last two days."
"Well, you can't sleep yet," said Vaughn as he came through the door that adjoined the two rooms. "We have a mission to accomplish. We'll go to your house in two hours, but first we need to make a plan."
"Alright," Lindsley said, propping herself up onto her elbow. "Like I said, I don't know what it was that they were looking for, but I do know where it is, or at least where we can find out what it is." She paused. "My father has a secret study beneath the house."
"If it's so secret, how do you know about it?" asked Vaughn.
Lindsley smirked. "That's a funny story, really. I was playing ball with some of the neighbors when I was eight. One of the boys hit it back into the woods behind my home. I went to retrieve it when... well, actually I just tripped over the entrance."
"Tripped?" Vaughn wasn't sure whether or not to believe this.
"Yes, tripped. We'll just have to get into the study."
"So we'll go through the woods to get to it," said Sydney.
"We could do that, yes, but there's also an entrance from the house."
"No, no... We can't go through the house," said Vaughn, waving his hand. "You have neighbors, they'll see. Besides, for all we know, whoever killed your parents might still be there. We'll go through the woods."
"Once we're inside the study, we'll just need to look for a clue."
"What kind of clue?" asked Sydney.
Lindsley sat up on the bed. "My father wrote everything down. For an intelligence agent, he had a horrible memory."
"Ok then. We drive to your house, through the woods of course, get into the study, and get what we need." Vaughn glanced back at the two women who shook their heads in agreement. "Looks like we've got a plan."
"Mike. I'm Mike. We just want to ask you some questions."
Forty-five minutes later, and no more questions answered, Sydney was becoming restless. It wasn't that she had been woken up at 3:30 in the morning that really irritated her. The thing that really did it was that this impertinent girl had the audacity to keep silent.
"Look," she said, finally running out of patience. "You have to answer some questions. We want to help you here, but you've got to help us first. All we want to do is find out who murdered your parents, but if you don't want to, fine. Be that way! All we want to do is help! Come on, Mike, let's go." She motioned for Vaughn to follow her to the door. At first he didn't understand, but it didn't take long for him to see that Sydney was attempting a new ploy to get the girl to talk. It worked.
"I like your style, Sydney," the girl said with a crisp British accent. "It's about time that somebody had a backbone. Well, come one. Let's get this over with."
And fast, thought Sydney.
Looking at the mirror that was the other side of the Plexiglas window, the girl called out, "Go ahead, get your pens ready. I mean, I do assume you have some cohorts behind that." Vaughn nodded. "Alright then, here I go. As you have probably already figured out, my name is Lindsley Hayworth. I'm sixteen. My parents are... were John and Macy Hayworth. They were spies. They were killed, murdered really. And you want to know what I know about their deaths? That's easy- I don't know a thing." She sat back and crossed her arms. "I went up to bed around ten last night- well it would have been two nights ago now, I suppose- and I assume they went shortly after. I read for a little while, and then went to bed. The next thing I know, I'm being roused out of bed by what you might call goons and dragged out to a black van. On my way out, I didn't see much except that the house had been ransacked and that there were two white sheets where my parents should have been. The only reason they didn't get me was because they didn't know I was home. That's all I know." With a tired air, she sat back again.
"Why didn't they know you home?"
"Because I came home early from school."
"Why did you come home?" asked Sydney.
"Because I wanted to."
"Lindsley, why would you say your parents were spies?" asked Vaughn.
"Look- Mike was it?- My parents were spies for almost twenty years with some agency, though I'm not sure which one, but that doesn't mean they were good at it. Speaking of that, I'm not even sure whom it is I'm talking to right now," she leaned forward. "By your accents, you must be American. Which means FBI, NSA, or CIA.... or even some agency I've never heard of. But I'll put my money on one of the last two." She smirked.
"Why would you say that?" asked Sydney.
"Well, Sydney, if that's your name, as I said, my parents were spies. The CIA would be the one to handle that department." Sydney glanced at Vaughn.
"Why do you think someone would have ransacked the house?"
"They were looking for something. But for what, I don't know. However, I do know where to find it. Or at least where to find out what it is they're looking for."
"Ok, go ahead and tell us," said Vaughn. Sydney could tell that the interview was coming to a close.
"Well, you see, that's the problem. If you aren't CIA, you might be the very people who killed my parents. If that's the case, then I'm only worth anything if I have information. If you knew everything, then I might end up just like them. So, I'll cut a deal with you." For the first time, Sydney could detect just a trace of fear in her face. "I will tell you what you need to know only when you need to know it. I will be actively involved in the search. But I'll only work with you two."
Vaughn contemplated this proposition. With a knowing look on his face, he replied, "I think that's a deal we can make."
At once, relief washed over every feature of Lindsley's face.
"Mike, Sydney, it's been nice doing business with you."
Five hours later, all three were on flights headed to London. Sydney and Lindsley posed as sisters coming home from a holiday with their grandmother while Vaughn played the part of a businessman.
They reconnected at Heathrow Airport where Vaughn got them a car and drove the hour and a half to the hotel where they were staying. It was forty minutes outside of Lindsley's hometown.
The hotel was nice, modest, nothing extravagant. Their rooms were on the second floor, connected by a door at the back.
As soon as they entered, Lindsley dropped her bags and collapsed on the bed.
"I am so tired," she yawned. "I don't think I've had more than an hour of sleep in the last two days."
"Well, you can't sleep yet," said Vaughn as he came through the door that adjoined the two rooms. "We have a mission to accomplish. We'll go to your house in two hours, but first we need to make a plan."
"Alright," Lindsley said, propping herself up onto her elbow. "Like I said, I don't know what it was that they were looking for, but I do know where it is, or at least where we can find out what it is." She paused. "My father has a secret study beneath the house."
"If it's so secret, how do you know about it?" asked Vaughn.
Lindsley smirked. "That's a funny story, really. I was playing ball with some of the neighbors when I was eight. One of the boys hit it back into the woods behind my home. I went to retrieve it when... well, actually I just tripped over the entrance."
"Tripped?" Vaughn wasn't sure whether or not to believe this.
"Yes, tripped. We'll just have to get into the study."
"So we'll go through the woods to get to it," said Sydney.
"We could do that, yes, but there's also an entrance from the house."
"No, no... We can't go through the house," said Vaughn, waving his hand. "You have neighbors, they'll see. Besides, for all we know, whoever killed your parents might still be there. We'll go through the woods."
"Once we're inside the study, we'll just need to look for a clue."
"What kind of clue?" asked Sydney.
Lindsley sat up on the bed. "My father wrote everything down. For an intelligence agent, he had a horrible memory."
"Ok then. We drive to your house, through the woods of course, get into the study, and get what we need." Vaughn glanced back at the two women who shook their heads in agreement. "Looks like we've got a plan."
