Murray, out of frustration, had finally banned all cameras, except for ESPN. They had agreed to broadcast it live and share footage with other outlets. When Lonnie Britt walked to the podium he knew he was facing a wide audience.
He began with “Sooley. Sooley. By the time you said his name, and saw that smile, you knew that you loved him.” With the composure, cadence, and preparation of a seasoned preacher, he talked about the kid from South Sudan. No one fought to hold back tears, including his coach.
After another hymn, Murray stepped forward to struggle through a eulogy he still could not believe he was being called upon to give. He choked up, battled on, got a few laughs, and finally quit when he was overcome. He returned to his seat beside Ida, who patted his knee and whispered, “Nice job. I love you.”
On big screens, they ran a collage of Sooley bantering with reporters, of him soaring through the air with unforgettable dunks, of him bombing away from mid-court. He never missed, and the crowd managed to cheer and cry at the same time.
CHAPTER 59
Two days after the burial, and with the Walkers still sleepwalking through the aftermath, Murray finally forced himself down to the basement to go through Sooley’s things. His laptop and cell phone were on the ping-pong table, untouched. Murray didn’t have the heart to try and access them, and he didn’t know the passcodes anyway. He didn’t want to know what secrets, if any, they held. He did know that Sooley had been spending more time on social media. After the first-round upset of Duke, back on March 17, Sooley’s fame spread like crazy and he was the talk of the sports world. His Facebook followers went from 20,000 to 400,000 in a matter of days. He posted more photos, chatted with his fans, and shared insights into the tournament. As Central advanced and became the epicenter of March Madness, his numbers skyrocketed. By the time the team traveled to Phoenix for the Final Four, and Sooleymania was raging, over five million fans liked his page. They followed the draft closely and he played to his audience. His shocking death left everyone clamoring for more and the number doubled.
Murray looked at his page almost daily, but the brokenhearted messages from his fans were often too much to read. Emotions were simply too raw. He would swear off, leave the page, but return the next day for a quick look.
He went through Sooley’s backpack and rifled through a pile of notebooks and sports magazines. In a daily planner that had been rarely used, Murray found some notes that were intriguing. Stapled to one page was a business card for a company called Aegis Partners and an “Advisor” named Gary Gaston. He opened his own laptop and a quick search revealed little about the outfit. It was based in Bethesda and advertised itself as a player in the vague field of “international security.” On the back of the business card, Gaston had evidently scribbled his cell phone number. Murray called it and a voice curtly announced, “Gaston.”
Murray explained who he was and what he was doing and was surprised when Gaston said, “Oh, I knew Sooley pretty well. Even met him once, just a few days ago when you guys were in D.C. looking for an apartment.”
Murray was surprised and said, “I didn’t know that.”
“You were taking a nap and I went to your hotel. The Hyatt. Met Sooley in the bar and we hit it off.”
“Mind if I ask why you were talking to Sooley?”
“Well, first, I’m very sorry about what has happened. It’s quite a shock and I’m sure you guys are reeling right now.”
“We are. I was Sooley’s closest friend and I never heard him mention you or your company.”
“We’re very private, that’s our business. We do a lot of work in Africa, complicated stuff I can’t go into, but from time to time we’re hired to extricate people and bring them here.”
“Extricate?”
“That’s it. Sooley was convinced he was about to make some money, I guess he was right about that, and he wanted to hire us to get his family out of the refugee camp in Uganda.”
“And how do you do that?”
“Look, I prefer to avoid the phone as much as possible. Same for email and texts. Everything leaves a trail.”
“Okay. I noticed that your firm’s website doesn’t say much about your firm.”
“We don’t advertise, okay? Sooley found us through a nonprofit that works with refugees.”
“He knew them all, didn’t he?”
“I guess he did.”
“So, you can’t tell me anything?”
“Sure I can, but not over the phone. If you want a cup of coffee, I’m happy to explain things.”