Home > Books > Sooley(110)

Sooley(110)

Author:John Grisham

“Would the charter company know the real story?”

“No. Our documents are really good, that other story notwithstanding. Their pilots would have copies of the passports and ID cards, but once Sooley’s family was cleared by Uganda customs, then they’d have been home free. Until they arrived here.”

“What would happen here?”

“Well, Murray, that’s where Miss Ida would step in.”

Murray almost laughed. He shook his head in disbelief and asked, “How do you know my mother?”

“Sooley thought of everything. He knew that she could handle U.S. Immigration. When the plane landed in Raleigh, the family would surrender to Immigration, same as hundreds do each day at the borders. They’d be detained and taken into custody. She would immediately seek asylum, get an expedited hearing, and get them released and placed in a nice house pending their trial, which could take months.”

Murray was still shaking his head. “What would happen to the charter company? I mean, surely they would get in trouble.”

“Probably, but we were counting on a small fine. Again, we were hoping Miss Ida could deal with Immigration. Since the amount of the fine is unknown, it was the one figure we weren’t sure of.”

“So how much was the entire operation?”

“Half a mil. As I said, virtually no one can afford it. We’re talking about refugees and their families, folks who have nothing.”

“That’s a lot of money.”

“It is. It takes some cash to grease the skids in Uganda. There are other expenses and my time is valuable. I have to make the trip to guarantee everything works well.”

“Might I ask if your company has pulled off any of these extractions?”

“Two, but I can’t go into details. Let’s just say they involved wealthy Syrian families here who wanted their people out of the camps.”

“So, this is not your primary line of work.”

“Oh no. We deal mainly with hostages and kidnappings. We rescue people and get them out. Unfortunately, kidnapping is big business in the developing world and we have some expertise.”

Murray shoved his salad away and said, “It sounds as if this extricating business requires a fair amount of criminal activity.”

Gaston smiled and took a sip of ice tea. “Depends on how you define it. If you want a laugh, go online and search ‘fake passports.’ You’ll see a hundred sites brazenly advertising the preparation and sale of fake passports. That’s a crime. We buy them all the time, so, yes, in one sense we’re breaking the law. But there’s little harm and almost no enforcement. And, I’m sure that somewhere in Uganda there’s a law on the books that prohibits the bribing of customs officials. Or maybe there’s not. At any rate, it’s a way of life in the Third World. It’s simply how business is done. Sooley understood this and was willing to take his chances. His hands wouldn’t get dirty. He would pay our fee and we would take care of the rest.”

Murray marveled at the extent of Sooley’s planning, and without a word to his roommate. “I can’t believe he didn’t tell me about this.”

“It was happening pretty fast. He made contact with me about two weeks before the draft, when it looked like he would indeed go in the first round. The money was almost within his grasp. He would have told you eventually because he needed Miss Ida.”

“I guess so. He was a smart guy.”

“Very smart, and very determined. We were excited about helping Sooley because, obviously, he had the money. Or at least the prospect of it.”

“That’s what he dreamed about. Getting his mother and brothers over here.”

“I’m sorry we can’t help, Murray. Those poor folks will spend years in that camp, won’t they?”

“Probably so. And Sooley can’t help them.”

“I assume his mother has heard the news.”

“Yes. Some aid workers in the camp told her.”

“That poor woman.”

“She’ll never know how close she came.”

“Mind if I ask what happened in the Bahamas?”

Murray shrugged and said, “He had a bad night. Got some pills from a girl. Sooley wasn’t a user, not even close. He didn’t smoke pot until the season was over, and then he didn’t like it. He’d have a few beers, nothing more. It’s so sad. He was a great guy.”

“He was. I’m very sorry.”

“Thanks. And thanks for your time.”