“Teaching?”
“That’s under local control. We give English lessons where we can, on the theory that knowing English is never bad. But we don’t promise it. Too expensive.”
“And how big is WorldCares?”
“About nine hundred employees.”
“Big.”
“It sounds more impressive than it is. That’s mostly local nationals in the countries where we work, Kenya, Haiti, the Philippines, a few other places. In terms of Americans, Westerners, about seventy. Mostly back home in Houston. Usually we have no more than two to five Westerners living in the countries where we operate. They’re too expensive. A foreign employee in Kenya costs one hundred fifty to three hundred thousand dollars a year.”
“Three hundred thousand? For an aid worker?”
“That includes housing allowances, six to eight weeks of vacation. These are tough jobs. People need a break. Insurance, medical and life. It adds up. The locals are a lot cheaper. Plus the United Nations encourages aid groups to hire locally.”
“Build expertise.”
“Correct.” A phone buzzed in Thompson’s pocket. He pulled it out, looked at it. “The Associated Press.” He stuffed it away. “They can wait. You were saying?”
“So why bring over these volunteers?”
“‘Volunteers’ being the magic word. The cost to us was close to zero. And when my nephew proposed it, I initially thought they’d be around six weeks or so. Not three months–plus.”
“They get along with the full-time workers?”
“As far as I know, John. Look, you’ve seen the pictures. Who wouldn’t want Gwen and Hailey around? Gwen tutored English, Hailey worked at the hospital, Owen and Scott helped with manual labor. All in all, I’d say they did a decent job. Better than I would have predicted.”
“When did they decide to go to Lamu?”
“Maybe two weeks ago. Scott’s idea.”
“Any particular reason? They could have gone on safari or climbed Kilimanjaro or come to Nairobi for the weekend. Why Lamu?”
“I didn’t ask, but I think Lamu has a certain cachet among aid workers, backpacker types. One of those places that only the cool people know about.”
Odd that Thompson didn’t put himself in the category of aid worker, Wells thought. But then, he was more of an executive, right down to his use of Wells’s first name in the conversation. Always use the other person’s name; it establishes a bond. Every management seminar on earth taught the trick.
“Ever been to Lamu yourself, James?”
“Truth is I haven’t spent all that long in Kenya. I came just about five weeks ago. I’d heard that the situation was getting tougher and I wanted to see for myself. In fact, I was supposed to leave this week, be in Haiti right now.”
“Before that, when was the last time you were here?”
“Maybe a year ago. I split my time between Houston and the country ops.”
“So who’s in charge on a day-to-day basis?”
“Her name’s Moss Laughton. Irish. Her title is director of logistics.”
“And she’s up there now?”
“Better be.”
“Okay. So this trip to Lamu, you didn’t mind.”
“My understanding before this happened was that parts of the camps were troubled, but eastern Kenya was mostly safe. Al-Shabaab has a few thousand men at most, and they’ve lost ground. They’re in Dadaab because they’re getting squeezed.”
“But haven’t there been kidnappings in Lamu?”
“That was before the Kenyans went into Somalia. Since then, no. The locals there know that tourists pay the bills.” Thompson leaned forward, put his meaty hands on his knees, locked eyes with Wells. “John, I swear to you, I told Gettleman the truth. If I thought my nephew was in danger, I wouldn’t have let him go.”
He spoke with conviction. Whatever the truth, Wells didn’t doubt he’d pass a poly. “Tell me about the driver. Suggs, right? He hasn’t come up much. Are you keeping his name out of it on purpose? Could he have been involved?”
“Possibly, yes. We called him Suggs, but his real name was Kwasi. He was our best fixer and he’d worked for us since almost our first day here. We paid him one hundred twenty thousand shillings a month. Close to fifteen hundred dollars. The most by far of our Kenyan employees.”
“But much less than the mzungus. He ever get upset about that?”
“Just FYI, John, the plural of ‘mzungu’ isn’t ‘mzungus.’ It’s ‘wazungu.’” Letting Wells know exactly how much he didn’t know. “And no, he never got upset. Local nationals know the score. As a rule, they’re happy to have these jobs.”
Wells wasn’t so sure. “He have a family?”
“Married, two kids.”
“They live in Dadaab.”
“No. Nairobi, I’m not sure where. Suggs was Kenyan, not Somali. But he’d worked the camps long enough that he was connected inside.”
“You met his wife?”
“Not yet. I should.”
“And you’ve talked to the other fixers and Suggs’s contacts in the camps?”
“Moss and our security guys have talked to everyone who works for us. Nobody will admit to knowing anything. As for the camps, that’s harder. Our security guys don’t have any authority. It’s up to the police.”
“And have the police had those interviews?”
“If they have they haven’t told me.”
“Doesn’t that bug you? They’ve been quick to put this on Shabaab.”
“It disturbs me. It doesn’t necessarily surprise me. Kenya’s deeply corrupt and the police are what you’d expect. If not worse.”
“They’re not Sherlock Holmes.”
“They’re not even the Pink Panther.”
“Okay, going back to the trip, your nephew specifically asked for Suggs to drive.”
“That’s right. A few days before.”
“Did Scott say whether he’d suggested the trip to Suggs or the other way around?”
“It wasn’t clear. I think he phrased it like, ‘We want to go to Lamu next week. Suggs says he’ll drive if that’s cool with you.’ That’s how Scott talks. I said fine.”
“Let me just detour for a second. Gwen and Hailey. They ever complain about problems with men in the camp, harassment, anything like that?”
“Not as far as I know.”
“Okay. So, in the days leading up to the trip, anything unusual happen?”
“Not that I can think of. My publisher back home had sent me the final proofs for my book. I was spending time on those. And Paula, this reporter from Houston, was coming to visit, so I wanted to make sure everything was ready.”
Wells barely stopped himself from saying something like: Sounds like you were very involved in feeding hungr
“I can guess what you’re thinking,” Thompson said. “But the
Wells wondered if Thompson had come to Kenya to be here when the reporter showed up. A hands-on chief executive instead of a guy calling the shots two continents away. But so what? Up close Thompson came off as slicker than Wells would have liked, but the truth was that WorldCares was a business, with employees all over the
