Inner Truth

by Philip Dole

  Published by BookBaby

  7905 N. Crescent Blvd.,

  Pennsauken, N.J. 08110

  This book is a work of fiction. All references, descriptions and/or identifications of a person, place or event are fictional. All resemblance with actual such matters are entirely coincidental. All rights are reserved.

  Copyright Registration

  TXu 2-222-893

  Registration Decision Date: October 20, 2020

  Registration Effective Date: December 5, 2020

  First Printing- 2021

  ISBN: 978-1-09839-131-7

  eBook ISBN 978-1-09839-132-4

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Chapter Thirty-four

  Chapter Thirty-five

  Chapter Thirty-six

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  Epilogue

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  AUTHOR BIOGRAPHY

  Prologue

  At Ahmed’s farm east of Ketama

  In Morocco’s Rif Mountains

  Friday, December 3, 2005

  7:10 a.m.

  A patchwork quilt of terraces stitched together with fieldstone walls covered the slumbering mountain. In the valley below a spiral of wood smoke rose from Ahmed’s farm as it came to life on a cold winter morning.

  Peng Wu shuffled out of the men’s tin-roofed sleeping quarters and wrapped his arms around his chest. He kicked at Ahmed’s dog when it sniffed the hem of his borrowed woolen djellaba.

  “This place is bloody awful.” Wu dipped his manicured fingers into a chipped enamel basin and yanked them out. “Hot water, damn it! Where’s the hot water?” Wu’s outburst disturbed the early morning tranquility. A donkey brayed, and several roosters crowed in reply. “It’s bad enough to stink of bloody smoke, but I won’t make my toilet in this ice water. Is a little hot water too much to ask? No, it’s bloody well not.” He knocked the basin off the washstand with a swipe of his hand.

  Habiba, Ahmed’s wife, stuck her head out the kitchen door, but when she saw Wu stomping around the corner, she jerked it back like a turtle poked with a stick. A moment later their preteen daughter, Nawwar, peeked out the same door before she tiptoed toward the washstand and refilled the basin. Her red and blue headscarf lent a splash of color to a dreary daybreak.

  Abdul al-Kabir emerged from the sleeping quarters, rubbed his face and greeted the farm girl. “Peace, my child. God’s blessings and mercy on you.” But Nawwar kept her eyes downcast and retreated without a word.

  Abdul stretched his long arms over his head and yawned. Then he spread out a small rug over the well-trodden grass, careful to point it toward Mecca. He dutifully washed his hands and face before praying. Then he knelt on the hard ground to do the first of a devout Muslim’s five daily devotions.

  Off to the side Wu mumbled to himself, “I bloody hate it here, but damn it trading for this hashish is a good deal whatever Fu might think. We’ll make fifty times our investment. If we just sold the missiles, we’d be lucky to get half that.”

  Wu approached Abdul when he rose from his knees. “Wasn’t it bloody cold last night?” Before Abdul answered, Wu continued, “Well, I thought it was. I hope you were more comfortable last night than I.”

  “God’s blessings on you. And yes, thanks to Him and His grace, I did sleep well. Of course, I live a simple life. You, on the other hand, are used to opulence, and I presume our habitation is too spartan for you. Perhaps you should follow the example of humble Believers of the One True God and live more modestly.”

  “Did you insist I join you in this nowhere to show me how humble Muslims are? I believe you did. Well, don’t waste my valuable time, you great Yemeni warrior. I’m not impressed in the least. And if I had known it would be like this, I would never have come. You never told me it would be so cold. And smell this.” Wu shoved the frayed sleeve of the djellaba he’d borrowed from Ahmed into Abdul’s face. “Smoke. Everything smells like a bloody campfire.”

  Abdul’s jaw muscles rippled, but he held his tongue.

  Wu noticed Abdul’s reaction and changed the subject. “Our deal was for top quality hashish, Abdul. That sample your farmer showed me last night was simply not good enough. I don’t give a damn how much you have to pay for it, but you’d better get me the best. If you don’t, I’ll cancel the deal.”

  Abdul began to reply, but Wu held up his hand. “No, I don’t want to hear any excuses. Don’t bother telling me two thousand kilos is a big order. I know it is. But I’ve waited patiently two months so you could make the arrangements, haven’t I? Yes, I have. And you seem to forget a dozen of these special missiles is also a big deal. N’est-ce pas, Abdul?

  “Let me make myself clear. If you don’t get the hashish, all of it top-grade, by next Wednesday, I’ll sail off and find another buyer. And then you’ll get no missiles.”

  “By God’s grace and His kindness you will get your hashish. Enshallah.” He held his hands out, palms-up, and peered down at them. “With God’s blessing the missiles are almost in these hands. Allah makes a success of all that is good. So we shall not fail. Those missiles are the spearhead of our most glorious jihad against the Kingdom of Satan. Humdu’llah.

  “When we have them, the infidels’ airplanes will fall out of the sky like raindrops. They will tremble in terror like the cowards they truly are. We shall succeed because we have Allah’s blessings.”

  “If you say so, Abdul. But don’t be late delivering the hash- all best grade. My yacht won’t wait even one day. It’s far too dangerous to dally on the coast. Do you understand?”

  “There will be no delay, my friend. Enshallah. But we want new Chinese missiles. If you try to trick us with old Stingers or worthless Russian clones, I vow upon the Messenger of God, His Companions, and all who follow Him I shall slaughter you like a sheep. I’ll run your blood on the ground and burn all that is left.” He slipped his hand into his djellaba, pulling out a large khanjar and mimed slashing Wu’s neck with the curved-bladed dagger. “Do you understand me?” He smiled, showing a mouth of decrepit teeth. “No heat seekers. All of them must be the newest laser-guided ones. That is what we agreed upon, my corpulent friend. Then the infidels will beg for mercy.”

  Chapter One

  In a one-room office above the surf shop

  100 Hana Highway

  Paia, Maui, Hawaii

  Friday, December 3, 2005 2:33 p.m.

  The windows needed a good cleaning, and the floor lay bare. Books spilled out of a couple of open boxes. And a sheet of paper taped to the door read, “Tyler B. Pierce, Attorney at Law.”

  The woman standing in the doorwa
y shook her head as she watched him dig through a box. Then she cleared her throat.

  Tyler’s unexpected visitor was definitely not local. She was the epitome of elegant. She wore a cream linen suit with the skirt cut to just above her knee and a purple silk blouse that accentuated her slim figure. She had gold bangles piled on one slender wrist and wore a jade watch on the other. Her full lips needed no lipstick. She had done her black hair in a loose French twist with a large yellow plumeria blossom tucked behind her right ear.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Pierce. I am Chang Tao Lei.” She looked around, resting a manicured hand lightly on her hip. “May I sit down?”

  The only other chair was buried in law books. Uncommon in the digital age Tyler preferred to do his research with books. He relished the chance to think as he flipped pages back and forth. He wasn’t ashamed about being old-fashioned.

  “Of course. Please, Ms. Lei, have a seat.” He cleared off a chair, and when he placed it behind her, he caught a whiff of lilacs.

  “Thank you.” As she sat, she coughed delicately into her hand. “But it’s not Ms. Lei. My family name is Chang.”

  Chagrined at his faux pas, he wiped his palms on his trousers. He recognized a certain sensation, and it didn’t have anything to do with his faux pas or his appointment calendar.

  “I beg your pardon, Ms. Chang.”

  She accepted his apology with a slight nod. “Thank you for seeing me without an appointment. I am interested to know if you will represent my brother, Niko.”

  Tyler was thrilled. He needed walk-in clients to succeed in solo practice. “How can I be of service?”

  “My brother was arrested by the people at the airport for presenting a false passport. Have you ever handled one of those cases?”

  “No, I’ve never had a false passport case before, but they are straightforward. And unlike most attorneys I know the criminal system because I worked in a prosecutor’s office. I know how to craft a good plea offer, not that I’m prejudging the merits of any defenses your brother may have. If a trial is called for, then a trial it will be. But with a less serious offense such as this, your brother only faces minor punishment. And mounting a defense might not be necessary.”

  “With all due respect, Mr. Pierce, do you believe you’re the right attorney to handle my brother’s case?”

  There was nothing on the walls. His undergraduate diploma leaned against a pile of books, and the few shelves left by the prior tenant were empty.

  “Excuse the mess, but I’m just moving in. And I’m working on an important case.”

  “If you working on an important case, Mr. Pierce, perhaps you do not have enough time for my brother’s case?”

  “No, I’m sure I have enough time.”

  “Forgive me for being frank, Mr. Pierce, but my younger brother is the dearest person in my life. I shall do anything and everything I can for him. Our family is counting on me to bring him home. Niko was wrong to use the false passport, but he is not a criminal. He was here on behalf of our family dry cleaning business. This is just a big mistake, and I must take him home.

  “I am staying at the Kea Lani Resort, and I will not leave until I am sure he gets the right attorney. And please, Mr. Pierce, I would prefer you call me Lei.”

  Lei smiled and held out her right hand, palm down. He cringed, scared stiff she expected him to kiss her hand. He had seen Arnold, his father and Mr. Debonair himself, kiss a woman’s hand, but he had never dared. He just shook her hand, relieved when she returned it.

  “But,” she swept her arm across her body, “this is not what I expected. Perhaps we should hire another lawyer.”

  He pressed his lips together. He didn’t want to lose this potential client. He needed to show his father he could succeed in his brand-new solo practice by signing up a client right out of the gate.

  “Ms. Chang, I’m trying to help people who need help. Your brother’s case is straightforward, and I am confident I can help him.” He had not used her first name intentionally.

  She nodded and squinted her raven eyes as she peered at his diploma. “I see you attended Washington University. I’ve never heard of it. Is it a good school?”

  “Yes. It’s an excellent school.”

  “Is that in the State of Washington or in Washington, D.C.?”

  “Neither, actually. It’s in St. Louis.”

  “So why do they call it Washington University?”

  “It’s named after George Washington. But I don’t think that matters in the long run, do you? And if it will ease your mind, I went to Harvard Law School. You’ve heard of Harvard, haven’t you?” He didn’t try to soften his tone.

  “I’m prepared to do everything possible for your brother, and don’t you agree that’s the important thing, Ms. Chang?”

  “I agree. But I am not certain you are the one to work on this case, Mr. Pierce. Perhaps we should find someone else.”

  “You’re wrong, Ms. Chang. I am exactly the right attorney to help your brother because I will do absolutely everything possible to help him. Do you believe a big shot attorney in a fancy office will do that in a simple false passport case? I don’t think so. He’ll just go through the motions. But I promise you I’ll leave no stone unturned in Niko’s case.” Looking directly at her, he added with all the gravity he could summon, “I give you my solemn word on that, Ms. Chang.”

  A light flickered in her eyes. “Fine. I respect you for considering your pledge a matter of principle, Mr. Pierce. But do you understand although this might be a minor case to you, it’s the most important one in the world to me?”

  “Yes, I do. It’s family. He’s your brother.”

  “That’s right. Family. Please help him. He’s so upset he won’t even talk to me sometimes. Do you believe you might be able to have him released? Aren’t foreigners convicted of minor crimes just deported straight off?”

  Her grasp of the situation was impressive. Smart women didn’t intimidate Tyler. To the contrary he found them stimulating.

  “That’s right, Ms. Chang. Perhaps Niko’s problem can be resolved simply.”

  Then he had a brainstorm. He had experienced this phenomenon before when a complete idea materialized in his conscious mind without any prior hint. He had learned by painful experience they were not always good ideas. But sometimes they were excellent ideas that worked out very well, and in his desperation he latched onto this one.

  “Ms. Chang, why don’t I call the U.S. Attorney’s office right now and see what they think about a quick resolution? What name was on the passport?”

  “Ming Hua Qiang.”

  “I assume Niko can afford to pay a fine?”

  “Of course. Money is not an issue.” She gave him a big smile. He was thrilled to see it. He needed to reel in a wealthy client to convince his father he could succeed.

  Lei leaned forward and put her manicured fingers on the edge of his desk.

  “Okay. Then let’s try calling them.” Tyler figured even if his proposal was rejected, it would at least show Lei he wanted the case. He dialed the number and put the call on speakerphone.

  “This is attorney Tyler Pierce. May I please speak with the attorney assigned to detainee Ming Hua Qiang? He was recently arrested for a false passport.”

  “One moment please.”

  “David Hacker speaking.”

  “Mr. Hacker, this is Tyler Pierce, I represent an alien, Ming Hua Qiang, arrested for presenting a false passport.” It was his first federal case, and he had never spoken with Hacker before. He wasn’t sure how this kind of minor case was handled in the federal system, but he assumed it was appropriate for him to open early plea discussions.

  “How can I help you, Mr. Pierce?”

  “I’m hoping we can reach an early resolution. I know you intend to deport my client, and we have no objection to that. We are prepared to p
ay a reasonable fine and court costs. But why keep him in the detention facility longer than necessary? Why not take my client’s guilty plea and expel him right away? Get him out of the lock-up and out of your hair.”

  Pleased his proposition sounded so reasonable, Lei nodded

  approvingly.

  “Wait a minute, Mr. Pierce. I want to put you on the speaker to share your proposal with the other attorneys working on this case.” There was a pause. Then sounding differently over the speakerphone, Hacker continued, “Please tell my associates what you told me.”

  Tyler wondered why more than one attorney would be interested in such a minor offense. Perhaps Hacker just wanted his associates to hear the proposal directly from him. So he repeated himself, careful not to change any of the key terms. “Well, Mr. Hacker, what do you think?”

  After a moment of silence raucous laughter filled his office. Bewildered, Tyler sat petrified as it reverberated around the bare walls of his office. The laughter went on and on as his confusion morphed into horror. Finally a merciful soul in Hacker’s office hung up.

  Tyler buried his face in his hands. Hacker had just mocked him in the presence of his potential client’s sister, and he was mortified.

  As Lei rose to leave, she spoke the very words he didn’t want to hear, “Perhaps Niko would be better off with another attorney, Mr. Pierce.”

  Chapter Two

  In the one-room office above the surf shop

  100 Hana Highway,

  Paia, Maui, Hawaii

  Friday, December 3, 2005

  2:44 p.m.

  The clacking of Lei’s high heels down the stairs grew fainter while Tyler suffered. Replaying the details of the horrible call, he struggled to figure out where he’d gone wrong. But his emotions were too raw for rational thought. The peals of laughter hemorrhaged his psyche. It was bleeding fears of inadequacy.

  Tyler was starting his legal practice on his own terms and wanted to keep Niko as a client. But he needed help and reluctantly phoned his father.

  “Thank heaven.” Tyler breathed with relief when Arnold answered. In the years since being exiled from St. Louis in social disgrace, Arnold hadn’t carried a cell phone. It was his strike back at a world he had once ruled.