The Rooster Bar by John Grisham

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Categories	Thrillers & Suspense
Author	John Grisham
Publisher	Anchor; Reprint edition (June 19, 2018)
Language	English
Paperback	400 pages
Item Weight	8 ounces
Dimensions	4.19 x 0.95 x 7.48 inches

I. Book introduction

The Rooster Bar is the 25th legal thriller novel by John Grisham. Grisham was inspired to create the story after reading an article titled “The Law-School Scam” that appeared in The Atlantic magazine in 2014.

#1 NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER • John Grisham’s newest legal thriller takes you inside a law firm that’s on shaky ground.

Mark, Todd, and Zola came to law school to change the world, to make it a better place. But now, as third-year students, these close friends realize they have been duped. They all borrowed heavily to attend a third-tier, for-profit law school so mediocre that its graduates rarely pass the bar exam, let alone get good jobs. And when they learn that their school is one of a chain owned by a shady New York hedge-fund operator who also happens to own a bank specializing in student loans, the three know they have been caught up in The Great Law School Scam.

But maybe there’s a way out. Maybe there’s a way to escape their crushing debt, expose the bank and the scam, and make a few bucks in the process. But to do so, they would first have to quit school. And leaving law school a few short months before graduation would be completely crazy, right? Well, yes and no …

Pull up a stool, grab a cold one, and get ready to spend some time at The Rooster Bar.

Plot

Three third-year law students – Mark Frazier, Todd Lucero, and Zola Maal – all attend Foggy Bottom Law School (FBLS), a third-tier D.C. establishment with a reputation as a diploma mill. Zola contacts Mark and Todd when her boyfriend, Gordon Tanner, stops taking medication for his worsening bipolar disorder. They discover that Gordon, in his mania, has been collecting evidence that Hinds Rackley, the investor who owns FBLS, runs a network of schools, law firms and banks which ensures that FBLS’ students are stuck in a cycle of debt while Rackley makes millions in the process. Although this practice isn’t illegal, Gordon is convinced that there’s enough for a class-action lawsuit that would, at the very least, expose Rackley’s fraud. Later that night, Gordon gets drunk and flees the apartment, getting arrested for DUI. The trio bail him out with the help of Darrell Crowley, a professional street lawyer, and Mark tries to find Gordon’s doctor. Before he can, however, Gordon escapes again and commits suicide by jumping off a bridge.

Distraught, and blamed for Gordon’s death by his family and friends, Mark and Todd realize that they have no future at FBLS; Mark’s promised job at a D.C. firm is withdrawn, and both he and Todd drop out. The two get jobs at The Rooster Bar, a pub owned by Todd’s boss Maynard. Mark persuades him to lease the two some office space, and they, together with Zola, set up an unlicensed firm called Upshaw, Parker, and Lane (UPL). Inspired by Crowley, Mark and Todd decide to pose as lawyers under assumed identities and work the D.C. courts for clients, arguing to Zola that they can get rich while avoiding FBLS and their creditors, so long as no one discovers that they are engaged in a criminal enterprise. Uncertain, but aware that she also has nothing better to look forward to, Zola agrees to join them.

The firm is initially a success, with Mark and Todd winning several victories and collecting payouts while Zola attempts to expand their practice into personal injury, an area that none of them have any real expertise in. Seeking a quick payday, Mark agrees to file a lawsuit on behalf of Ramon Taper, a man whose infant son died due to negligence at the hospital where he was born. An expert assures Mark that his case is sound, and he refers it to another lawyer, Jeffrey Corbett, who informs Mark that he’s been deceived: the statute of limitations on the case ran out while he was preparing it, meaning he and UPL could now be sued for legal malpractice by their client. With no other way out, Mark reluctantly informs Edwin Mossberg, the lawyer for Ramon’s ex-wife, that he is not a lawyer and would therefore be ruined if the case were to proceed. Mossberg agrees to drop it, but passes the information along to the D.C. bar. Meanwhile, Ramon, furious that Mark has stopped taking his calls, gets a new attorney: Crowley.

Mark, Todd, and Zola decide to focus their efforts on Swift Bank, one of Rackley’s outfits, which will soon have to pay billions in settlements over charges that it defrauded its customers. By inventing thousands of fake clients and forwarding them to different firms involved in the settlement, the three bet that they can make enough money to flee the country, just as the bar’s investigation heats up. Maynard fires Mark and Todd to protect himself, and the police arrest them for practicing without licenses, though they are allowed to go free so long as they stay in town. In the middle of it all, Zola is forced to travel to Senegal after her immigrant parents are extorted by corrupt officials. Using $26,000 from UPL’s account provided by Mark and Todd, she is able to hire a well-connected lawyer, Idina Sanga, who gets them released from custody. At the same time, Mark and Todd blackmail Rackley with Gordon’s evidence to stop dragging his feet on the settlements. At Mark and Todd’s trial, Crowley, Ramon, and many of their former clients cause a scene when they reveal the extent of UPL’s misconduct.

Setting up a hedge fund in the Caribbean to handle their finances, Mark and Todd obtain fake passports and leave the US just as evidence of their fraud allows Rackley to force a temporary halt to the settlements, but not before enough money is transferred to the fund to allow them to reunite with Zola in Senegal. With news that a grand jury has indicted all three on racketeering charges, Mark cuts several checks to pay off their law school debts as well as take care of their families. Knowing that they will never be able to return home, they assume false identities and purchase a bar to run, which they name The Rooster Bar.

Editorial Reviews

• “[A] buoyant, mischievous thriller . . . Grisham writes in such an inventive spirit. . . . A treat.”—Janet Maslin, The New York Times
• “Satisfying . . . Grisham [is] at his best when he brings his sardonic sense of humor to the sometimes questionable ethics of law and banking.”—USA Today
• “[A] smartly told tale . . . gratifying and all-too-real.”—The Washington Post

About John Grisham

John Grisham (born February 8, 1955 in Jonesboro, Arkansas) is an American novelist, lawyer and former member of the 7th district of the Mississippi House of Representatives, known for his popular legal thrillers. According to the American Academy of Achievement, Grisham has written 28 consecutive number-one fiction bestsellers, and his books have sold 300 million copies worldwide. Along with Tom Clancy and J. K. Rowling, Grisham is one of only three authors to have sold two million copies on a first printing.

Grisham graduated from Mississippi State University and earned a Juris Doctor from the University of Mississippi School of Law in 1981. He practised criminal law for about a decade and served in the Mississippi House of Representatives from 1983 to 1990.

Grisham’s first novel, A Time to Kill, was published in June 1989, four years after he began writing it. Grisham’s first bestseller, The Firm, sold more than seven million copies. The book was adapted into a 1993 feature film of the same name, starring Tom Cruise, and a 2012 TV series which continues the story ten years after the events of the film and novel. Seven of his other novels have also been adapted into films:

• The Chamber,
• The Client,
• A Painted House,
• The Pelican Brief,
• The Rainmaker,
• The Runaway Jury, and Skipping Christmas.

Grisham is a two-time winner of the Harper Lee Prize for Legal Fiction and was honored with the Library of Congress Creative Achievement Award for Fiction.

When he’s not writing, Grisham serves on the board of directors of the Innocence Project and of Centurion Ministries, two national organizations dedicated to exonerating those who have been wrongfully convicted. Much of his fiction explores deep-seated problems in our criminal justice system.

John Girsham lives on a farm in central Virginia.

II. Reviewer: The Rooster Bar

Here is a summary of the book Review “The Rooster Bar by John Grisham”. Helps you have the most overview of the book without searching through time. Please access “BookQuote.Net” regularly or save it to keep track and update the latest information.

1. JULIE MORRIS reviews for The Rooster Bar

Ah, Autumn. Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness. Back to school, the weather starts to nip, boots and coats are dug out of the closet, the leaves change colour and…it is time for a new John Grisham release. I always equate this time of year with the time to get a new one of his book. I now always have them on pre-order so I get them the day they come out, because I absolutely love his books. Always an edge-of-your-seat, irresistible combination of thriller and legal puzzle, his book are guaranteed to keep me glued to the pages from start to finish. I normally devour them as soon as they are out.

So imagine my surprise when, whilst waiting for his new book The Reckoning to be published, I realised that I hadn’t read last year’s release, The Rooster Bar. How did that happen? I can’t imagine except that my memory is like a sieve these days (I blame my age and hormones. In fact, it is even possible that I have read it and forgotten, things have got that bad.) Anyway, happy days – I now had another unread John Grisham to enjoy on my recent holiday.

I am always fascinated as to where authors get their ideas for novels from and there is an interesting note at the back of this book where Grisham reveals that the idea for this novel came from an article he read about the level of debt students in the US were taking on in order to put themselves through law school. Quite how he goes from what sounds like quite a dull article, particularly to non-lawyers, to a nail-biting thriller is the nature of his genius, because somehow he manages to spin it in to one of his classic plots that kept me up late desperate to get to the end.

The plot of this book is quite outrageous and I think you need to suspend your disbelief to buy in to it, but that is true of most thrillers, which are by their nature outlandish and pushing the boundaries of what is probable. These books are pure escapism, sometimes keeping only a slight grasp on reality and I am sure the court system in the USA would be outraged to think this could possibly happen (although I am now waiting for someone to tell me that it has been done.) Anyway, likelihood aside, the plot is original and gripping and an interesting spin on the ‘heroes’ and ‘villains’ roles as the protagonists are actually breaking the law but we still end up rooting for them, despite the fact that they are jeopardising the futures of their clients, because they themselves are victims in some respects. Should they get away scot-free? Is what happens to them justice? I don’t want to give anything away by revealing my thoughts but I think you will find more to ponder in these books than people often give Grisham credit for.

When I have revealed to people in the past what a massive fan I am of John Grisham’s books, I have met with some literary snobbery, most particularly from people who have never read any of his books. Well, firstly, I would query whether you can form a valid opinion of an author without reading a word they have written. And, secondly, you don’t sell as many books as John Grisham has without being able to write. He is the master of creating a taut, exciting and interesting thriller and this one is no exception. I thoroughly enjoyed it, as I always do, and can’t wait to read his new book.

2. C WM (ANDY) ANDERSON reviews for The Rooster Bar

“The Rooster Bar” Typical Fun Grisham Read but with a Difference…

INTRO:The Rooster Bar is typical Grisham, relating to us the stories of three young, disillusioned lawyers. In one sentence, stays true to his formula with this book. What makes a difference, for me anyway, is that character development is improved. Read on to learn more…

*** ARE THERE PROFANITIES USED? ***

Yes, sparingly used and with no overly harsh terms.

POV Told in third person point of view.

KEY POINTS

BLUSH FACTOR This is a story you can read aloud without great embarrassment to your 80-year-old grandmother.

To give a feel for the editing, and the style and flow of this work, I am posting a brief excerpt below.

Excerpt

‘…Zola finally said, “Let’s go,” and they walked to the front door. A temporary sign beside it read, “Bardtown Federal Detention Facility. Immigration and Customs Enforcement. Office of Detention and Removal Operations. Department of Homeland Security. DHS, DRO, ICE. Administration Building.”

They stared at the sign and Todd mumbled, “Alphabet soup.”

To which Mark replied, “Let’s hope they’ve met the ACLU.”

They walked through the doors and entered a reception area. There were no signs to guide them, so Mark stopped a thick young man in a uniform. “Excuse me, sir, but where is the visiting area?”

“What kind of visitors?”

“Well, we would like to see one of your inmates.”

“They’re called detainees.”

“Okay, we would like to see one of your detainees.”

Reluctantly, he pointed down the hall and said, “Try down there.”

“Thank you so much.” They drifted down the wide hallway, looking for a sign that would indicate anything to do with visitation. Because it was a federal facility, there were employees everywhere, all in uniforms that varied. Beefy young men swaggering around with guns on their belts and “ICE” in bold letters on the backs of their parkas. Clerks with white shirts and ties and gold badges over their pockets. Cops who appeared to be nothing more than county deputies.

They walked to a counter where three young ladies were camped out. One was shuffling papers while the other two were enjoying their afternoon snacks. Zola said, “Excuse me, but I’m here to see my parents.”

“And who are your parents?” asked the gal with the paperwork.

“Where are they from?”

“Well, they’re from New Jersey, but Senegal originally. They were picked up yesterday.”

“Oh, they’re detainees?” Mark bit his tongue to keep from blurting…’

“Maal. My father is Abdou, my mother is Fanta. Maal. M-A-A-L.”

Grisham, John. The Rooster Bar (Kindle Locations 1187-1205). Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.

Bottom Line:

When I sit down to read a Grisham novel, I’m looking for insight into the challenges faced by young legal professionals and how they persevere. I pretty much know the formula, but, due to his good writing, I seldom find disappointment with his tried-and-true formulaic writing. In “The Rooster Bar,” I not only was not disappointed, I found the character development to be improved.

Four stars out of five.

Comments regarding your opinion of this book or of my review, whether favorable or unfavorable, are always welcome. If you buy the book based on my review and become disappointed, especially, I do want to know that and I want to understand how I can improve as a book reviewer. Just please be polite.

Thank you.

3. LINDA reviews for The Rooster Bar

Oh, Grisham……

You are like the gentleman caller who promises wine and roses, but in the aftermath, there’s a bit of a dull headache and the barb of the thorn.

My legs are dangling off a barstool in the ol’ Rooster Bar. There’s plenty to ponder here. Fellow occupants Mark, Todd, and Zola are in their third year of law school at Foggy Bottom (Yep). Many an individual drowns their sorrows here. But these law students, along with their buddy Gordy, are drowning in student loan debts. Just like the crotchety bartender tops off your drink, Foggy Bottom adds another layer of debt each year…..only there’s no delightful buzz involved.

Promises of employment after graduation fizzles much like flat beer. Now desperation sets in and Gordy takes it to another level. He is becoming undone at a fast rate. His behavior is sporatic and he obsesses over details. There are papers tacked to the wall and scattered onto the floor in heaping piles in his apartment. Gordy is on to something big. But exactly what? His three friends keep a vigil over him. What to do about Gordy…..

But when you fall off that barstool, don’t get back on. Look for another bar. And that’s exactly what Mark, Todd, and Zola intend to do. It’s time to scam the scammers. When your back is against the wall, you don a more steely personality and you deal with it. And there’s plenty of wheeling and dealing going on here.

John Grisham seems to be re-creating himself in these later years. He tended to peter out a bit in The Whistler, but redeemed himself well into Camino Island. Grisham grabs text from daily headlines and circles the wagons around them. You’ll see evidence of just that in The Rooster Bar. There are gaps in some of the premises that he throws into this one. But we are a forgiving lot and move along with the flow of the storyline. The Rooster Bar does entertain which is why I ratcheted it up to 4 stars. It delivers, but not at the 101 proof shot of Wild Turkey bourbon as in the past. There’s still a kick to be had though.

4. MATTHEW reviews for The Rooster Bar

More disgruntled lawyer-types from Grisham doing questionable lawyer-type stuff. While not quite the same, I am reminded of The Litigators. If I ever really need a lawyer, I hope I don’t end up with one from a Grisham novel!

This book was like watching a trainwreck and was actually quite enjoyable. His recent efforts have been both good (Camino Island) and disappointing (The Whistler). Luckily this one falls into the good category. While the series of events within are far fetched (as they often are with Grisham), I did not have a problem accepting them and enjoying the story. Sometimes if they are too far fetched or totally ridiculous, they are too distracting.

If you are a fan of Grisham’s legal dramas, you know what you are you are getting into and I can almost guarantee you are going to enjoy.

5. SUE reviews for The Rooster Bar

Countless times we’ve been told about the importance of the first sentence of a book. We are told that editors and publishers scrutinize the first sentence and if they don’t like it you lost a deal. Many books might not get written because the budding writer cannot think of the perfect opening.

Yet, for a reader, the last sentence makes or breaks the story. It is what will sound in our ears for some time after we closed the book.

While reading “The Rooster Bar” I admit thinking that it is not Grisham’s Best. But when I came to the last sentence, I knew I liked the book. Liked it very much.

He created very likeable characters despite them being liars, cheaters, dropouts, criminals even. No pretense, no hypocrisy. Identifiable with anyone of us. Driven by a simple urge to make some living and escape the debts, frustrated when found out that they’ve been scammed they make lots of mistakes. Grisham also briefly, but cleverly touched the problem of illegal immigration and the consequences of deportation.

All in all, I think the book is great, and the last sentence is excellent.

6. LORNA reviews for The Rooster Bar

As the book jacket says, “Pull up a stool, grab a cold one, and get ready to spend some time at The Rooster Bar.”

The latest legal thriller focuses on issues John Grisham is shining a light on, namely for-profit law schools, student loan debt and the U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE). Four third-year students at Foggy Bottom Law School in Washington D.C. are in their final semester, assessing their crushing debt and lack of employment opportunities, partially due to the poor reputation of their for-profit law school. As the scam becomes more and more apparent as they follow all of the leads, these friends find a unique way to resolve their dilemma as they attempt to turn the tables on the powers behind the for-profit law schools and the associated student loan scams.

From class-action suits to the unauthorized practice of law, this was a good book. While their actions were questionable and often unethical, if you subscribe to the old adage, “the ends justify the means,” you can’t help but cheer. I definitely enjoyed my time at The Rooster Bar.

7. STEPHEN L.DALTON reviews for The Rooster Bar

If you are looking for an entertaining legal thriller, pick up The Rooster Bar and decide for yourself.

As a John Grisham fan, I was eager to read his newest crime action drama, The Rooster Bar. Grisham’s readers often expect a fast-paced story with vivid characters and a plot filled with thrilling twists and turns, and this book does not disappoint. The Rooster Bar is a sharp criticism of today’s educational, financial, and immigration systems. Grisham savages the shady colleges and universities which are far more interested in creating large profits than in enriching the lives of their students. The book also exposes corruption in the student loan industry and the excesses of Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE).

This crime action drama follows three students at the fictional Foggy Bottom Law School: Mark, Todd, and Zola. They all borrowed heavily (each nearly $200,000) to attend school, and they are struggling in their personal and professional lives. All of them were betting heavily on their earnings as lawyers to pay back their high-interest loans. The schools recruiting videos and TV ads sold them on how easy it was to borrow the money and get a high-paying job in a law firm.

As they progress through law school, they become aware that their school has a low percentage of graduates that pass the bar exam and only a few of those that do get well-paying jobs. They find out that even that was an elaborate hoax, as the mega-millionaire also controlled eight law firms where they would hire a few of the graduates and start them at a high salary, use them in their recruiting ads, and then lower their salaries at annual reviews.

Gordy, a friend of the three main characters and romantically linked to Zola, traces a conspiracy linking Foggy Bottom to a lender in the student loan industry. His suicide leads the three friends to investigate further. The three decide that exposing the corruption is more important than receiving tainted law school degrees. They drop out of law school, assume new identities, and set up a fake and unlicensed law firm of their own with the goal of taking down Foggy Bottom and its financial partners.

The plot builds in excitement until this crime action drama provides a thrilling climax. Grisham’s reuse of a plot device from The Firm was one of my few real problems with this book, though some avid Grisham fans could rationalize it as an update to an ongoing problem, which in a way it is.

Grisham manages to make us sympathetic to these underdogs even though their methods are almost as shady as those of the law school they are trying to expose. I especially enjoyed the development of Zola’s character. Born to undocumented parents from Senegal, she becomes heavily involved in the politics of immigration after the deportation of her family members. Zola’s family’s experiences with the immigration system lend urgency to her character.

Other reviewers have criticized Grisham’s last few books for having lost the spark and thrill of his earlier works, but I found that The Rooster Bar was a return to his usual form. The characters came to life for me and were the best part of this crime action drama. Despite the slightly predictable plot twist, this courtroom drama was as engaging as any Grisham novel.

Grisham’s new book The Rooster Bar will not disappoint fans of crime action drama, though those who have read The Firm might be turned off by the reuse of an older plot device, it is a small point, and after you get into the story, it will not matter that much. The characters of Mark, Todd, and Zola carry the book and cause the readers to root for them even though they operate outside the law. If you are looking for an entertaining legal read, pick up The Rooster Bar and decide for yourself.

8. VEGASBILL reviews for The Rooster Bar

I thought I had read, and enjoyed, all of Grisham’s books until I saw this one and realized I had somehow missed it. To say it is very different is a bit of an understatement. It’s the story of four disillusioned law students working for their degrees in a third rate diploma mill while amassing massive student debt. Their scheme to escape their lives as losers involves a string of bad decisions and the commission of many white collar crimes. The result is, even though we sympathize with the students, there are really no good guys in the story. As their troubles mount they find themselves in a downward spiral trying desperately to get out of trouble but each new scheme seems to only exacerbate their problems.

As in most Grisham books the writing is fluid and keeps the reader moving through the story with ease. The characters are interesting and the creativity of the students’ “solutions” makes for an intriguing plot. The big negative is because of the worsening of the students plight as the story progresses it is a rather depressing story. I can’t say I didn’t enjoy it but this is not a read which will lift your spirits.

9. DONNA reviews for The Rooster Bar

This wasn’t quite 4 stars, but I’ll round up for the beginning and the ending. I’ve enjoyed Grisham novels, mostly his legal thrillers. I liked the humor, the dialogue, and the characters the most in this one. The hook in the beginning was effective and pulled me right in. I kept thinking this was the best Grisham novel I’ve read in a while. That feeling lasted for the first third of this book. That is where the story deviates from the hook and becomes about something entirely different. For me, the shift was a missed opportunity but that is probably because I’ve read many of his books and maybe I expected the whole conspiracy theories and class action lawsuits to be more central. These remained in the periphery.

This may not have been what I expected, but I still enjoyed it. I liked the characters a lot, and I enjoyed the ending. So 4 stars.

10. MONNIE reviews for The Rooster Bar

“O, what a tangled web we weave when first we practise to deceive!” — Sir Walter Scott

I lost count of the times that quote popped into my head as I followed the adventures (and misadventures) of law school students Todd, Mark and Zola. Just one semester away from graduation at the Foggy Bottom Law School in Washington, D.C., the friends realize their school is mostly a sham and they’re hundreds of thousands of dollars in student loan debt with no hope of getting meaningful employment even if they pass the bar exam (which, not insignificantly, most graduates fail to do).

On top of that, Zola’s parents, who have been in the United States as productive, but illegal, residents for nearly a quarter of a century, are in danger of being summarily rounded up and kicked back to their native Senegal. It’s a bleak outlook all around, to say the least. But then comes the discovery that their for-profit diploma is one of several owned by a filthy rich guy who also owns a bank that hustles student loans. So as they gather ’round a table at the neighborhood Rooster Bar, a plan starts to hatch – one that begins with dropping out of school.

In a very real sense, though, their plan is nothing to crow about. From the start – with the tactics they’ll take to earn money to live on – virtually everything they do is illegal and could land them in jail if they’re caught. It’s also a seat-of-the-pants operation; as one door closes, they’re forced to find another one that opens – and so it continues until the end, when everything that goes around, comes around. How they pull everything off admittedly tests the limits of credibility here and there, but it also provides a wild but enjoyable romp for readers as well as a chance for the author to put the spotlight on injustices (as he sees them) in the student loan industry and immigration policies. Kudos for another one well done!

III. The Rooster Bar Quotes

The best book quotes from The Rooster Bar by John Grisham

“This crook is Alan Grind, a Seattle-based lawyer and a limited partner in Varanda. Grind owns a law firm called King & Roswell, another low-tier operation with two hundred lawyers in five cities, primarily out west.” He pointed to the left, where King & Roswell held a spot next to Quinn & Vyrdoliac. “Of Grind’s two hundred lawyers, forty-five came from the eight law schools.”

“Passant is Piss Ant, third-largest student loan collecting racket in the country. It’s under contract to the Department of Education to ‘service,’ as they like to say, student debt. There’s over a trillion dollars out there, owed by fools like us. Passant is a bunch of terrorists, been sued a number of times for abusive debt collection practices. Rackley owns a chunk of it. The man is pure evil.”

“Upshaw, Parker & Lane, Attorneys-at-Law. Mark Upshaw and Todd Lane. New names, new phone numbers, a new future. The address was 1504 Florida Avenue, same as The Rooster Bar.”

“These are mistakes, not regrets. Regrets are over and done with and a waste of time to rehash. Mistakes, though, are bad moves in the past that might affect the future.”

“The Bardtown Federal Detention Facility was in a secluded valley three miles off Interstate 99 and twenty miles south of Altoona. If there was a town nearby, it wasn’t visible.”

“I read an article in the September 2014 edition of The Atlantic titled “The Law School Scam.” It’s a fine investigative piece by Paul Campos.”

“The more bodies they have, the more money they make. Homeland Security, which ICE answers to, has a quota, one mandated by Congress. No other law enforcement agency operates on a quota system.”

“Because of their sacrifice, she had been given the gift of citizenship, a permanent status she had done nothing to earn. They had worked like dogs in a country they were proud of, with the dream of one day belonging. How, exactly, would their removal benefit this great nation of immigrants? It made no sense and seemed unjustly cruel.”

“We’re violating too many laws. Unauthorized practice. Tax evasion. And I suppose some code section on labor laws. If we join the class action against Swift, we can add that to our list.” “Are you having second thoughts?” Todd asked. “No. You?” “No, but I do worry about Zola. At times I feel like we’ve dragged her into it. She’s awfully fragile right now, and frightened.” Mark opened his eyes and stretched his legs. “True, but at least she feels safe now. She has a good hiding spot”

“I read a story once about a guy who killed himself. Some shrink was going on about the futility of trying to understand it. It’s impossible, makes no sense at all. Once a person reaches that point, he’s in another world, one that his survivors will never understand.”

“…with the damage meter still clicking away.”

“A major flaw in this defective system is that no LSAT score is too low to be admitted. These dipshit law schools will take anybody who can borrow the federal money, and, as stated, anybody can borrow the federal money.”

“Go where?” Todd asked, rubbing his eyes. “To jail, ass face. Let’s go.”

“She fell for the scam that easy federal money could make law school possible for everyone, and took the first bold steps that would lead to Foggy Bottom.”

“He’s such a good boy.” Maybe. Louie had flirted around the edges of the drug scene throughout high school. There were plenty of red flags but his parents had always chosen to ignore them. At every sign of trouble, they had rushed in to defend him and believe his lies. They had enabled Louie, and now the bill was due.”

“being nothing more than a prison. As Todd slowed the car, he said, “It looks like one of those”

“And now, with one semester to go, Mark was staring miserably at the reality of graduating with a combined total, undergrad and law school, principal and interest, of $266,000 in debt.”

“The taxpayers are getting screwed by Congress and the Department of Education.”

“regardless of their LSAT scores,”

“carry-on bag with some clothing and a toothbrush. The room was a wreck and he was sick of it. After spending nine nights there he saw no need to check out at the front desk. The room charges were covered for two more days. So he walked away, leaving behind dirty clothing that belonged to both him and Todd, stacks of paperwork, none of which was incriminating, some magazines, discarded toiletries, and the rented printer, from which he had removed the memory chip. He walked a few blocks, hailed a cab, and rode to JFK, where he paid $650 cash for a round-trip ticket to Bridgetown, Barbados. The guard”

“Half the fee. That’s how the big tort lawyers operate, by referrals. Grunts like us go out and find the cases, then hand ’em over to the guys who know what they’re doing, and then sit back and wait on the money.”

“He’d finished college with $60,000 in loans, and no job.”

“and she really didn’t like the taste of any of it anyway, she was more receptive to other temptations, primarily fashion and sex. She was almost six feet tall and was often told how great she looked in tight jeans. Her first boyfriend happily taught her all about sex. Her second introduced her to recreational drugs. By the end of her junior year she silently and defiantly considered herself”

Excerpted from The Rooster Bar by John Grisham

Chapter 1 – The Rooster Bar

The end of the year brought the usual holiday festivities, though around the Frazier house there was little to cheer. Mrs. Frazier went through the motions of decorating a small tree and wrapping a few cheap gifts and baking cookies no one really wanted, and, as always, she kept The Nutcracker running nonstop on the stereo as she gamely hummed along in the kitchen as though the season was merry.

Things were anything but merry. Mr. Frazier had moved out three years earlier, and he wasn’t missed as much as he was despised. In no time, he had moved in with his young secretary, who, as things developed, was already pregnant. Mrs. Frazier, jilted, humiliated, broke, and depressed, was still struggling.

Louie, her younger son, was under house arrest, sort of free on bail, and facing a rough year ahead with the drug charges and all. He made no effort to buy his mom anything in the way of a gift. His excuse was that he couldn’t leave the house because of the court-ordered monitor attached to his ankle. But even without it, no one expected Louie to go to the trouble of buying gifts. The year before and the year before that both of his ankles had been unburdened and he hadn’t bothered to shop.

Mark, the older son, was home from the horrors of law school, and, though even poorer than his brother, had managed to buy his mother some perfume. He was scheduled to graduate in May, sit for the bar exam in July, and begin working with a D.C. firm in September, which, as it so happened, was the same month Louie’s trial was on the docket. But Louie’s case would not go to trial for two very good reasons. First, the undercover boys had caught him in the act of selling ten bags of crack—there was even a video—and, second, neither Louie nor his mother could afford a decent lawyer to handle the mess. Throughout the holidays, both Louie and Mrs. Frazier dropped hints that Mark should rush in and volunteer to defend his brother. Wouldn’t it be easy to stall matters until later in the year when Mark was properly admitted to the bar—he was practically there anyway—and once he had his license wouldn’t it be a simple matter of finding one of those technicalities you read about to get the charges dismissed?

This little fantasy of theirs had some rather large holes in it, but Mark refused to discuss it. When it became apparent that Louie planned to hog the sofa for at least ten hours on New Year’s Day and watch seven straight bowl games, Mark made a quiet exit and went to a friend’s house. Returning home that night, while driving under the influence, he made the decision to flee. He would return to D.C. and kill some time puttering around the law firm where he would soon be employed. Classes didn’t start for almost two weeks, but after ten days of listening to Louie bitch and moan about his problems, not to mention the nonstop Nutcracker, Mark was fed up and looking forward to his last semester of law school.

He set his alarm for eight the following morning, and over coffee with his mom explained that he was needed back in D.C. Sorry to leave a bit earlier than expected, Mom, and sorry to leave you here all alone with your bad boy, Mom, but I’m outta here. He’s not mine to raise. I got my own problems.

The first problem was his vehicle, a Ford Bronco he’d been driving since high school. The odometer had frozen at 187,000 miles, and that had happened midway through college. It desperately needed a new fuel pump, one of many replacement parts on the Urgent List. Using tape and paper clips, Mark had been able to wire and jerry-rig the engine, transmission, and brakes for the past two years, but he’d had no luck with the fuel pump. It worked but at a lower capacity than normal, so that the Bronco’s max speed was forty-nine on level ground. To avoid being clobbered by 18-wheelers on the expressways, Mark stuck to the back roads of rural Delaware and the Eastern Shore. The two-hour drive from Dover to central D.C. took twice as long.

This gave him even more time to consider his other problems. Number two was his suffocating student debt. He’d finished college with $60,000 in loans, and no job. His father, who seemed happily married at the time but was also in debt, had warned him against further studies. He’d said, “Hell, boy, four years of education and you’re sixty grand in the hole. Quit before it gets any worse.” But Mark thought taking any financial advice from his father was foolish, so he worked a couple of years here and there, bartending and delivering pizza, while he haggled with his lenders. Now, looking back, he wasn’t sure where the idea of law school had originated, but he did remember overhearing a conversation between two frat brothers who were pondering weighty matters while drinking heavily. Mark was the bartender, the lounge was not crowded, and after the fourth round of vodka and cranberry juice they talked loud enough for all to hear. Among many interesting things they had said, Mark had always remembered two: “The big D.C. law firms are hiring like crazy.” And, “Starting salaries are one-fifty a year.”

Not long after that, he bumped into a college friend who was a first-year student at the Foggy Bottom Law School in D.C., and the guy gushed on about his plans to blitz through his studies, finish in two and a half years, and sign on with a big firm for a fat salary. The Feds were throwing loans at students, anybody could qualify, and, well sure, he would graduate with a mountain of debt but nothing he couldn’t wipe out in five years. To his friend, at least, it made perfect sense to “invest in himself” with the debt because it would guarantee all that future earning power.

Mark took the bait and began studying for the Law School Admission Test. His score was an unimpressive 146, but this did not bother the admissions folks at the Foggy Bottom Law School. Nor did his rather thin undergraduate résumé with an anemic grade point average of 2.8. FBLS accepted him with open arms. His loan applications were quickly approved. Sixty-five thousand bucks were simply transferred from the Department of Education each year to Foggy Bottom. And now, with one semester to go, Mark was staring miserably at the reality of graduating with a combined total, undergrad and law school, principal and interest, of $266,000 in debt.

Another problem was his job. As it happened, the market wasn’t quite as strong as rumored. Nor was it as vibrant as FBLS had advertised in its slick brochures and near-fraudulent website. Graduates from top-tier law schools were still finding work at enviable salaries. FBLS, though, was not quite in the top tier. Mark had managed to worm his way into a midsized law firm that specialized in “governmental relations,” which meant nothing more than lobbying. His starting salary had not been established, because the firm’s management committee would meet in early January to review profits from the previous year and supposedly jiggle the pay structure. In a few months, Mark would be expected to have an important talk with his “loan counselor” about restructuring his student debt and somehow repaying the entire mess. This counselor had already expressed concern that Mark did not know how much he would be earning. This concerned Mark too, especially when added to the fact that he didn’t trust a single person he’d met at the law firm. As much as he tried to fool himself, he knew deep in his gut that his position was not secure.

Another problem was the bar exam. Because of demand, the D.C. version of the test was one of the more challenging in the nation, and FBLS grads had been bombing it at an alarming rate. Again, the top schools in town did well. The year before, Georgetown had a 91 percent pass rate. For George Washington it was 89 percent. For FBLS, the pass rate was a pathetic 56 percent. To succeed, Mark needed to start studying now, in early January, and hit the books nonstop for six months.

But the energy simply wasn’t there, especially in the cold, dreary, depressing days of winter. At times the debt felt like cinder blocks strapped to his back. Walking was a chore. Smiling was difficult. He was living in poverty and his future, even with the job, was bleak. And he was one of the fortunate ones. Most of his classmates had the loans but not the jobs. Looking back, he’d heard the grumbling even in his first year, and with each semester the mood at school grew darker, the suspicions heavier. The job market worsened. The bar exam results embarrassed everyone at FBLS. The loans piled up. Now, in his third and last year, it was not unusual to hear students verbally spar with professors in class. The dean wouldn’t come out of his office. Bloggers blistered the school and screamed harsh questions: “Is this a hoax?” “Have we been had?” “Where did all the money go?”

To varying degrees, almost everyone Mark knew believed that (1) FBLS was a subpar law school that (2) made too many promises, and (3) charged too much money, and (4) encouraged too much debt while (5) admitting a lot of mediocre students who really had no business in law school, and (6) were either not properly prepared for the bar exam or (7) too dumb to pass it.

There were rumors that applications to FBLS had fallen by 50 percent. With no state support, and no endowment, such a decline would lead to all manner of painful cost cutting, and a bad law school would only get worse. This was fine with Mark Frazier and his friends. They would endure the next four months and happily leave the place, never to return.
_____________

MARK LIVED IN a five-story apartment building that was eighty years old and visibly deteriorating, but the rent was low and this attracted students from George Washington and FBLS. In its earlier days it had been known as the Cooper House, but after three decades of frat-like wear and tear it had earned its nickname as the Coop. Because its elevators seldom worked, Mark took the stairs to the third floor and entered his cramped and sparsely furnished flat, for which he paid $800 a month for five hundred square feet. For some reason he’d cleaned the place after his last exam before the holidays, and as he flipped on lights he was pleased to see that everything was in order. And why shouldn’t it be? The slumlord who owned the place never came around. He unloaded his bags and was struck by the silence. Normally, with a bunch of students, and with thin walls, there was always a racket. Stereos, televisions, arguments, pranks, poker games, fights, guitar playing, even a trombone played by a nerd on the fourth floor that could rattle the entire building. But not today. Everyone was still at home, enjoying the break, and the halls were eerily quiet.

After half an hour, Mark was bored and left the building. Walking along New Hampshire Avenue, with the wind cutting through his thin fleece and old khakis, he decided, for some reason, to turn onto Twenty-First and stop by the law school to see if it was open. In a city with no shortage of hideous modern buildings, FBLS managed to stand out in its unsightliness. It was a postwar edifice covered with bland yellow bricks on eight levels slung together in asymmetrical wings, some failed architect’s effort at making a statement. Supposedly, it once was an office building, but walls had been knocked out with abandon to create cramped lecture halls on the four lower floors. On the fifth was the library, a rabbits’ warren of large, retrofitted rooms packed with seldom-touched books and some replicated portraits of unknown judges and legal scholars. The faculty had offices on the sixth and seventh floors, and on the eighth, and as far away from the students as possible, the administration carried on, with the dean solidly hidden in a corner office from which he seldom ventured.

The front door was unlocked and Mark entered the empty lobby. While he appreciated its warmth, he found the area, as always, utterly depressing. A huge bulletin board covered one wall with all manner of notices and announcements and enticements. There were a few slick posters advertising opportunities to study abroad, and the usual assortment of handmade ads offering stuff for sale—books, bikes, tickets, course outlines, tutors by the hour—and apartments for rent. The bar exam loomed over the entire school like a dark cloud and there were posters extolling the excellence of some review courses. If he searched hard enough he could possibly find a few employment opportunities, but at FBLS those had become scarcer by the year. In one corner he saw the same old brochures hawking even more student loans. At the far end of the lobby there were vending machines and a small coffee bar, but nothing was being brewed during the break.

He fell into a battered leather chair and soaked in the gloominess of his school. Was it really a school or was it just another diploma mill? The answer was becoming clear. For the thousandth time he wished he had never walked through the front doors as an unsuspecting first-year student. Now, almost three years later, he was burdened by loans he couldn’t imagine paying off. If there was a light at the end of the tunnel, he couldn’t see it.

And why would anyone name a school Foggy Bottom? As if the law school experience itself wasn’t dreary enough,some bright soul had, some twenty years earlier, tagged it with a name that conveyed even more cheerlessness. That guy, now dead, had sold the school to some Wall Street investors who owned a string of law schools that were reportedly producing handsome profits while cranking out little in the way of legal talent.

How do you buy and sell law schools? It was still a mystery.

Mark heard voices and hurriedly left the building. He hiked down New Hampshire to Dupont Circle, where he ducked into Kramer Books for a coffee and a quick thaw. He walked everywhere. His Bronco lurched and stalled too much in city traffic, and he kept it tucked away in a lot behind the Coop, always with the key in the ignition. Unfortunately, so far no one had been tempted to steal it.

Warm again, he hustled six blocks north along Connecticut Avenue. The law firm of Ness Skelton occupied a few floors in a modern building near the Hinckley Hilton. The previous summer Mark had managed to weasel his way inside when he accepted an internship that paid less than minimum wage. At major law firms, the summer programs were used to entice top students to the big life. Little work was expected. The interns were given ridiculously easy schedules, along with tickets to ball games and invitations to fine parties in the splendid backyards of the wealthy partners. Once seduced, they signed on, and upon graduation were soon thrown into the meat grinder of hundred-hour weeks.

Not so at Ness Skelton. With only fifty lawyers, it was far from a top-ten firm. Its clients were trade associations—Soybean Forum, Retired Postal Workers, Beef and Lamb Council, National Asphalt Contractors, Disabled Railroad Engineers—and several defense contractors desperate for their share of the pork. The firm’s expertise, if it had any, was maintaining relationships with Congress. Its summer intern program was designed more to exploit cheap labor than to attract top students. Mark had worked hard and suffered through the stultifying work. At the end of the summer, when he had received an offer that somewhat resembled a position upon passing the bar exam, he couldn’t decide if he should celebrate or cry. Nonetheless, he jumped at what was being offered—there was nothing else on the table—and proudly became one of the few FBLS students with a future. Throughout the fall, he had gently pressed his supervisor about the terms of his upcoming employment but got nowhere. There might be a merger in the works. There might be a split. There might be a lot of things, but an employment contract was not one of them.

So he hung around. Afternoons, Saturdays, holidays, anytime he was bored he would stop by the firm, always with a big fake smile and an eagerness to pitch in and help with the grunt work. It was not clear if this was beneficial, but he figured it couldn’t hurt.

His supervisor was named Randall, a ten-year guy on the verge of making partner, and thus under a lot of pressure. A Ness Skelton associate who didn’t make partner after ten years was quietly shown the door. Randall was a George Washington law grad, which, in the city’s pecking order, was a step down from Georgetown but several notches above Foggy Bottom. The hierarchy was clear and rigid, and its worst perpetrators were the GW lawyers. They detested being looked down upon by the Georgetown gang; thus they were eager to look down with even more disdain on anyone from FBLS. The entire firm reeked of cliques and snobbery, and Mark often wondered how in hell he wound up there. Two associates were from FBLS, but they were so busy trying to distance themselves from their school they had no time to lend Mark a hand. Indeed, they seemed to ignore him more than anyone else. Mark had often mumbled, “What a way to run a law firm.” But then he figured that every profession had its levels of status. He was far too worried about his own skin to fret over where the other cutthroats had studied law. He had his own problems.

He had e-mailed Randall and said he would be dropping by to do whatever grunt work was available. Randall greeted him with a curt “Back so soon?”

Sure, Randall, and how were your holidays? Great to see you. “Yeah, got bored with all the holiday crap. What’s up?”

“Two of the secretaries are out with the flu,” Randall said. He pointed to a stack of documents a foot thick. “I need that copied fourteen times, all collated and stapled.”

Okay, back to the copy room, Mark thought. “Sure,” he said as if he couldn’t wait to jump in. He hauled the documents down to the basement, to a dungeon filled with copiers. He spent the next three hours doing mindless work for which he would be paid nothing.

He almost missed Louie and his ankle monitor.

….

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