“Labor.  As in jobs.  Assets and revenues can easily be manipulated and hidden.  Jobs, not so much.  If his wealth came from these businesses and you want to know when, one way might be to find out how many people were employed by those companies at any given time, and more importantly, how quickly the number of employees grew or shrank.”

Mona smiled.  “Omar, that’s brilliant.”

“I wouldn’t say brilliant.  It’s not a perfect indicator, and labor always lags revenue, but it should give you a decent idea of the trajectory of how fast Saad’s money grew.  Any chance you know someone in the Ministry of Labor?”

***

Two hours later, in downtown Cairo, Omar Maher opened the door and stepped out of a small conference room.  Tall and lean, in his late twenties, he straightened his suit and headed down a bright, clean hallway, stopping briefly to look for a colleague before continuing on when he found the person’s office empty.

Reaching his own office, he pushed the door open and casually strode in, suddenly jumping at the sight of someone sitting quietly inside.

“Subhanallah!  What are you doing here?”

Mona Baraka giggled as she stood up. “Sorry.  I wasn’t trying to scare you.  Makes me wonder what you were up to in that meeting, though.”

“Funny.”  He removed his suit jacket and whirled it around the back of his desk chair.  “To what do I owe this surprise?”

Still grinning, she watched as he reached into his top desk drawer and withdrew a single cigarette.  He lit it with a match and lowered himself onto the desk’s front edge.  “I have a favor to ask.”

“What a surprise,” he said, blowing out a stream of smoke.

She stood watching him, her long black hair pulled back into a bun.  Her dress was conservative and straightforward but unable to completely hide her figure.

The truth was that Omar liked her, and had for a long time—enough to have his mother approach Mona’s parents about a courtship.  But the relationship had been short-lived.  Mona cared for him but ultimately decided she wasn’t ready for marriage, leaving the two as friends and growing closer.

Omar remained hopeful.

“So, what’s the favor?” he asked.

“First, I actually do know someone in the Labor Ministry.  My sister-in-law.  I called her on the way here, and she’s going to try to track down headcounts for those companies during the 60s and 70s.”

“Great.”

“I also thought maybe I could track down some of the actual employees.”

“Good idea.”

“See if any of them knew of or had met Saad.”

“Makes sense.”

“Maybe they know something.”

Omar paused, staring at her curiously through the rising smoke, studying her.  “You’re stalling.”

“What?”

“I said, you’re stalling.”

“What do you mean?”

His eyes narrowed.  “Now you’re stalling while stalling.”