“She said Saad’s foundation is privatized and well run,” said Mona.  “And that UNICEF has its hands full and has no time to spend on Saad’s affairs.”

“She called him Beih Saad,” added Omar.

He thought he caught a hint of disgust in the woman’s eyes.   “They all do.”

“Do you know something?” asked Mona.

There was a pause as the woman contemplated from the back seat before she finally answered.  “Several of us do.  More than anyone is willing to say.”

“Like what?”

The woman eyed them both.  “Tell me who you are first.”

“My name is Mona Baraka.  I’m a journalist here in Cairo.  He is Omar Maher, a financial analyst.  And my fiancé.”

“Why are you asking about Saad?”

“I was given information by someone before he passed indicating Mido Saad may be involved in something odious.”

The woman snickered.  “That’s an understatement.  How much do you know about him?”

“Not much.  We have financial records for some of his old companies.  Employment information.  Pictures…”

“You have enough, then to know something is not right.  And enough for Saad to know about you.”

“What does that mean?”

The woman lowered her voice.  “He has ears everywhere.  Even in UNICEF.  If he did not know who you were before, he will soon.”

“From Darwish?”

“Yes, from Darwish!  Do you really believe an organization as large and powerful as UNICEF doesn’t know about Saad?”

Mona angled her eyes toward Omar and mouthed the words: I told you.

“Saad is not who you think he is,” the woman continued.  “He remains in the shadows using things like bribery and coercion.  Even murder.”

“What?!”

“I have worked for UNICEF for eight years.  Long enough to see two others make the mistake of trying to find out more about him.  They dug too deeply into his businesses and his past.”

“What happened?”

“They disappeared,” she said.  “Never seen again by their friends or their family.”

“For investigating Saad?”

“For digging too deep!  Deep enough to draw Saad’s attention.  Like the shaitan.”

Omar and Mona glanced at each other.  Islamic demons.

“Did they tell you what they found?”

The woman didn’t answer.  Instead, she peered forward in a momentary trance.  “It cannot go on,” she breathed.  “It must end.  It must all end.”

“What must end?”

“What he is doing.  What Saad is doing.”

“What?  What is he doing?”

The woman continued blankly staring.  “Saad is a master of deceit, of deception and falsehood.  He portrays himself as a patron of Allah while secretly praying on the weak and fearful, both in children and adults.”

Using her peripheral vision, Mona tried to study the woman.  “Everything we’ve read about Saad says he is a philanthropist and gives most of his money to help children.”