Read The Golden Scales for Free Online Page A

DreemTeem is one of the most popular commercial football teams in the region, and also one of the most successful. The fan base is not limited to this country. We have sponsors all over the Middle East.’
    ‘So, losing Adil would damage your image?’
    ‘Not just our image. Our business depends on investors. Of course,’ Gaber cleared his throat, ‘that’s not the main reason we are concerned about Adil’s welfare.’
    ‘Of course not,’ said Makana. ‘I take it there has been no indication of kidnapping, no ransom demand?’
    ‘Nothing of the kind.’
    ‘No threats?’
    ‘Not that we know of.’ Gaber was adamant.
    ‘Will you find my boy for me?’
    Makana’s attention was drawn back towards the window where Hanafi stood, his face crumpled as if he was in great pain.
    ‘We haven’t talked about a fee.’
    ‘A lot of people would help me for nothing,’ grunted Hanafi, returning to his usual self as he approached the desk. Those malevolent little eyes fixed themselves on Makana as he settled himself down again, reaching into a drawer for a pen and paper. It was a plump, gold-plated fountain pen. The kind you might write big cheques with.
    ‘I am going to write a number on this piece of paper. For every week that it takes you to find Adil, I shall cut it in half.’ He handed over the paper and Makana looked at the number.
    ‘People must love working for you.’
    ‘Motivation is easy to buy, Mr Makana, loyalty is another matter.’
    Makana got to his feet. ‘Excuse me, I’m getting poorer by the minute.’
    As he seized his hand in a firm grip, Hanafi reached out for Makana’s shoulder and pulled him in towards him. He had surprising strength for a man of his age. Makana found himself unable to ease away. The scent of Hanafi’s hair oil was filling his nostrils; he could see the swollen blood vessels in his eyes, and then, as the grip relented, Makana saw the shadow of something else cross the older man’s face. He struggled to work out what it was.
    ‘Someone is trying to get to me through the boy,’ Hanafi whispered, staring off into the distance. ‘But the man hasn’t been born yet who can scare Saad Hanafi. I will find them and I will crush them like insects.’ Letting go of Makana’s hand abruptly, he turned back towards the window again.
    ‘Gaber will give you everything you need.’ He held up a stubby finger. ‘Do right by me, Makana, and your life will change for ever . . . for the better.’
    As they walked back across the white marble clouds Gaber handed Makana a large brown envelope.
    ‘This contains all the necessary details you will need. Addresses, telephone numbers, etcetera. There is also a letter of introduction, signed by me, which gives you access to any level of the company’s operations. It suggests that you have been hired to write a biography of Adil. If anyone gives you any trouble, ask them to call me.’
    ‘A biography? Who came up with that idea?’
    ‘I did.’
    Just then Makana’s eye was caught by the reflection of light on the ceiling. It drew his attention to the pool in the centre of the terrace. A girl in her twenties, whom he guessed to be one of Hanafi’s daughters, was swimming lengths. She was a good strong swimmer. He watched her climb out of the water on the other side and disappear between the rows of sphinxes. He turned back to find Gaber waiting for him by another lift.
    ‘Is that one of the daughters or the latest wife?’
    ‘That is Soraya, Mr Hanafi’s only daughter from his second wife.’ Gaber sighed. ‘Do not allow yourself to become distracted, Makana. Mr Hanafi was not joking when he said that your life could change. If you are successful then it is quite possible we could find you a permanent position in the security department of Hanafi Enterprises. He believes in rewarding people who are dedicated and hard-working. You would never have to worry about money again.’
    ‘How long have you been with him?’ asked Makana.
    ‘A very