-8.6°C Not observed 
LAHORE, Pakistan - In a tiny room overlooking a slum, four men work a dozen or so phones, struggling to keep up with calls from Pakistanis placing illegal bets on a cricket match in England.
Some phones are rigged to tape-recorders to ensure that gamblers do not renege on their wagers later on.
The men are small-time gangsters, but sit on the lower rungs of something much larger: an underworld betting industry that spans the cricket world and has been implicated in a match-fixing scandal engulfing Pakistan's national team.
While there is little by way of evidence, these Lahore bookmakers and others close to the trade say notorious Indian crime lord Dawood Ibrahim sits atop the global syndicate. The United States accuses Ibrahim of supporting al-Qaida and funding attacks in India.
The bookmakers said fixing in the sport, especially in the Pakistani team, had been common for years.
Such is the variety of bets available on every aspect of the game — not just the outcome — a player can perform to order and not necessarily affect the result. Knowing what will happen in any match can be extremely valuable information to gamblers and bookies.
"Almost each match is fixed in some department," said one of the bookies, who asked to be identified only as "PK." He added, however, that neither he nor his customers was aware of this information, suggesting scams on that scale went far higher up the syndicate.
"It goes right to the top," he said.
Business was brisk Tuesday night, when Pakistan's disastrous tour of England hit a new low as Shahid Afridi's depleted lineup was bowled out for 89 — its worst total ever in a Twenty20 international — and ultimately lost by six wickets.
Test captain Salman Butt and bowlers Mohammad Asif and Mohammad Amir were suspended by the International Cricket Council last week for allegedly being involved in "spot fixing" after a British tabloid newspaper sting uncovered evidence that some players were being secretly paid to deliver no-balls at set times.
An Associated Press reporting crew was given a rare invitation by the bookmakers to see them at work for Tuesday's match.
PK and his fellow bookie, "Amer," insisted that their real names not be used or their faces photographed or filmed because their work is illegal.
And this is despite warnings of a crackdown on illegal gambling by Pakistani authorities and the International Cricket Council.
The News of the World newspaper reports of spot fixing are being investigated by British police and the ICC's anti-corruption unit, which was established in 2000 when the sport's reputation was in tatters after revelations the former captains of South Africa, India and Pakistan had been involved in match-fixing.
The latest scandal has led to national shame in Pakistan, where the fortunes of the team had provided something positive amid terrorist attacks and this summer's devastating floods.
Betting is illegal in this conservative Islamic country and in neighbouring India. But as in prohibition-era America, a vast industry has risen to cater for the millions who like to gamble. The amounts of money involved dwarf the sums wagered on cricket in countries such as England and Australia, where betting is legal.
PK and Amer claim that millions of dollars are spent each year in payoffs to corrupt police and government officials so that the illegal gambling can continue. The pair said they had been raided once in 18 years — a bribe got them out of jail — and that they were unconcerned about talk of a crackdown.
The immense size of the industry in South Asia can be gauged by the pair's takings.
They said they each took between US$20,000 and $30,000 dollars on a typical Twenty20 match from gamblers living in Lahore, a city of eight million people. The pair estimated there were around 1,000 other bookmakers of a similar size in the city.
William Hill, one of the largest gambling houses in Britain, said it took around $120,000 on the first Twenty20 match between England and Pakistan on Sunday. It said that was more than normal, likely because the scandal had attracted publicity.
In Lahore, PK dresses in the baggy shirt and pajama trousers that are worn by most men in Pakistan. Only his red eyes, the result of a hashish habit and hours sitting on the floor late into the night taking bets, and the ringtone on his phone give some hint to his background.
"It's business, but it's a bad business," the recording of a Bollywood singer croons each time someone calls in a bet.
The pair work from the second-floor of a house that is at the end of alley in a poor part of town, known for prostitution and crime. Neighbouring buildings are home to shoe and garment factories operating out of single rooms and cramped boarding houses.
There is no furniture, except for two cushions, and the phones are strewn across a carpet emblazoned with red roses.
A new flat-screen TV and sound system is fixed to the wall. A man with a long beard, nicknamed "Osama bin Laden" by PK and his crew, operates the computer for $25 per night — a large sum in a country where many people earn less than $100 a month.
He sits cross-legged in front of a website offering ball-by-ball odds on the game. Another two people are employed to help take down bets.
The phones started ringing an hour before the match started. They only stopped when it became clear England was destined to win and the bookies closed shop.
Winnings and losses are squared a day or two after each match. It's all cash transactions. Gamblers either send somebody to pick up winnings, or the bookies send an intermediary to collect.
"It all depends on trust. We know the people and recognize their voice," said Amer. "But if they don't pay then we well we find them and they get clubbed," he says as he stabs his finger into a large calculator and jots down a wager in a well-thumbed ledger.
PK and Amer each make around $800 a night. The rest of the profits go to the syndicate. Their books are open for every international cricket match as well as the domestic leagues in India and England.
The odds are continuously squawked into the room via speaker phone from a man in Karachi, changing with every twist and turn of the game. PK said the odds were set by the syndicate in London, then relayed by telephone to Dubai, then Mumbai — all three cities are alleged to be major cities in the gambling underworld — before Karachi and then the rest of Pakistan.
Allegations that Dawood Ibrahim controls the betting trade have swirled around for years, though as with everything regarding the man, it is hard to be sure where facts end and rumour begins. Indian officials allege he is living in Pakistan under the protection of that country's security agencies.
PK and another bookmaker who asked not to be named said Ibrahim was involved, but declined to answer when asked how they knew. In 2003, the U.S. Treasury Department froze Ibrahim's assets, saying they were "targeting ties between the criminal underworld and al-Qaida."
When the match is over, the bookies quickly tally their takings and tidy away the phones. "Osama," the Internet operator, finds Shakira's "Waka Waka" on YouTube and plays it through the loudspeakers. PK takes a small lump of hash from a fold in his trousers and tosses it to someone to roll a cigarette.
With India's domestic competition due to start soon, the gang is in for some late nights.
"We are going to be too busy," said Amer with a smile.
A former gambler himself, PK talks about how he got into the business.
"I lost so much money doing it myself I decided I had to get my money back somehow," he said.
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Associated Press writers Ashraf Khan in Karachi, Pakistan and Ashok Sharma in New Delhi contributed to this report.
