Pizza 911 by Donald J. Hauka

Author:Donald J. Hauka
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dundurn Press
Published: 2015-05-22T00:00:00+00:00

The gauntlet of hostiles outside Mr. Puri’s shop this evening included Probir and his mates. There were no good-natured jokes about franchises and shares, just cold disdain as Jinnah approached. Probir turned up his ghetto-blaster, blaring bhangra music at top volume to drown out any possible conversation. Jinnah had simply pushed past them and into the store. He found Puri at his table at the back, but this time there was no hot, steaming cup of chai upon it. Instead, there was a small, curious aluminum case that Jinnah’s inherent instincts took an instant dislike to. Puri looked grave on the surface, but there was a twinkle in his eyes that suggested no small part of him was enjoying this — whatever “this” was.

“Mr. Puri, namaste,” Jinnah salaamed. “You spoke of vital business?”

Puri handed Jinnah a printed email. It was from Kabir Shah’s cousin Mohammed.

“As you can see, Mr. Jinnah, Kabir’s final wish was to be buried in Tanzania.”

Jinnah didn’t like where this was going. But his inherent instincts were tingling — a sure sign that, however unlikely it might appear at the moment, he was on the right track.

“I am sure his family has the capacity to fulfill his wish, Mr. Puri,” he replied, stalling.

“That is true. But as a Muslim, you know that the deceased must be interned as soon as possible. Fortunately, both the police and the airlines are very understanding in these cases.”

Puri patted the aluminum case gently. Name of God, he can’t mean it.… Jinnah gave in and asked the question that his instincts demanded and his greed dreaded.

“Mr. Puri, did Kabir Shah’s business in Tanzania have anything to do with his murder?”

“Who knows?” Puri sighed. “There is only one way to find out. The family will be happy to meet with you personally should you choose to call upon them on your way to Kenya.”

Jinnah’s self-interest genes were on red alert.

“On my way? Tanzania is not exactly on the way to Nairobi, Mr. Puri. Besides, surely the police should interview Mr. Shah’s family.”

“Ah, but they already have their murderer, do they not?”

There was an awkward pause. Jinnah’s flight-or-flight instincts were debating among themselves, paralyzing him. In the interval, Puri simply picked up the case and handed it to him.

“It is but a small detour. Kabir won’t mind.”

Jinnah goggled at the case he was holding, trying desperately to block the image of what it contained from his mind’s eye — and failing miserably.

“But Mr. Puri — I couldn’t —”

“Do not worry, Jinnah,” said Puri, smiling openly now. “All has been arranged. It is, as you would say, a small sacrifice.”

Jinnah closed his eyes and did a quick calculation. The old proverb said bad things happened in threes. By his count, this day alone had already brought six and it wasn’t over yet. Jinnah muttered his thanks to Mr. Puri and left before a new set came around and unlucky number seven could catch him.

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