The Mysterious Case of Lali
"Oh my! Where did my Lali go?"
The moment Amma Nooran stepped out of her room into the mud-floored courtyard, she jumped in shock. Bali, Kali, and Chaudhry were happily pecking at their grain, but Lali was nowhere to be seen. She looked around frantically, but Lali was gone. Distraught, she held her head in her hands and sat down on the charpai (string bed).
Some time ago, two of her chickens had disappeared as well. She had searched everywhere for them, but they were never found. The thief was highly clever, leaving absolutely no clues behind. Amma Nooran was particularly fond of Lali—perhaps because she laid eggs that were much larger than the other chickens, and she was exceptionally beautiful.
Amma Nooran lived alone. Her husband had passed away a long time ago, and having no children of her own, she loved her chickens like her own offspring.
"I will not sit idly this time. I will find my Lali at all costs," she vowed. "Whoever has stolen her from my courtyard will face the music! Oh Allah, please help me." Wiping tears from her eyes and adjusting her shawl, she walked out of the house.
"Amma! Where are you going, and why are there tears in your eyes? Is everything alright?"
It was Ashraf, the owner of the local grocery store. Only a single road separated Amma Nooran’s house from his shop.
"Ashraf Mian, what can I say? Another one of my chickens has been stolen today. You know better than anyone how dear Lali was to me."
"Oh, that is terrible news," Ashraf said sympathetically. "Lali was indeed a very beautiful and lovely hen. I liked her so much that I wanted to buy her from you, but you wouldn’t part with her."
"I have no children, Ashraf. I cherish these chickens as my own. But there is some cruel soul out there who keeps stealing my children. This time, however, I am determined to expose the thief, Insha'Allah."
"You tried very hard last time too, but you couldn't catch the thief," Ashraf replied with a slight smile on his face. "This time, hand over this task to them."
"To whom are you referring, Ashraf Mian?"
"Those three friends... Mani, Shani, and Dani."
"Who are they?" she asked in surprise.
"They are three clever boys. Their names have been popping up lately. They solve small problems for people in the neighborhood. They live in Counselor Wali Gali (the Counselor’s lane) and are very sensible and sharp."
"I see... when can I meet them?"
"They are at the madrasa in the morning, but you can find them right now. You should definitely go see them. Everything will turn out fine, Insha'Allah."
"Alright, I will go to them. Thank you so much, Ashraf Mian," she said, making her way toward the Counselor's lane.
"Have you read this novel by Uncle Ishtiaq Ahmed?" Mani asked, holding up a book.
"Which one?" Dani inquired eagerly.
"Ray Rata," Mani replied.
"Yes, I’ve read it! Who could possibly write like Uncle? I am a huge fan of his. I’ve learned so many wonderful things from his novels," Dani said.
"Spying and detective work too, I suppose..." Mani laughed.
"Yes! And we've built this office following the style of the Shoki Brothers. They were legendary and solved massive cases, whereas we are small-time and can only solve small cases, by the grace of Allah," Dani smiled.
Shani chimed in, "Brother, helping people in our free time is something we learned from them."
"May Allah Almighty grant Uncle Ishtiaq Ahmed an exalted place in Jannat al-Firdous (Paradise)."
"Ameen," all three uttered in unison.
"Ameen..."
Startled by a fourth voice, they snapped their heads toward the outer door of the drawing room. An elderly woman was standing in the doorway.
"Children, may I come in?"
They looked at one another and then spoke together, "Please come in, Amma Ji!"
As she sat down on an empty chair, Shani asked, "Amma Ji, is everything okay? We haven't seen you around here before. Where are you from, and how can we help you?"
Dani glared at Shani, his eyes saying: For God's sake, so many questions in a single breath!
Turning to the old woman with a smile, Dani asked, "Amma Ji, would you like some water?"
"No, son, I am not thirsty," she said, observing them intently.
"Amma Ji, what's the matter? Why are you looking at us like that... did we do something wrong?" Shani asked, scratching his head.
"People call me Amma Nooran. My Lali has been stolen," she blurted out.
The three boys jumped up in shock. "What do you mean?! Your daughter, Lali, has been stolen?!"
"Lali is not my daughter; she is my hen. Bali, Kali, Lali, and Chaudhry were all pecking at grain in the courtyard. Someone stole Lali. Can you help me?" Amma Nooran pleaded.
"How can you be so sure someone stole her? She could have wandered into a neighbor’s house. Usually, chickens wander off into neighboring yards—some come back, and some end up in the neighbors' stomachs," Dani said with a smirk.
"My neighbors are very good people; I have never had a complaint against them. Boys, my chickens never leave the house. My courtyard is large and spacious, and they roam there all day. Besides, I take full care of their feeding. Today, I was busy with some chores inside the room for a few hours. When I came out, Lali was gone."
"Has any of your chickens been stolen before this?" Mani asked.
"Yes, two chickens were stolen before this as well. Ashraf told me that you boys help people out," Amma Nooran said.
"That is true, Amma Ji. We try our best to be of service. Go home and don't worry. We will speak to a few people and be over to your house shortly."
"Alright," Amma Nooran said, standing up to leave.
An hour later, the boys arrived outside Amma Nooran’s house. A small crowd of children and adults had gathered there. At the shop across the street, Ashraf was pulling a juice box out of the deep freezer to hand to a well-built customer. Amma Nooran looked at Mani, Shani, and Dani with anxious eyes, as if asking, What is all this about?
"As you all know, Amma Nooran's hen, Lali, was stolen today. Her chickens have been stolen before too and were never found. But today, we have caught the thief," Dani announced with a confident smile.
Amma Nooran gasped, "You caught the thief? Where is he?!"
Everyone’s eyes locked onto Dani. Ashraf turned his full attention toward them, and the customer buying the juice paused in his tracks, looking at the crowd with utter bewilderment.
"What do you mean? Have you really caught Lali's thief?" a young boy asked loudly.
"Yes! The thief is present right here among us," Dani declared. Hearing this, people began looking suspiciously at one another. Amma Nooran’s face was a picture of pure astonishment.
Dani continued, "We met a few people and asked some questions. Eventually, we found proof of the theft at a particular spot. The funny thing is, the thief wasn't there at the time, so he didn't see us."
"Proof of the theft? Who is the thief? Why don't you just tell us!" an elderly man grumbled impatiently.
"Amma Nooran's Lali was stolen by this gentleman," Dani said, pointing directly at the customer standing next to Ashraf.
"Hey, that's Gama the butcher! Amma Nooran's neighbor!" someone in the crowd shouted.
"This is nonsense! Who even is this kid?!" the butcher yelled defensively.
Nobody else spoke. Everyone stared at the butcher in shock. The color had completely drained from his face, and sudden panic took over his expressions.
"You mentioned some proof. Where is the evidence based on which you are calling Gama a thief?" Amma Nooran asked, completely bewildered. To her, Gama the butcher was a decent man who occasionally sent cooked curry over to her house.
"Gama Bhai, what kind of chicken meat do you usually sell?" Dani asked, addressing the butcher directly.
"He sells broiler chicken meat, we all know that," Amma Nooran spoke up quickly. A sudden, smug smile appeared on the butcher’s face.
"Does he never sell desi (organic/local) chicken meat?" Dani pressed.
"Son, Amma Nooran is right! I sell commercial broiler chicken, not desi chicken. Lali was a desi hen, not a broiler!" the butcher argued loudly.
"You said Lali was a desi hen... why did you use the past tense? Is she no longer alive?" Dani smiled coldly.
"Gama the butcher stole Amma Nooran’s Lali, slaughtered her, and sold the meat to the neighborhood Counselor. If you don't believe me, go check—desi chicken is being cooked at his house today."
"What kind of logic is that? Anyone can cook desi chicken," a man in the crowd scoffed.
"In this era of broiler chickens, not everyone cooks desi chicken on a random day. But wait! Here comes the Counselor himself. He will tell you whether he bought desi chicken meat from Gama or not. My friend called and invited him here."
Everyone turned their heads. The neighborhood Counselor was indeed walking toward them. Hearing this, Gama the butcher turned pale as a ghost. He tried to bolt, but Ashraf quickly grabbed him firmly by the arm.
"Where do you think you're running off to, Gama Ji?" Ashraf muttered.
"Amma Nooran, here is Lali's head, which we found near his chopping block," Dani explained. "You will be surprised to know that the stray cats and dogs hovering around butcher blocks love to eat the heads of broiler chickens, but they sniff and leave desi chicken heads untouched. Perhaps because this is the era of broilers, and everyone prefers them—even cats and dogs! That is why local Lali's local head was left abandoned near the block. We took photos of the chopping block and the head underneath it to show you as proof."
As soon as Dani finished speaking, Mani pulled out Lali's head wrapped in paper and held it up for the crowd to see. With his other hand, he showed the photos on his mobile phone.
Seeing the evidence, Gama the butcher lowered his head in shame. Tears welled up silently in Amma Nooran’s eyes...
