Dr Suresh Jha, retired mathematician and founder of DIRE (the Delhi Institute for Rationalism and Education), also known as the Guru Buster, has been stabbed with a disappearing knife by the goddess Kali whilst partaking of his morning exercise with the Rajpath Laughing Club. A French tourist has even captured it all on his phone.
Jha had recently insulted Maharaj Swami on national TV, and been told to await a miracle by the Swami. He’d also received a threatening letter the day before. Thus many believe it’s the Swami who has conjured this. Of course, Puri is convinced it’s all a trick of some sort and, having previously helped Jha to debunk the acts of various charlatans, will do his utmost to find a logical explanation.
Meanwhile, Vish’s Mummy-ji has joined her daughter-in-law, Rumpi’s kitty club and is incensed when the ladies are robbed at gunpoint during her first meeting. She’s determined to find the thieves, and is dragging a very reluctant Rumpi into the investigation, while staying under Puri’s radar: he would surely object. The police aren’t interested in the fingerprints and samples of the gunman’s DNA she cleverly obtained during the incident, but a few little things indicate to her that it’s an inside job.
Discovering just how it was done involves Puri visiting several of India’s greatest magicians, but to learn the truth he needs to infiltrate Maharaj Swami’s ashram, where Facecream, posing as his rebellious daughter, may find answers.
This instalment has quite a few twists, and before Puri identifies the culprit, he suffers a blow to the head, has to intervene when his brother-in-law heads for a bad investment, and has to grudgingly admit to being fooled by a clever bluff. Does he ever find out just what Mummy-ji and Rumpi got up to?
Hall’s protagonist does like to eat: “The idea that Vish Puri could resist getting involved in such a tantalising murder was preposterous. There was as much chance of him going without his lunch”. The mention of all the dishes he consumes is bound to stimulate the reader’s own appetite. At the end of the book there’s a handy glossary of Indian terms, and the dialogue is authentic and entertaining. The Case of the Deadly Butter Chicken is eagerly awaited.