A Mystery Unfolds: The Search for the Missing Niece and a Mummy

Gul was enjoying a peaceful dream about her niece, Mahnaz, when her sleep was interrupted by an unexpected phone call. She blinked in confusion, reaching for the buzzing device on her bedside table. “Mahnaz?” she mumbled, hoping it was her voice soothing her anxious heart.

“Is this Gulfsa Delani?” a man said, his voice crackling through the line.

“Yes, who is this?” Gul asked, her heart racing. It was 3:06 a.m., far too early for casual conversation.

“I’m Deputy Superintendent Farhan Akthar from the Jackson Police Station in Keamari. I apologize for calling so late, Madam,” he continued.

Gul felt her heart drop. “You’ve found her?” she asked, gripping the phone tightly, fearing what might follow.

“Yes. But we aren’t sure to whom she belongs. How long has she been missing?” he inquired.

“It’s been three years… Is she alive?” Gul’s voice was shaky.

There was a brief pause. “I cannot imagine why you would ask such a question, Madam.”

Gul took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions swirling inside her. “Surely, that’s the only question that matters right now, Deputy Superintendent. You said you found my niece?”

The man coughed, sounding uncomfortable. “I’m afraid I don’t know anything about your niece. That’s not why I’m calling.”

“What?” Gul felt the tightness in her throat deepen. “Why are you calling?”

“We made a discovery earlier tonight during a narcotics investigation. We need your expertise. Can you meet me?” DSP Akthar said.

Gul swung her legs over the bed and switched on her bedside lamp, trying to shake off the fog of sleep. “Deputy Superintendent…”

“Akthar, Madam. DSP Akthar.”

“DSP Akthar. I think you have made a mistake. I’m not a narcotics expert,” she said, confusion flooding her mind.

“I know that, Madam,” he replied.

“I’m a museum curator. I work at the Heritage and History Museum,” she explained.

“Yes,” DSP Akthar affirmed, and Gul could almost hear his keenness through the line.

“I’ve been excavating a Sassanian fort in the Indus Delta, so unless your narcotics are hidden in the mangrove swamps, I don’t see how I can help.”

“I’m aware of your work.”

“Then I really don’t understand,” Gul said, feeling a mix of frustration and disappointment. Her chance to hear about Mahnaz had slipped through her fingers.

“It’s complicated to explain over the phone,” he said, his voice sharper now as if he was barking orders in the background. “Please confirm your address. One of my men will escort you. It’s a long drive, so bring anything you may need.”

She rubbed her forehead, trying to suppress the growing headache. “You’re in Keamari, right? I live on Bath Island. It’s about 20-25 minutes from here.”

“I’m not calling from Keamari, Madam. Just bring what you need. This discovery is unique.”

Gul felt a rush of curiosity amid her disappointment. She had to push her worry about Mahnaz aside for now. “Fine. I’ll be ready,” she said, expressing a determination she barely felt.

The anticipation swept over her, and she quickly jumped into the shower and dressed. Dressed in a simple olive shalwar kameez and a matching dupatta, she felt a little more put together. She quickly brewed a cup of tea, gathering her archaeology tools — picks, trowels, ropes, and her trusty laptop — though the reason for her visit was still shrouded in mystery.

By the time the police jeep arrived, Gul was fully prepared. Wrapping her scarf around her, she stepped outside, a little self-conscious about her neighbors seeing the police vehicle. Mr. Dada, her long-time neighbor, would surely complain about the disturbance.

“Another late-night excavation?” he might scold, as though her work was a scandal. But Gul had learned to take such comments in stride, often meeting his annoyance with a playful retort.

Climbing into the jeep, she felt a surge of adrenaline. The driver turned the siren on as they sped through the shimmering streets of Karachi. Each passing moment felt both thrilling and nerve-racking.

“May it not be Mahnaz,” she prayed silently, invoking every deity she could think of. A small glimmer of hope fought against the sadness that had taxed her for years.

As they drove toward the unknown, Gul reminded herself that this could be a significant archaeological find. Whatever it was, it better be worth her night’s disruption.

She was determined. Despite the dark clouds of concern, the glimmer of professional curiosity began to shine through.

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