In Cheryl Benard’s Moghul Buffet (Soho), which takes place in Pakistan, we get murders, mistaken identity, cryptic messages and a likable police detective—all the requirements of a good mystery. And it’s funny too. The story starts in Peshawar, where a naive American businessman is supposed to be making a deal, but instead he disappears. Iqbal, the police detective, is brought in from the big city to investigate and his semi-traditional wife Gul and their outspoken friend Lilly come along for the ride. After several murders, we meet a Muslim TV evangelist, a beautiful young prostitute who is just trying to make enough money to get out of town, a ten-year-old refugee boy who befriends the American businessman, and, of course, a mysterious woman in a green chador. The narrator of Moghul Buffet moves seamlessly in and out of heads and hearts and even into the world of Pakistani politics and along the way the reader gets a glimpse of women’s lives in Pakistan, a country that Cheryl Benard obviously loves even while it drives her crazy.