Dear Mr. Agarwal:

It’s been a hell of a thing trying to reach you. Sure, you’re a busy guy, constantly tickling the palates of your lucky customers with the best tikka masala in the Southwest. But you’ve made your business my business by endangering my client...

I understand your after-hours furniture “showroom” had a recent visit from the Five-0, but let’s reconsider pulling Raj into your little scuffle. Hasn’t he been serving lamb kormas and chanas to your happy patrons the past few months like a champ? Listing him as one of your “business associates” in whatever arrangement you’re making with Big Brother means no naan for anyone while you’re away. Looks like you and I are both a couple of regular Monty Halls, so step right up to Door Number Two and “Let’s Make a Deal!”

We’ve all learned things the hard way. Such as this, Mr. Agarwal: If someone were impeding the career of one of his employees for the purpose of compelling that person to do something against their will, that would be extortion. So let’s peek around that door, shall we? If Raj tells the judge that you made him choose between “moving” furniture with you and losing his job, Poor Raj was trapped! What do we have there? Ding, ding, ding! That’s right… extortion!

But before we conclude our business, you’ve got to tell me who your craftsman is, because I haven’t seen a credenza with so much spirit since I peeked in the window at that rustic furniture shop on Menaul. Nice family, been a bumpy going for them. Your piece would fit right in with their aromatic cedar collection, if only it hadn’t disappeared after a recent break-in.

So, whaddaya say? You forget about Raj, and voila, suddenly he and I can’t tell a credenza from a lampshade! And if you need a rock-solid lawyer as trusty as your grandma’s recipes to help you navigate this crazy legal menu you’re facing… call me.

Yours in everlasting curry,

Saul Goodman