The Complete Adventures of Feluda: Volume II

by Satyajit Ray

  ‘Very well, there is no need to take any decision right now,’ said Feluda. ‘We’ve got nearly twenty-four hours to work things out. I have a few things to do tomorrow, but I’ll come to your house in the afternoon around two o’clock and tell you what to do next. But you must get the money somehow. That is very important.’ He put the phone down.

  ‘Er . . . didn’t the note say something about not informing a detective?’ Lalmohan Babu asked immediately.

  ‘Yes, so it did,’ Feluda replied briefly.

  Things had suddenly started to move like a speeding rocket. Twenty thousand rupees was a lot of money, but what could the Sens do but pay up?

  After five minutes of complete silence, Feluda spoke again. ‘Lalmohan Babu, could I use your car tomorrow?’

  ‘Of course, any time. When do you want it?’

  ‘Say around half past nine in the morning? I need to go out. I don’t think I’ll take more than a couple of hours to finish my work. Then I’ll send your car back, but could you please return at five o’clock?’

  ‘Very well.’

  Feluda lapsed into silence after this.

  True to his word, Lalmohan Babu sent his car at half past nine the following morning. Feluda went out alone, so I couldn’t tell where he went or what he did. But I did notice that when he returned at twelve o’clock, the expression on his face had changed totally.

  ‘What are you planning to do, Feluda?’ I asked hesitantly. ‘Well, I think the ransom must be paid. But we’ve got to ignore the threat about going to a detective.’

  ‘What does that mean? Are you going to be present when they come to collect the money?’

  ‘Felu Mitter does not panic so easily.’

  ‘And what about us?’

  ‘You two will also have to be there, in case I need your help.’

  I stared. What on earth had he decided to do?

  We left for Palm Avenue straight after lunch. Ambuj Sen was waiting for us.

  ‘I couldn’t sleep a wink last night, Mr Mitter,’ he said anxiously as we stepped in. ‘Who knew this would happen?’

  ‘I am afraid you are going to have to pay the entire amount,’ Feluda replied solemnly, ‘there is no other way to get your brother back.’

  ‘Haven’t you worked things out yet?’ Runa asked suddenly, emerging out of a door.

  ‘Yes, Runa. I have solved most of it, and I hope to clear up this evening what little remains of the mystery. At least, I am going to try very hard.’

  ‘Oh, that’s all right, then.’ Runa sounded profoundly relieved. If her hero failed in any way, her little heart would have been broken, it seemed.

  ‘So what do you suggest we do?’ asked Ambuj Sen.

  ‘Have you got the money?’

  ‘Yes. Naturally we did not have all that cash at home, so I sent Samaresh to the bank this morning.’

  ‘May I please see the money and the bag you are going to put it in?’

  Ambuj Babu sent for both. I had never seen such a lot of money in cash. Ten small packets were made, each containing twenty hundred-rupee notes, held together by a rubber band. All ten packets were then transferred into a bag, which began to look like a well-fed tortoise.

  ‘Very good,’ Feluda said, ‘that’s all settled, then. We should leave at quarter to six.’

  Ambuj Babu started. ‘What! You mean you will go yourself?’

  ‘I cannot allow a criminal to come and coolly walk away with your money. I know the most important thing here is to get Ambar Babu back, but if nothing is done to catch his kidnappers, they may well attack someone else. Please do not worry about anything, Mr Sen. I will take adequate precautions, as I always do.’

  ‘In that case . . .’

  ‘Listen to me carefully. You must go in your car with the money. Drive towards the new Howrah Bridge, where it’s relatively quiet. Park your car at least two hundred yards away from Princep Ghat. Then ask your driver to take this bag and leave it by the pillar as suggested. I will remain in the vicinity, to make sure nothing goes wrong. Then we’ll meet in front of the Happy Restaurant. Drive straight on and wait there for me. If I manage to catch the culprit, needless to say he, too, will be with me.’

  Ambuj Sen began to look rather uncertain. I could not blame him. The amount involved was not insignificant, and who could tell what a pack of hooligans might decide to do?

  Lalmohan Babu turned up at half past four.

  ‘I have never handled such a case before,’ Feluda declared as soon as he walked in. ‘It is totally unique.’

  I still could not see what was so special about it, but did not say anything.

  ‘What is the plan for this evening?’ Lalmohan Babu asked. ‘Listen carefully. You, Topshe, take the car and go to the Happy Restaurant at half past five. Have something to eat there and get out at six-fifteen. Leave the car in front of the restaurant and walk over to the ghat with the pillars. You’ll see a small pavilion with a domed roof just before you reach the ghat. Go there and sit on a bench. You must look as though your only aim is to have a casual walk by the river. Try keeping an eye on the ghat without making it obvious. Wait until six-forty and then go back to your car. I shall come and meet you there.’

  Four

  It was almost the end of February, but it still felt quite cool. The days, however, were now longer than in winter, and until six o’clock, it stayed reasonably bright. By the time we left the restaurant after a cup of coffee and a plate of chicken cutlets, it was a quarter past six.

  On our way to Princep Ghat, Lalmohan Babu began taking deep breaths every now and then, saying, ‘Aaaaah!’ in order to impress upon passersby that we wanted no more than to enjoy the fresh evening air. It was not a convincing act at all, but luckily, there were so few people about, and even the bhelpuriwallas had been left so far behind, that it did not really matter.

  It took us ten minutes to reach the pavilion Feluda had mentioned. We found ourselves a bench. After a few moments, Lalmohan Babu glanced around and said, ‘Can you see your cousin anywhere?’

  I could not see anyone at all, except boatmen in little boats on the river. The tall pillars around the ghat, each of them a hundred and fifty years old, towered over the water. It was quickly getting dark. If anyone crept up to any of those pillars to either leave a bag or take it, the chances of being seen were almost nil.

  ‘Look, over there!’ Lalmohan Babu hissed, clutching at my sleeve. I had seen him too. A man wearing white trousers and a dark jacket with a bag in his hand was quietly approaching one of the pillars. Bilash, Ambar Sen’s driver. He disappeared behind the pillar and emerged again a few seconds later. Now his hand was empty. He walked on until he reached the main road, then he turned right and disappeared behind a tree.

  It was now past six-thirty and almost totally dark. I could see nothing except the first row of pillars. Just for a second I thought I saw something move in the dark, but that could well have been my imagination.

  Then we saw Mr Sen’s car go past and turn in the direction of the Happy Restaurant. Three young boys in jeans came walking along after this, followed by an elderly European gentlemen with a walking stick. All of them went in the same direction as the car.

  We rose to our feet, and made our way back to our own car in ten minutes. But where was Feluda?

  ‘Salaam, babu!’ said a voice from inside the car. I peered quickly and saw an old man sitting next to the driver. He was wearing a lungi. Around his shoulders was a snuff-coloured wrapper, and on his face a heavy stubble.

  Feluda! Disguised as a Muslim boatman. Before either of us could say anything, Ambuj Sen arrived from across the road. Feluda greeted him, hurriedly explaining why he was in disguise. ‘I had to hide in one of those boats, since the ghat is clearly visible only from the river.’

  ‘But what happened, Mr Mitter? What did you see?’

  Feluda shook his head slowly. ‘Very sorry, Mr Sen,’ he said. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘The man escaped with the money before I could g
et to the ghat.’

  ‘What! You mean all that money, and the man . . . are both gone?’

  ‘Yes, I am afraid so. I told you I was sorry.’

  Ambuj Babu stared blankly at Feluda. To tell the truth, my own head was reeling. I had never seen Feluda defeated like this.

  ‘You’ll have to tell the police,’ Feluda said. ‘I suggest you go back home. Your brother ought to return now, I’ll join you there, only give me a little time to get changed. I can hardly walk into your drawing room looking like this.’

  We came back home simply so that Feluda could get into some decent clothes. He also needed to wash his hands which were stained black. ‘Coal tar,’ he told me when I asked him what it was. But he did not say whether it was a part of his disguise, or whether he had stained his hands accidentally.

  It was nearly half past seven by the time we set off for Palm Avenue. Nobody spoke on the way except Lalmohan Babu, who said, ‘It was a brilliant disguise, Felu Babu. Pity it did nothing to help you.’ Feluda made no reply.

  Runa greeted us at the door. ‘Uncle has come back!’ she shouted in glee.

  Ambar Babu, we were told, had returned only ten minutes before our arrival. He rose from a sofa as we went in and came forward to clasp Feluda’s hands in his own and shake them warmly. Ambuj Babu, his wife, and Samaresh Mallik were all present in the room.

  ‘Where had they hidden you? What exactly happened?’ Lalmohan Babu asked with a big smile.

  ‘Oh my God, I hardly know where to begin . . .’

  ‘Don’t,’ said Feluda, raising a hand. ‘Don’t say anything at all, because if you open your mouth, Mr Sen, you will simply have to use your imagination again. Please note that I used the term “imagination”, not “lies”.’

  ‘Hurrah! Hurrah!’ Runa jumped up and down with joy. ‘Feluda has guessed it. He has caught you out!’

  Feluda lit a Charminar. ‘Yes,’ he said slowly, ‘you had all got together in a conspiracy, hadn’t you? I have worked that out, though the reason for it is still a mystery.’

  ‘Please allow me to explain everything,’ Ambar Sen laughed. ‘The reason for all this is my little niece. Yes, sir. You see, she worships you. She is convinced you can never be fooled, and that you are incapable of making a mistake. So I said to her one day that I could get you involved in a totally bogus case. And that was it. That was how this whole business started. We’ve all had a role to play.’

  ‘You mean it was something like a family drama?’

  ‘Exactly. I taught everyone what to say. I knew more or less what kind of questions you might ask, so I got everyone in my family—including the servants—to rehearse and memorize their lines. The chief female role was, of course, played by my sister-in-law, who told you that fictitious story about my accident. I didn’t think you’d ever manage to get to the bottom of it. In fact, my brother and I even had a bet on it. Now I suppose I’ll have to pay him a hundred rupees. Needless to say, the one who is the happiest and most relieved at your success is little Runa. If her hero had failed, she’d have been quite inconsolable. But anyway. Mr Mitter, do tell us what made you suspicious in the first place. How on earth did you guess?’

  ‘There were two clues, both of which I found in your study. The first was a cash memo from Himalaya Opticals. They told me that you had had new glasses made a week ago. You had even ordered golden frames. But no one in your family knew about it; nor had anyone seen you wear them. The question was, why did you have them made at this particular time? What did you need them for?

  ‘The second thing that struck me as odd was the calendar on your desk. Its date had not been changed for three days. No one ever changed the date except yourself. What made you neglect your duty?

  ‘Then an idea occurred to me. What if this business of being kidnapped was not true? What if you were only pretending to have been captured by a gang of unknown hooligans? If this was the case, you would naturally need to go into hiding somewhere, and that might require leaving your home a couple of days before the supposed kidnapping, just to get used to a new place. To be on the safe side, I thought, you might even have got yourself some sort of a disguise, which would explain the new glasses.’

  ‘Right! You are absolutely right!’ Runa shouted again.

  I suddenly noticed Lalmohan Babu. He was pacing up and down like a caged tiger. What was the matter with him? I opened my mouth to ask, but he stopped abruptly and raised his arms.

  ‘Eureka!’ he exclaimed.

  ‘Ah, so you’ve finally got it, have you? Can you recognize him?’ Feluda asked.

  ‘Of course. Mrityunjay Som.’

  Ambar Sen burst our laughing.

  ‘Our first meeting in the park took place purely by accident, I assure you. What happened was that my place of hiding was actually a friend’s house not far from where you live. I had no idea you lived in that area. When you introduced yourself, I could scarcely believe it. Who could have imagined I’d run into a member of Mr Mitter’s team? Then I thought I might pull your leg, just a little. You saw me again in Mr Mitter’s house, but failed to recognize me without my disguise.’

  ‘All right, Mr Sen. I think that explains most things, but not all. We cannot say the whole mystery has been solved, can we?’ Feluda asked.

  Ambar Sen stopped laughing instantly, for Feluda had spoken these words in a serious tone.

  ‘Where did the money go?’ Feluda continued, sounding decidedly grim. The air suddenly became charged with tension.

  Ambar Sen gave Feluda a piercing look and said, ‘Mr Mitter, I am something of an amateur detective myself. What if I were to tell you it was you who took the money just to keep us guessing for a while? When there’s no real criminal, no one’s actually been kidnapped, where could the money have gone?’

  Feluda shook his head. ‘No, Mr Sen, I’m afraid your deductions are quite wrong. At Princep Ghat this evening, there was someone else, apart from myself, also in disguise.’

  ‘Really? Did you see him?’

  ‘Yes, but I didn’t recognize him.’

  ‘I see, but why did you let that bother you? If you knew the man was in disguise, you should have caught him then and there!’

  ‘No, that would not have been dramatic enough. You like drama, don’t you? I think exposing the man in front of you would be much more dramatic. It is my belief that he is present in this room. But I have to be absolutely sure.’

  There was a pindrop silence in the room. I cast a sidelong glance at Runa. Even she had turned pale.

  ‘Bilash Babu, could you please check your shoes?’ Feluda asked. Bilash Babu was standing near the door. ‘My shoes?’ he said ruefully. ‘What is there to check? They’re smeared with coal tar. My feet kept getting stuck to the ground when I came back from the ghat after leaving that bag there.’

  ‘I had spread coal tar around that particular pillar,’ Feluda told us, ‘because I had reason to suspect someone. All of you had made up tales for me. But the pack of lies this person told me was different from . . . why, where are you going?’

  The only route of escape was blocked by the solid frame of Bilash Babu. He reached out and caught the person who was trying to slip out quickly. It was Samaresh Mallik. ‘Take off your sandals, Mr Mallik, and let everyone have a look. Bilash Babu might be able to help.’ Mr Mallik remained still, like a statue. Bilash Babu bent down and took off one of his sandals. Like his own shoes, it was covered with tar. There could be no doubt that Mr Mallik had been to Princep Ghat.

  ‘Your Koh-i-noor Pictures went out of business two years ago, didn’t it?’ Feluda went on. ‘How could you go round telling people you were still working there? How did you manage all this while? Where did you get the money from?’

  Mr Mallik did not answer. Bilash Babu was still holding him tight, looking as though he had no intention of letting him go until the police arrived.

  ‘I must say you have only me to thank for exposing this man. You had no idea, Mr Sen, did you? And you certainly would not have left a
bag full of cash by that pillar unless I had insisted, and said I myself was going to be present there. Anyway, Mr Mallik has now got twenty thousand rupees. If he doesn’t return it to you himself, you are of course free to call the police. They have various methods of dealing with such people. My job here is over. I think it’s time for us to go.’

  At these words, Lalmohan Babu and I rose to our feet, but were obliged to sit down again.

  ‘Go? Most certainly not!’ exclaimed Mrs Sen. ‘You think I will let you go without making amends for having told you so many lies? No, you cannot go without having dinner with us tonight.’

  ‘Besides,’ Ambar Sen put in, ‘some of that twenty thousand should definitely go to you. How can you leave without taking what is your due?’

  ‘And today all three of you have come together. Won’t you stay to sign my autograph book?’ Runa piped up.

  Lalmohan Babu clinched matters. ‘End well that all’s well!’ he declared.

  The Gold Coins of Jehangir

  One

  ‘Hello can I speak to Mr Mitter, please?’

  ‘Speaking.’

  ‘Namaskar. My name is Shankarprasad Chowdhury. I live in Panihati. You don’t know me, but I am calling you to make a special request.’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘I’d like you to visit my house here in Panihati. It is by the Ganges. It’s about a hundred years old and is called Amaravati. Locally it’s quite well-known. I’m aware of the kind of work you do, and that you’re normally accompanied by your cousin and your friend, so I’m inviting all three of you. Do you think you could come next Saturday, say around ten in the morning? You could stay the night and go back the following morning.’

  ‘Are you in trouble of some kind? I mean, you said you knew about my profession, so I wonder . . . ?’

  ‘Yes, why else would I need to seek your help? But I’m not going to talk about it on the phone. I think you’ll enjoy staying in my house. You’ll be well looked after—I can guarantee that—and you’ll get a chance to exercise your brain.’