by Satyajit Ray
We came back to our room after a few minutes. Jayanta Babu went to the greenhouse to look at his orchids. We had been given two adjoining rooms on the ground floor. There were three other rooms across the passage. Presumably, those were meant for the other three guests.
Lalmohan Babu took one look at the large, comfortable bed and said, ‘Hey, I feel like having a nap, too. But no, I must read those books you gave me.’
‘Feluda,’ I said when he had gone, ‘have you thought about the plan this evening? Even if there is a power cut at seven, what happens if the thief does not steal anything this time? How will you catch him?’
‘I can’t. At least, not without studying all three people carefully. Anyone with a tendency to stealing would have a subtle difference in his behaviour. It shouldn’t be impossible to spot it if I watch him closely. Don’t forget that a thief is a criminal, no matter how polished and sophisticated his appearance might be.’
Soon, the sound of two cars stopping outside the front door told us that the guests had arrived. Mr Chowdhury came to fetch us himself when tea had been laid out on the veranda, and introduced us to the others.
Dr Sarkar lived within a mile, so he had come walking. About fifty years old, he had a receding hairline and specks of grey in his hair. But his moustache was jet black.
Naresh Kanjilal was tall and hefty. He was dressed formally in a suit. ‘I am very glad you’ve decided to write Banwarilal’s biography,’ he said to Feluda. ‘I’ve often told Shankar to have this done. Banwarilal was a remarkable man.’
Kalinath Roy turned out to be a fun-loving man. He was carrying a shoulder bag, possibly containing equipment for magic. He smiled as he met Lalmohan Babu and said, ‘Who knew a bird-watcher would go carrying an egg in his pocket?’ Then he quickly slipped a hand into Lalmohan Babu’s pocket and brought out a smooth white stone egg. ‘What a pity!’ he said, shaking his head regretfully. ‘I was planning to have it fried!’
It was decided that after dinner, Mr Roy would hold a small magic show for us.
It had started to get dark. The last few rays of the sun shone on the water. A cool breeze rose from the river. Mr Kanjilal and Mr Roy went for a walk. Lalmohan Babu had been fidgeting for some time. Now he rose to his feet with the binoculars in his hand and said, ‘I thought I heard the cry of a paradise flycatcher. Let me see if the bird is anywhere around.’ I looked at Feluda as Lalmohan Babu went out busily; but, seeing that Feluda had kept a perfectly straight face, I managed to stop myself from bursting into laughter.
Dr Sarkar took a sip from his cup and turned to Mr Chowdhury. ‘Where is your cousin? Is he still roaming in his garden?’
‘You know how he feels about his flowers.’
‘True. But I told him to wear a cap if he were to spend long hours out in the sun. Has he taken my advice?’
‘Do you think Jayanta would ever take a doctor’s advice? You know him better than that, don’t you?’
Feluda was watching the doctor covertly, a Charminar in his hand.
‘How is your aunt?’ Dr Sarkar asked.
‘Not too bad. But she was complaining of having lost her appetite. Why don’t you pay her a visit?’
‘Yes, I think I’ll do that. Excuse me.’
Dr Sarkar got up and went upstairs. Jayanta Babu returned from the garden as soon as he left, grinning broadly.
‘Why, what’s so amusing?’ Mr Chowdhury asked.
Jayanta Babu poured himself a cup of tea and turned to Feluda, still grinning. ‘Your friend is trying desperately to pass himself off as a bird-watcher. I found him in the garden peering through his binoculars, looking dead serious.’
Feluda laughed. ‘Well, virtually everyone present here will have to do a certain amount of acting today, won’t he? Your cousin’s plan has a heavy element of drama in it, don’t you think?’
Jayanta Babu stopped smiling.
‘Do you approve of my cousin’s plan?’ he asked.
‘Why, don’t you?’
‘No, not in the least. The thief, I am sure, is far too clever to fall for something so obvious. You think he doesn’t know we’ve discovered that a gold coin is missing?’
‘Yes, Jayanta, you’re quite right,’ replied Mr Chowdhury, ‘but I still want to give it a try. Call it simply a whim, if you like, or the result of reading too many detective novels.’
‘Do you want to take out every single object from the chest?’
‘No, no, just the snuff box and the goblet. They’re both in an ivory box. Dr Sarkar is with your mother right now. You must go to her room the minute he returns and get me those two things. Here’s the key.’
Jayanta Babu took the key with marked reluctance.
Dr Sarkar returned in five minutes. ‘Your aunt is just fine,’ he said happily. ‘I left her on the veranda, eating rice and milk. She’s going to be around for quite some time, Mr Chowdhury. She is in pretty good health.’
Jayanta Babu left without a word. ‘Why are you still sitting around?’ Dr Sarkar asked Feluda. ‘Let’s go out and get some fresh air. You’ll never get such clean air in Calcutta.’
All of us got up and went down the steps. I spotted Lalmohan Babu behind a marble statue in the garden, still peering through the binoculars.
‘Did you find the paradise flycatcher?’ Feluda asked him.
‘No. But I think I saw a jungle babbler.’
‘Lalmohan Babu, it is now time for the birds to return to their nests. In a few minutes, you won’t be able to find anything except perhaps an owl.’
There was no sign of either Naresh Kanjilal or Kalinath Roy. Where had they gone? Could they be in the orchard behind the greenhouse?
‘Hey, Naresh, where are you hiding?’ called Mr Chowdhury. ‘And Kalinath, where have you got to?’
‘I saw one of them go into the house.’ said Lalmohan Babu. ‘Which one?’
‘I think it was the magician.’
But Lalmohan Babu was wrong. It was Naresh Kanjilal who emerged from the house, not Kalinath Roy. ‘The temperature drops very quickly the moment the sun goes down,’ he said upon seeing us, ‘so I had gone inside to get my shawl.’
‘Where’s Kalinath?’
‘Why, he left me as soon as we reached the garden. He said he had learnt a new trick to turn old, wilted flowers into fresh new ones, so . . .’
Mr Kanjilal could not finish speaking. He was interrupted by Mr Chowdhury’s old servant, Ananta, who came rushing out of the house, shouting and waving madly. ‘Why, Ananta, whatever’s the matter?’ Mr Chowdhury asked anxiously.
‘Come quickly, sir. It’s Jayanta Babu. He fell . . . upstairs . . . he’s lying on the stairs, unconscious.’
Three
Each one of us sped upstairs without a word. We found Jayanta Babu lying just outside his mother’s room on the landing, about three feet away from the threshold. He had hurt the back of his head. Blood had oozed out on the floor, to form a small red pool.
Dr Sarkar was the first to reach him. He sat down by Jayanta Babu and quickly took his pulse. Feluda joined him a second later. He was looking grave, and frowning deeply.
‘What do you think?’ asked Mr Chowdhury in a low voice.
‘His pulse is faster than it should be.’
‘And that wound on his head?’
‘He must have got it as he fell. I got tired of telling him to wear a cap when working in the sun.’
‘Concussion—?’
‘It’s impossible to tell without making a proper examination. The trouble is, I didn’t bring my medical kit today. I think he should be removed to a hospital right away.’
‘That’s not a problem. I have a car.’
Feluda helped the others in carrying Jayanta Babu to the car. He remained unconscious. Kalinath Roy met us on the staircase.
‘I had stepped into my room just for a second to take some medicine—and this happened!’ he exclaimed.
‘Shall I come with you?’ asked Mr Chowdhury as Dr Sarkar got into the car.
&
nbsp; ‘No, there’s no need to do that. I’ll give you a ring from the hospital.’
The car left. I felt very sorry for Mr Chowdhury. What an awful thing to happen on one’s birthday. Besides, now his plan wouldn’t work, either.
We went into the drawing room and sat down. But Feluda sprang to his feet almost immediately and went out of the room with a brief ‘I’ll be back in a minute’. He returned soon enough, but I couldn’t tell where he had gone. Mr Chowdhury continued to speak normally, even going so far as to tell his guests a few stories about his great-grandfather. But clearly it wasn’t easy for him to remain calm and cheerful, when he must have been feeling anxious about his cousin.
Dr Sarkar rang an hour later. Jayanta Babu had regained consciousness and was feeling better. He would probably come back home the next day.
This piece of news helped everyone relax, but the chief purpose of our visit seemed to have been defeated. Mr Chowdhury made no attempt to bring out any objects from the chest and, in fact, after declining his offer to show us films on video, we returned to our room soon after dinner. The magic show also got cancelled.
As soon as we were back in our room, Lalmohan Babu asked the question I had been dying to ask for a long time.
‘Where did you disappear to when we were all in the drawing room?’
‘I went to Mr Chowdhury’s aunt’s room.’
‘Why? Just to see how she was doing?’ Lalmohan Babu sounded sceptical.
‘Yes, but I also pulled at the handle of that chest.’
‘Oh? And was it open?’
‘No. I don’t think Jayanta Babu got the chance to open it. He seemed to have fallen on the floor before he got to the room.’
‘But where’s the key?’ I asked.
‘I don’t think Mr Chowdhury thought of looking for it. Everything happened so quickly.’
I opened my mouth to speak, but at this moment, Mr Chowdhury himself came into the room. ‘I am so sorry about everything,’ he said, ‘but thank goodness Jayanta is feeling better. This happened once before. Sometimes his blood pressure drops alarmingly.’
‘What else did Dr Sarkar say?’
‘That’s what I came to tell you. I didn’t want to say anything in front of the others. You see, I had forgotten all about the key. Now, the doctor tells me Jayanta hasn’t got it. Perhaps it slipped out of his pocket as he fell.’
‘Did you look for it?’
‘Oh yes, I looked everywhere on the landing, the stairs and even outside the front door. That key has vanished.’
‘Never mind. You have a duplicate, don’t you?’
‘Yes, but that’s not the point. The mystery hasn’t been solved, has it? That’s what’s worrying me. I couldn’t even give you the chance to exercise your brain!’
‘So what? I wouldn’t consider this visit entirely fruitless. I’ve seen this beautiful house and enjoyed your wonderful hospitality. That’s good enough for me, Mr Chowdhury.’
Mr Chowdhury smiled. ‘It’s very kind of you to say so, Mr Mitter. Anyway, I shall now bid you good-night. Your bed tea will arrive at six-thirty, and breakfast will be served at eight.’
Lalmohan Babu spoke in a whisper when Mr Chowdhury had gone. ‘Could this be a case of attempted murder?’ he asked. ‘After all, both Mr Kanjilal and Mr Roy had gone into the house.’
‘Surely murder was unnecessary to get what they wanted? All they had to do was make sure Jayanta Babu was unconscious.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Just that. How long would it take, do you think, to remove a key from the pocket of an unconscious man, unlock the chest, take what was needed and then slip the key back where it had been found?’
I hadn’t thought of this at all.
‘If that is the case,’ I said, ‘then we have two suspects instead of three—Kanjilal and Roy.’
‘No,’ Feluda shook his head, ‘it’s not as simple as that. If someone else had struck him unconscious, Jayanta Babu would have said so the minute he opened his eyes in the hospital. He didn’t. Besides, his mother was in the room throughout. Surely she’d have said something if anyone other than a family member started to open the chest? I could pull at the handle only because her back was turned for a second.’
I didn’t know what to say. So I went to bed, though I couldn’t go to sleep. Feluda was still pacing in the room. What was keeping him awake, I wondered. After a few minutes, Lalmohan Babu returned from his own room.
‘Have you looked out of the window?’ he asked. ‘I have never seen things bathed in moonlight like this. It’s a crime to stay indoors on such a night!’
‘Yes, you are right,’ Feluda began moving towards the door. ‘Let’s go out. If you must turn into a poet in the middle of the night, you should have witnesses.’
Outside, Amaravati and its surroundings were looking more beautiful than they had done during the day. A thin mist covered everything on the other side of the river. The reflection of the moon shimmered in the dark, rippling water. The sound of crickets in the distance, the smell of hasnuhana, and a fresh breeze combined together to give the atmosphere a magical quality. Feluda looked at the nearly full moon and remarked, ‘Man may have landed there, but who can ever take away the joy of sitting in moonlight?’
‘There’s a terrific poem about the moon,’ declared Lalmohan Babu.
‘Written, no doubt, by that man who was a teacher in your Athenium Institution?’
‘Yes. Baikuntha Mallik. No one in our foolish, miserable country ever gave him his due, but he’s a great poet. Listen to this one. Tapesh, listen carefully.’
We had been talking in soft tones. But now, Lalmohan Babu’s voice rose automatically as he began to recite the poem.
‘O moon, how I admire you!
A silver disc one day,
or half-a-disc as days go by,
or a quarter, or even
just a slice, oh my,
like a piece of nail, freshly cut,
lying in the sky.
After that comes the moonless night,
there’s no trace of you.
As you, my love, are hidden from sight,
untouched by moonlight, too!’
Lalmohan Babu stopped and, unaware that I was trying desperately hard not to laugh, said seriously, ‘As you can see, Tapesh, the poem is actually addressed to a lady.’
‘Well, certainly your recitation has caused a lady to come out of her room,’ Feluda observed, staring at the balcony on the first floor. This balcony was attached to Mr Chowdhury’s aunt’s room. The old lady, clad in her white sari, had stepped out of her room and was standing on the balcony, looking around. She remained there for about a minute. Then she went back inside.
We turned towards the river and sat on the steps of the ghat for more than half an hour. Finally, Feluda glanced at his watch and said, ‘It’s nearly one o’clock. Let’s go.’ We rose, and stopped still as a strange noise reached our ears.
Thud, thud, clang! Thud, thud, clang!
Slowly, we climbed the steps of the ghat and made our way back to the house.
‘Is someone digging a s-secret p-passage?’ Lalmohan Babu whispered.
My eyes turned towards the old lady’s room. That was where the noise appeared to be coming from. A faint light flickered in it.
Thud, thud, thud, thud, clang, clang!
But another light was on in one of the rooms in the far end. I could actually see someone through the open window. It was a man, talking agitatedly. A few seconds later he went out of the room.
‘Mr Kanjilal,’ Feluda muttered, ‘in Mr Chowdhury’s room.’
‘What could they have been talking about so late at night?’
‘I don’t know. Perhaps it was something to do with their business.’
‘Why, couldn’t you sleep, either?’
All of us started as a new voice spoke unexpectedly. Then I noticed the magician, Kalinath Roy, coming out of the shadows.
That strange noise hadn’t stopped. Mr Ro
y raised his head and looked at the open window of the old lady’s room. ‘Have you figured out what’s causing that noise?’ he asked.
‘A hand grinder?’ said Feluda.
‘Exactly. Mr Chowdhury’s aunt often wakes in the middle of the night and decides to crush paan leaves in her grinder. I’ve heard that noise before.’
Mr Roy took out a cigarette from his pocket and lit it. Then he shook the match slowly until it went out, and gave Feluda a sharp, knowing look.
‘Why do you suppose a private investigator had to be invited to act as Banwarilal’s biographer?’ he asked casually. I gasped in astonishment. So did Lalmohan Babu.
Feluda laughed lightly. ‘Oh, I’m glad someone recognized me!’ he said.
‘There’s a lot that I know, Mr Mitter. I’ve been through so much that my eyes and ears have got accustomed to staying open at all times.’
Feluda looked steadily at him. ‘Will you come to the point, Mr Roy? Or will you continue to speak in riddles?’
‘How many people have you met who can speak their minds openly? Most people do not want to open their mouths. Unfortunately, I am one of them. You are the investigator, it is your job to speak openly and reveal all. But let me tell you one thing. You can forget about using your professional skills here in Shankar’s house. Do spend a few days here, if you like, have fun and enjoy yourself. But if you meddle in things that don’t concern you, you’ll get into trouble.’
‘I see. Thanks for your advice.’
Kalinath Roy went back into the house.
‘It seems he knows something vital,’ Lalmohan Babu observed. ‘Yes, but that’s not surprising, is it? After all, he was here last year. He may have seen something.’
‘Or maybe Mr Roy himself is the thief?’ I said. ‘Don’t you remember what Mr Chowdhury said about his sleight of hand?’
‘Precisely,’ Feluda nodded.
Four
I woke at six-thirty the following morning as my bed-tea arrived. But Feluda appeared to have risen long before me.
