It was two o’clock by the time we had sent the body away for the post-mortem, dispatched a telegram to Debkumarbabu and wrapped the matter up to the best of our ability. By the time we returned home and finished our lunch, the short winter day was drawing to a close.

Byomkesh remained morose and silent. I, too, was feeling rather uncomfortable. While we had been rather anxious for something interesting to turn up, who would have thought it would present itself in this cruel fashion? I was constantly reminded of Habul’s face and felt very melancholic.

Gradually dusk rolled in; Byomkesh continued to sit by the window in silence, staring out unseeingly. Finally I asked, ‘It is suicide, isn’t it? What do you feel?’

Byomkesh was startled, ‘Eh? Oh, you mean Rekha? What is your opinion?’

Although I wasn’t entirely sure, I said, ‘What else can it possibly be? Her intent is pretty obvious from that letter.’

‘That it is. But what would you say was the method by which she committed suicide?’

‘Poison. That too she states categorically in the letter...’

‘She does. But I don’t quite understand how she could consume the poison even before she had laid her hands on it. She did ask for it in the letter; but seeing that the letter didn’t even reach its destination and was found lying under her pillow instead, where did the poison come from?’

I said, ‘The letter said that if she didn’t get poison, she would try any other means...’

‘But do you think it is possible that she would try other means even before sending the letter?’

I remained silent.

A few moments later Byomkesh said, ‘Moreover, nobody commits suicide while kneeling down to light a stove. Rekha’s death came without warning—like a bolt from the blue. So furious, so infallible was this fiery bolt, that she didn’t have a second to move. Even the matchstick she had lit burnt out in her hand.’

‘How is such a death possible?’

‘That is what I cannot figure out. I know that from among the known poisons, none except hydrocyanic acid has such fatal effects. But...’

Byomkesh left the sentence hanging.

A little diffidently, I said, ‘I do not know much about these things, but isn’t it possible that the death came from a sudden heart failure?’

Byomkesh continued to ruminate and said, ‘That is the possibility which is beginning to look more and more probable. Rekha used to take aspirin for her headaches. Perhaps she had a weak heart too ... but no, something doesn’t seem quite right. I cannot accept the possibility of a heart failure so easily, although all the evidence and logic seems to point towards it.’

He gave a perplexed laugh. ‘My brain and my instincts are not seeing eye to eye. I cannot get rid of the feeling that the death is an unnatural one, an uncommon one, and something about it is gravely wrong. But let that be; it is