Two

The next morning, Satyabati said, “If we’re going to Kashmir, where are the quilts and bedding?” Byomkesh replied, “Why, didn’t we have them last year in Patna?” Satyabati said, “Those all belong to your elder brothers. Do we have anything of our own? The mild winters of Calcutta are manageable, but for Kashmir, we’ll need at least two English blankets and a beaver coat for me.” “Hm. Come on, Ajit, let’s go out.” I asked, “Where are we going?” He said, “Let’s go to Suchitra Emporium. We’ll kill two birds with one stone.” I said, “Why not take Satyabati along? She can choose her own things.” Byomkesh glanced at Satyabati. In a plaintive voice, she said, “I’d love to go, but how can I? The school car will be coming for Khoka.” Byomkesh said, “You don’t need to come. I’ll pick out your things myself. Don’t worry, you won’t be disappointed.” Satyabati cast a laughing, sidelong glance at Byomkesh as she went inside, her unwavering faith in his taste evident. In truth, I had always done the shopping for Satyabati’s fashionable things. But now spring had arrived, the month of Phalgun was passing— The two of us set out. By half past nine, we reached Dharmatala Street and saw that the emporium’s...

The door stood open, the heavy curtains drawn aside from the immense glass windows. We stepped inside. It was a vast room, its mosaic floor dotted here and there with showcases displaying an array of elegant wares. A handful of customers, most of them upper-class ladies, had already arrived and were browsing. The staff stood at their stations, attending to the whims of the clientele. A distinguished elderly gentleman paced from one end of the room to the other, his watchful gaze sweeping over everything.

As we entered, the elderly gentleman approached and greeted us with respectful courtesy. “Please, come in. What may I show you?”

Byomkesh glanced about the room, his voice hesitant. “Just a small thing—two British blankets. Would you have them?”

“Certainly. This way, please.” The gentleman led us aside. “Anything else?”

“And a ladies’ beaver coat.”

“You’ll find both. Here’s the lift—upstairs you’ll get blankets and beaver coats alike.”

In the corner of the room, a small lift was ascending and descending. As we moved to stand before it, a voice called from behind, “I’ll take care of these gentlemen.”

Turning at the familiar voice, we saw Satyakam. Dressed in a silk suit, his appearance was neat and trim—he must have been in this very room all along, but his foreign attire had made him unremarkable to us until now. The elderly gentleman, seeing him, said, “Ah—very well. Take them upstairs, they want to buy British blankets and a beaver coat.” With a brief smile in our direction, he moved off elsewhere.

Byomkesh glanced quickly from Satyakam to the elderly gentleman, and asked softly, “Is he your—?”

Satyakam suppressed a smile. “Partner.”

“In other words—your father!”

Satyakam nodded in assent.

Though I had