The following morning a stranger dropped in on us.

I had just finished my tea and was about to open the morning paper when there was a knock on the door.

Byomkesh looked up attentively and called out, ‘Who is it? Please come on in.’

A decently dressed youth came in. He was clean-shaven, slim in build and looked to be on the right side of thirty. There was something athletic about the way he carried himself. Walking in, he smiled pleasantly at us and joined his hands in greeting, saying, ‘I hope you do not mind my coming to bother you at this early hour. My name is Prafulla Roy; I am an insurance agent.’ He dropped into a chair uninvited.

Byomkesh said disinterestedly, ‘We do not have the money to take out a life insurance policy.’

Prafulla Roy laughed out loud. There is a breed of people who look quite presentable otherwise, but when they laugh, they become quite unsightly. Prafulla Roy belonged to that category. He was probably a chronic paan-chewer because his teeth were heavily stained by the betel-leaf juice. I was intrigued seeing how a handsome face could be thus distorted.

Prafulla Roy continued to laugh as he said, ‘I may be an insurance agent, but that isn’t exactly what has brought me here. Of course, these days even our near and dear ones have taken to slamming the door shut on our faces even before we can speak; and I can’t say I blame them either. But you may rest assured that right now I do not have any such nefarious intent. You, I presume, are Byomkeshbabu—the famous detective? I have come to take some advice from you on a private matter, sir—if you have no objections...’

Byomkesh’s lips curled in irritation as he said, ‘There has to be some advance payment for a consultation.’

Prafulla Roy immediately took a ten-rupee note out of his wallet and placed it on the table, saying, ‘What I have to say is not exactly classified, but...’ he glanced at me inquiringly. I made as if to leave, but Byomkesh said, quite sternly, ‘He is my associate and friend. You may say whatever you have to say in front of him.’

Prafulla Roy said, ‘Certainly, certainly. Since he is your associate, I have no objections at all. You are—? Oh, forgive me, Ajitbabu, I did not realize that you are Byomkeshbabu’s friend. You are a fortunate man indeed, working so closely with such a famous detective, helping crack so many strange cases and crimes—it is no small matter. You probably do not have a dull moment in your life. I sometimes wish I could quit this boring life of an insurance agent and lead a life like yours.’ He took out a case of paan from his pocket and put one in his mouth.

Byomkesh was growing increasingly restless and he said, ‘I think it would be nice if you now state your case on which you need my advice.’

Prafulla Roy hastily turned towards him and said, ‘Yes, I was coming to that, sir. As I have already told you, I am an insurance agent. I work for Bombay’s Jewel Insurance Company. I have raised nearly ten to twelve lakhs of rupees for the company and so, as a reward, they have sent me to Calcutta, entrusting the office here to my charge. For the last eight months I have been in this city on a permanent basis.

‘The first few months were fine on the work front. Then suddenly there was an unexpected problem. I do not want to take names, but an employee of a rival firm was the cause. I do not handle the smaller commissions. Those that are worth a few thousand rupees are taken care of by my subordinates. I come in only for the big cases. Now, this man began to steal my bigger clients—major policies—from me. He would turn up after me wherever I went, berate my company by carrying tales to the clients, and take away my business. Eventually things came to such a pass that these bigger life policies began to slip out of my hands.

‘Four or five months went by in this fashion. I began to receive pressures from above, but I had no idea about how I could retrieve my business from this man’s hands. A legal suit was not the solution—it would damage the company name. And yet, I would have to shake this bloodsucking leech off somehow. A couple more months passed, without any solution coming to my mind. Then...’

Furtively, Prafulla Roy pulled out two chits from his wallet and handed the smaller one to Byomkesh, saying, ‘About a fortnight ago this advertisement caught my eye. You, perhaps, haven’t noticed it; there was no reason for you to do so. But sir, although it is a small classified, as soon as I read it, my heart leaped up! Is my case a thorn-in-the-flesh or what? I thought, let me see if my thorn-in-the-flesh can indeed be extricated! The state I was in, I think I would not even have objected to exotic talismans.’

I craned my neck and saw that it was a cutting of the same thorn-in-the-flesh insert. Prafulla Roy went on, ‘Have you read it? Isn’t it peculiar? Anyway, on the appointed day, that is, the Saturday before last, I went and stood by the lamp-post, like a Santa under a Christmas tree. Oh, nothing can describe that ordeal. My legs went to sleep, but it was all in vain—nobody came. Utterly disgusted, I was coming back when I suddenly realized that this letter was in my pocket.’

He handed the second piece of paper to Byomkesh and said, ‘Take a look—this is the one.’

Byomkesh opened the letter and began to read it; I came and stood behind his chair and read it over his shoulder—it was an exact replica of the letter I, too, had received, except that