I was awakened by a clamouring noise in my head. Day hadn’t dawned yet. It felt like someone was banging on a metal disc right next to my ear. A few days ago, another such jangling summons had dragged us from sleep.

I could not bring myself to linger in bed this morning. Striding swiftly into the next room, I found Byomkesh answering the telephone call. I sat down on the cot next to the instrument and listened to the audible end of the conversation.

‘Hello, Bijoybabu … what?’ I heard Byomkesh say. ‘Dead! When? What happened? … Yes, I can come over, but what’s the use of going now? Why don’t you give Inspector Barat a call instead, and he’ll make the arrangements … Yes, absolutely! An autopsy is a must and the bottle of medication has to be sent in for examination … Right …’

Byomkesh hung up and sat down in an armchair. The question that was bubbling on my lips burst forth: ‘Who was it? Who has died?’

Cobwebs of a nightmare seemed to hang over Byomkesh’s face. He rubbed his hand over his eyes as though to wipe it away. He said, ‘It’s Panugopal. His body was discovered just a while back. He had probably applied some medicine to his ears, because the unscrewed bottle was found next to him. The medicine had been poisoned and the stinging sensation of the poison had made him rush outside, where he fell from the top of the stairs. That’s where he died. It’s my fault. I should have realized that if Panu really knew something of crucial importance, his life would be in danger. Why didn’t I take preventive measures? Why didn’t I bring him home with me yesterday? But yesterday Bijoy had remarked that Panu was an idiot and that, perhaps, he really didn’t have very much to say. My mind was swayed by that logic …’

Byomkesh suddenly fell silent. A new suspicion had raised its ugly head while he was chastising himself and he covered his face with his hands.

The morning crept in slowly. Putiram came in with the tea. But Byomkesh didn’t touch it. Neither did he light a single cigarette. He lay in the armchair, as if in a stupor, a hand sheltering his face.

My heart was heavy. Nature had afflicted poor Panugopal with a congenital defect, but his mind had been sound. He was also capable of deep gratitude. Nishanathbabu had been fond of him and I too, had grown to like him. The news of his painful death continued to torment me.

At noon, Byomkesh got up in silence and had his bath and his lunch. Then he switched on the fan and stretched out on the bed. I knew he hadn’t done so for a quick nap. He held himself responsible for Panugopal’s death and needed solitude so that he could come to terms with it. Moreover, he was desperate to unmask the shrouded assassin who had silently removed two people in quick succession from the face of the earth.

That evening, we sat and drank our tea together. Byomkesh’s face continued to look as menacing as a newly sharpened razor blade.

Pramod Barat arrived with the autopsy report when darkness had descended. He handed it to Byomkesh and said, ‘Death by nicotine poison. There was nicotine in the bottle of medicine as well.’

Byomkesh placed the cigarette case before Barat and asked Putiram for a second round of tea. He read the report without a single comment and passed it on to me.

Death had occurred at night between ten o’clock and eleven. Panu had been suffering from an ear infection. Before going to bed, he had dipped a ball of cotton in the bottled medicine and applied it to his ears. This was part of his daily routine. But yesterday, someone had mixed poison in his medicine without him coming to know of it. He had died within minutes of the poison entering his bloodstream. There were no marks of external wounds. These facts were evident from the post-mortem report and from what Barat had told us.

‘Who was the first to find the body?’ Byomkesh asked.

‘Nepalbabu’s daughter Mukul,’ Barat replied.

Byomkesh stared at him for a few seconds, then remarked, ‘Mukul again! Strange.’

Barat said, ‘From what I have heard, the girl is in the habit of rising very early in the morning and strolling about in the garden.’

‘Hmm. Have you conducted your own investigations?’

‘I interrogated everyone, but couldn’t come up with anything useful.’

‘The medicine that Panu used to apply in his ears—was it prescribed by Bhujangadharbabu?’

‘It was. All it contained was glycerine and boric powder. Bhujangadharbabu told me that he used to prepare a bottle every month and give it to Panu to use. Last night, some time before ten o’clock, the killer arrived and mixed the nicotine in the medicine. Most probably, Panu was at dinner at the time.’

‘Did you check at what time each of the persons on the farm had his dinner?’

‘Not all of them dined together. Some preceded the others. Panu went in at around quarter to ten, which was shortly after we left.’

‘Who did the cooking yesterday?’

‘Damayanti and Mukul. Both were in the kitchen throughout.’

There was a prolonged silence. Putiram left the tea and snacks on the table.

Byomkesh observed, ‘Nicotine … Ajit, I wonder if you’ve noticed—this is the second time nicotine has come into the picture.’

‘I have,’ I replied. ‘in other words, Sunayana.’

Barat interjected, ‘But we have already rejected the possibility that Sunayana, or any other woman for that matter, could string up Nishanathbabu from the ceiling. So we have to conclude that Sunayana has a male accomplice.’

‘Either male or female. The task that is impossible for one woman to accomplish could very well be within the reach of two. But the real clue is nicotine. Where did this poison come from? Inspector