Ten

Ratikanta entered the room and said, “The chemical analysis report has just come in. No poison was found in the medicine.”

We stared at him, mouths agape. We had been so certain that curare would be found in the liver vial that the news did not register at first.

“No poison was found?”

“No. Here is the report.” Ratikanta handed a slip of paper to Byomkesh.

There was no mention of any poison in the report—just an ordinary, standard liver extract. Byomkesh cast a furrowed glance at Pandeyji and Ratikanta.

“Most astonishing.”

Ratikanta cleared his throat and said, “Byomkesh Babu, what do you make of this?”

Byomkesh replied, “First, tell me—what do you make of it?”

It seemed to me that Ratikanta was secretly pleased. He sat down on the edge of a chair, gazed intently into space for a while, then slowly said, “There is no doubt that Dipnarayanji died of curare poisoning. The post-mortem confirmed the presence of poison. The toxin entered his body—”

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“How was it done? The poison cannot enter except by injection. Yet, the vial from which the injection was administered—no trace of poison was found in it.” Ratikanta hesitated a moment. “From this, the only conclusion is that the vial Dr. Palit used to give the injection was not the one he handed over to us—he gave us a different vial.”

Pandeyji said, “But why? What would he gain from that?”

Ratikanta replied, a touch of anxiety in his voice, “The gain would be that we would believe the death was not caused by the injection.”

“Could it have been someone other than the doctor? After Dipnarayan’s death, many people entered the room. In the commotion, perhaps someone else switched the vial.”

“Not impossible, but—”

Byomkesh spoke slowly, “You believe Dr. Palit is the true culprit?”

Ratikanta fell silent for a moment, then said, “The hint you gave at the station today about Dr. Palit was already on my mind. Then, after receiving the analysis report, I thought—if Dr. Palit is innocent, why is he not acting straightforwardly? In these circumstances, it is only natural to suspect him. Of course, Dr. Palit has no personal gain in Dipnarayanji’s death. But those who do stand to gain could have bribed him to do their bidding. Perhaps they paid him fifty thousand, or even a lakh of rupees. There is nothing a man won’t do for money.”

Byomkesh nodded slowly. “True enough, there is nothing a man won’t do for money. If Dr. Palit committed this act for money, then it isn’t enough to apprehend only him—we must also catch the one who paid him. Have you any idea who that might be?”

“At first glance, it seems it could be none other than Debanarayan.”

“That does seem likely for now, but where is the proof? Has any evidence been found?”

“No evidence has been found yet.”

Ratikanta looked at Pandeyji and said, “Tonight, I’m taking the one o’clock train to