Five

Before the clock struck four in the afternoon, Pandeyji arrived with the car. He said, "Let’s go, we’ll stop by the thana first. The post-mortem report might have come in."

The three of us reached the police station. It stood in the heart of the city. Ratikanta was present, and with due courtesy, he led us in and seated us in his office. He said, "I’ve just received the post-mortem report—curare has been found. There’s no doubt about the cause of death."

Pandeyji glanced over the report and asked, "And the report on the medicines?"

"That hasn’t come yet. I’ve sent an urgent reminder. Most likely, we’ll have it tonight. Without the medicine report, we can’t begin a proper investigation. Still, I’ve set men to inquire if anyone is smuggling curare."

Pandeyji nodded. "You’ve done right. The thief from whom a vial of curare was once seized—he’s still in jail, isn’t he? If we press him, perhaps we’ll learn who’s running the curare racket."

"Yes, sir. I’ve checked—he’s not in Patna jail now, but in Buxar jail. I’m arranging a meeting with him. Meanwhile, I’ve interrogated Dr. Palit’s compounder."

"Did you get anything?"

"Nothing at all. On the other front, I’ve ordered everyone in Dipnarayanji’s house to remain at home. No outsiders are allowed in, and no one is to leave, except for the manager Gangadhar and his son Liladhar."

Pandeyji said, "We’re heading there now. Will you join us?"

Ratikanta hesitated a moment, then said, "You go ahead. I have an urgent matter to attend to." Then, smiling at Byomkesh, he asked, "Have you formed any impression?"

Byomkesh replied, "No. But it seems to me that no one in the house can be excluded from suspicion."

Ratikanta said, "Not just the family—even the State’s employees cannot be ruled out. Everyone must be examined under a microscope."

Byomkesh asked quietly, "What do you make of Dr. Palit?"

Ratikanta shot a glance at Byomkesh. "Dr. Palit! But he—if he had any motive, would he have done it with his own hands?"

Byomkesh smiled faintly. "Precisely because he did it with his own hands, suspicion will fall on him the least."

We returned to the car and took our seats. Byomkesh asked, "Is Dr. Palit’s dispensary nearby?"

Pandeyji replied, "Just a little way off, on this very road. Shall we stop there?"

"Let’s. We should see the real scene of the crime."

Within two or three minutes, we reached Dr. Palit’s clinic. It, too, stood on the main road, surrounded by shops—no residences nearby. On a winter’s night, by eight o’clock, all the shops are shuttered. Then, for a thief, breaking a lock and slipping inside would be no trouble at all.

The doctor’s chamber was utterly unremarkable. Two rooms, one in front and one behind; in the front, patients would come and sit, while the doctor sat in the inner room. The compounder prepared medicines in that same inner room.

Both the compounder and the doctor were present, and a