Seventeen

The three of us sat in our baithak-khana. Prabhat and I took the chairs; Byomkesh sat cross-legged on the taktaposh, the bag of books beside him. It was nearly two in the morning; outside, the city’s murmur had faded into silence.

Byomkesh’s face was grave, tinged with melancholy. He glanced up at Prabhat with a look of stern reproach; but Prabhat’s face bore no trace of guilt. The shock and fear that had overwhelmed him at the moment of his capture had vanished. Now he seemed entirely composed, ready for whatever might come.

Byomkesh drew the books out of the bag, one by one. Bound in brown board, they were not much to look at from the outside. But when Byomkesh opened their pages, a sudden thrill nearly took my breath away. Every single page of every book was a one-hundred-rupee note.

Byomkesh examined each book in turn, then set them aside, and asked Prabhat,

'How much are all the books worth in total?'

Prabhat replied, 'About two lakhs. I have spent some of it.'

'Apart from the money you gave Dayalhari Majumdar, did you spend anything else?'

A flicker of surprise flashed in Prabhat’s eyes; the question of how Byomkesh knew so much seemed to peer out from his gaze. But he asked nothing, merely said, 'There were some other expenses, altogether fourteen or fifteen thousand.'

Byomkesh then placed his hand upon the books and said in a calm voice, 'Prabhatbabu, was it for these that you killed Anadi Halder?'

Prabhat shook his head firmly. 'No, Byomkeshbabu.'

'Then will you tell me why you did it?'

Prabhat opened his mouth as if to speak, then closed it again without a word.

Byomkesh said, 'If you won’t say it, then I shall. —Anadi Halder broke off your engagement to Shiuli and wanted to marry her himself. That was the reason—am I right?'

For a while, Prabhat sat with his head buried in his chest. When he finally looked up, the veins in his temples stood out. The savagery I had noticed in the set of his teeth became starkly visible as he spoke, his voice choked, 'Yes. Anadi Halder bribed Shiuli’s father with five thousand rupees to make him agree—' He broke off there, sitting in silence, as if swelling with the fire within.

Byomkesh said, 'So my guess was correct. —But why did you try to kill Kestobabu?'

Forgetting his anger, Prabhat looked at Byomkesh in astonishment. 'What! Kestobabu? I know nothing about him!'

Byomkesh pierced Prabhat with a gaze bristling with suspicion. 'You didn’t kill Kesto Das?'

Prabhat replied, 'No, Byomkeshbabu. In the past eight months, Kestobabu took eight thousand rupees from me. When I heard he was dead, I was glad; but I did not kill him. Believe me, if I had, I would not deny it to you now.'

Byomkesh’s face gradually brightened, the gloom that had shrouded his mind like a mist seemed to lift. He said, 'But then, who killed Kesto Das?'

'I