Five

When we reached Anadi Haldar’s residence, it was half past four in the night. Calcutta, after its raucous revelry until midnight, now slumbered in the depths of the late hours.

The main door downstairs was open. There was no one in the stairwell. Sasthi Babu, it seemed, had retired to bed, exhausted. Ascending the stairs, we found the latch on the door broken; the door itself was intact, but the latch had been snapped off and flung aside. We entered the room with Byomkesh leading the way.

At our entrance, a commotion seemed to ripple through the room. Yet there were only three people present: Nonibala, Prabhat, and Napa. All three sprang up in alarm. Napa cried out, ‘Who? Who is it? What do you want?’ Then, catching sight of Kesto Babu behind us, she fell silent. Nonibala, her fleshy face agape, involuntarily exclaimed in a loud voice, ‘Ah, Byomkesh Babu.’ She did not seem particularly pleased to see us. Prabhat stared on, vacant as a simpleton.

Byomkesh cast his gaze around the room and addressed Nonibala, ‘Kesto Babu brought me here. The police haven’t arrived yet?’

Nonibala shook her head. When Byomkesh turned his eyes to Napa, she stammered in confusion, ‘You—Byomkesh Babu, that is—’

Byomkesh said, ‘Yes. This is my friend Ajit Bandyopadhyay. Perhaps you remember we came the other day. You went to call the police, didn’t you? What happened?’

Napa seemed bewildered, then startled, she replied, ‘The police—yes, I went to the thana. There was no one there, just a constable with his feet up on the table, fast asleep. When I told him, he got angry and said, “Go, go, a Hindu has died, what’s all this fuss about? Throw the body out on the street.” I was leaving when he called me back and said, “Leave the address, when the inspector comes in the morning, we’ll let him know.” So I gave Anadi Babu’s name and address and came back.’

There was nothing new in the police’s habitual indifference in some cases and excessive zeal in others; in fact, out of habit, I had hoped the police would come running as soon as they heard the news. Byomkesh stood for a moment, brows furrowed, then looked up and said, ‘You all suspect Kesto Babu of murdering Anadi Babu. On his behalf, I wish to investigate this matter. Does anyone object?’

No one replied; all averted their eyes, avoiding Byomkesh’s gaze. Then Byomkesh asked, ‘The body is on the balcony—has anyone touched it?’

Everyone shook their heads in denial.

We then entered the balcony. An electric lamp glowed against the wall, and in its unwavering light we saw Anadi Haldar’s corpse lying on its side on the floor, face turned toward the street. He wore a white thermal vest, over which was a dressing gown. Across his chest—

Adimriphu 451

The quilt had slipped off; there was a hole in the vest, and through that hole, dark blood had oozed out and dripped onto