In the afternoon, A. K. Ray himself arrived, carrying a copy of the deposition. Today, his demeanor was entirely different. He joked with us, shared a few amusing stories, and proved that Byomkesh, instead of joining the police, was chasing wild buffaloes on an empty stomach. He partook of refreshments appropriate to the hour; then, at last, he turned to business. Handing the file of the deposition to Byomkesh, he said, “Here you go, have a read. But it won’t be of any use to you.”

Raising his brows, Byomkesh asked, “Why won’t it be of use?”

A. K. Ray replied, “According to the police department, Hena’s death is nothing but an accident. Further investigation is pointless.”

Byomkesh gazed at him for a moment, then said, “Have you heard about the fire?”

A. K. Ray answered, “I have. That was a coincidence. There’s no evidence that anyone set the fire deliberately.”

Byomkesh fixed him with a sharp look, then turned his gaze to the window.

At last, he said, “So, the task Santoshbabu gave me is finished. There’s no longer any need to protect his family’s interests.”

A. K. Ray laughed. “No. You can assure him the police won’t trouble his family any further. —By the way, when I heard about the fire, I went to Santoshbabu’s house. He was there. Yesterday, the photograph found in Hena’s drawer—I showed it to him. He said it was a picture of Hena’s mother.”

Byomkesh nodded. “What did the post-mortem reveal?”

A. K. Ray replied, “Nothing more than what one would expect in such a case. One of the ribs was broken and pierced the heart, causing instant death. No other complications.”

“Time of death?”

“Between five-thirty and six.”

Then, after a few more jokes, A. K. Ray clapped Byomkesh on the back and took his leave. Byomkesh sat in silence for a long while.

I asked, “Is A. K. Ray a very clever man?”

Byomkesh looked at me and said, “His intelligence is second to none.”

I said, “His only fault is being with the police.”

“Yes, his only fault is being with the police.” Byomkesh picked up the file of depositions.

Half an hour later, having finished reading, he handed the file to me and said, “There’s nothing special, but you can take a look. —I’ll step out for a bit.”

“Where are you going?”

“It’s been a while since I visited the shop. I’ll go see what Prabhat is up to.”

He left. I opened the file and began to read the depositions—

Rabindranath Barman. Age 39. One of Santosh Samaddar’s secretaries. Lives at Santoshbabu’s house. Salary: 350 rupees. Today is Saturday. After the master left for the office, I returned around half-past three...

Magmoinaak

I arrived. I did not notice where Hena was at that moment. She was probably in her own room. I rested in my room for a while. At half past four, the servant brought tea and snacks; I ate. Then, around five o’clock, I left