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 the house. There were some things I needed to buy at the market—soap, toothpaste, shaving blade, aspirin, such things. When I stepped out, there was only one person in the hall—Uday. I did not speak to him; he was doing nothing, just pacing the room with his arms folded across his chest. Uday is a college student, but he comes and goes as he pleases, has no interest in his studies. I returned from the market at six o’clock. It was not yet dark. I left my purchases in my room and went to the rose garden on the east side. After strolling there for a while, I suddenly noticed something that looked like a human figure lying at the edge of the house. When I went closer, I saw—it was Hena. I shouted for help. The servants came running, as did Jugal and Uday—yes, both of them were at home. Together, we carried the body into the house, then called the police. No, the master was not at home. He is never home on Saturdays and Sundays. I do not know where he stays.

Jugalchandra Samaddar. Age 20. Son of Santosh Samaddar. I am a college student. There were no classes after two today, so I returned home at three. My room is on the second floor, above Rabibarma’s room. I came in, took a book, and lay down on my bed. I must have fallen asleep, because I woke up at exactly half past five. I got up quickly and went downstairs. No, there was no one in the hall. I walked in the rose garden for a while, then came back and went upstairs. Chingri brought me tea and snacks; I ate. Then I went to my room and sat down to study. I was not in the garden for long, fifteen or twenty minutes at most. Let’s say, from half past five to a quarter to six. No, I did not see Rabibarma in the garden. I did not see Hena’s body by the house. After six, I heard shouting downstairs and came down. By then, they were bringing Hena’s body into the house. I was not close to Hena; she was not close to anyone. She did not mix with anyone.

Udaychandra Samaddar. Age 20. Son of Santosh Samaddar. I did not go to college today. In the afternoon, I went to the club to play billiards. The club’s name is Great Eastern Sporting Club. I returned home at half past four. My room is on the second floor, above Hena’s room. I went to my room, changed clothes, and came down to the hall. Why did I come down? I am not obliged to explain. This is my house; I go wherever I please, whenever I please. Question: While you were in the hall, did you see anyone else there? Answer: Rabibarma was in his own room, sometimes coming into the hall. He left, I think, around five o’clock. Question: Anyone else?

Byomkesh Samagra