It was past twelve o’clock by the time we got back home. We invited Lalmohan Babu to have lunch with us, and he agreed. ‘A remarkable woman!’ he said, turning the regulator of our fan to its maximum speed, and stretching out on his favourite couch. ‘So calm and collected even at a time like this—and look at her brother! Just the opposite, isn’t he?’ ‘Perhaps that is why she is so fond of her brother,’ Feluda mused. ‘Feelings and emotions are a complex business, Lalmohan Babu. I think what Mrs Munshi feels for her brother is more than just sympathy and compassion. She is protective, like a mother. Don’t forget she has not got children of her own, nor is she close to her stepson. Her brother has probably always been like a child to her.’ ‘Besides, they are twins. So naturally they are close.’ ‘Right.’ ‘Do you think she did not get on very well with her husband?’ ‘I couldn’t say, Lalmohan Babu, without a degree of intimacy with the Munshi family. In my job, I have to make my deductions solely from what my eyes and ears tell me.’ ‘What did your ears tell you in this case?’ ‘Something struck me as odd.’ ‘What did?’ ‘You should have realized it too. I am surprised you didn’t.’ Now I felt I had to tell him what was bothering me. ‘Could it be that she has read Dr Munshi’s diary? Is that what you mean, Feluda?’ ‘Well done, Topshe! That’s the impression I got from what she said.’ ‘Why, Felu Babu, Dr Munshi could simply have told her what he had written in his diary. How do you know she read it?’ ‘Maybe she didn’t. But it’s the same thing, isn’t it? The point is that she knows what that diary contained.’ ‘I realized something when I read that manuscript, Felu Babu. Dr Munshi clearly had a lot of affection for his wife. The very first page proved that. I mean, if he was indifferent to her, why should he have dedicated his book to his wife?’ ‘Yes, that’s a good point.’ ‘I picked up something else. I use my ears, too, you know. Dr Munshi’s son may feel his father ignored him and was uncaring. But he was kind and generous to his secretary. So he could not have been a totally uncaring man, could he?’ ‘Good, good!’ said Feluda somewhat absently and began pacing up and down. A minute later, Lalmohan Babu asked, ‘What’s bothering you now?’

‘Just this: there is only one name among the three that we don’t know. Who is R? My enquiries would never be complete unless I can find out who he is. But I suppose I’ll just have to . . .’ Feluda was interrupted by the telephone. It was a new instrument. Its ring was louder and sharper than the old one. Feluda answered it. It was an incredible call, a perfect example of what Feluda refers to as telepathy.