‘UK!’ Lalmohan Babu stared, his eyes round with surprise. Feluda had just finished telling him of the latest developments. He was clearly not prepared for a visit to the UK. ‘You will have to bear your own expenses, Lalmohan Babu. Mr Majumdar is paying for Topshe and myself.’ ‘I know that. I can afford the trip, I assure you. You may be a busy and famous detective, but don’t forget I earn much more than you. Just tell me what I have to do.’ ‘Take enough warm clothes to last you a week. I hope you haven’t lost your passport?’ ‘No, sir. It’s kept carefully in my almirah.’ ‘In that case, you have to do nothing else except pay Mr Majumdar whatever is required in Indian rupees. He will make your bookings and arrange foreign exchange. His travel agent is handling all the arrangements.’ ‘Where are we going to stay in London?’ ‘Probably in a three-star hotel.’ ‘Why only three star?’ ‘Because if he tried to climb any higher, Mr Majumdar might well go bankrupt. Do you have any idea how expensive London hotels are?’ ‘No. Tell you what, I’ve just thought of something. One of my neighbours is a businessman. He goes abroad every year. He might be able to give me a few extra dollars. What do you say?’ ‘It would be going against the law.’ ‘Please, Felu Babu, you don’t always have to act like a saint. Everyone tries to take extra foreign exchange. That doesn’t make them all criminals, does it?’ ‘Very well, Mr Jatayu. I agree, much against my better judgement, mind you.’ We were booked to travel by Air-India on a Tuesday. The plane would leave Calcutta soon after midnight and go to Bombay, where we would catch a connecting flight to London. The hotel we were booked at was called the Regent Palace, in Piccadilly Circus. Feluda said it was a very good place to be in, right in the heart of the city. He had been reading a lot of guide books on London, and studying various maps. He rang Mr Majumdar the day before we left. I heard him speak for a couple of minutes, then he said goodbye and rang off. ‘I asked him if his father had been attached to a hospital, but he said he did not know; nor could he remember where they used to live. Never mind, one of my friends is a doctor in London. Let’s see if he can help.’ Feluda’s work had taken us to so many different places, but I never thought we’d go to London. When Lalmohan Babu arrived to pick us up on his way to the airport, he said, ‘I was trying to tell myself to stay calm for, after all, every Tom, Dick and Harry goes to London these days. But I just

couldn’t help getting excited. Do you know what my pulse rate was this morning.’ One hundred and ten. Normally it never goes beyond eighty.’ It