Our hotel was large and comfortable, but not all that expensive. ‘Mr Majumdar’s travel agent is a sensible fellow, I must say,’ Lalmohan Babu commented. He seemed very pleased with everything he saw, from the underground stations to the red double-decker buses. ‘See how handsome these buses are?’ he said admiringly, looking out of the window. ‘We have double-decker buses too. Why do you think ours look as though they’ve been chewed and then spat out?’ After lunch, Feluda said, ‘If you’re not feeling tired, go and have a walk down Oxford Street. You’ll see London at its busiest.’ ‘What about you? What are you going to do?’ ‘I am going to call my friend, Bikash Datta. Didn’t I tell you I had a friend here? Let’s see if he can give us any information.’ We were not particularly tired, so we decided to go out. Feluda managed to get through to his friend almost immediately. When he rang off, he was smiling. ‘Bikash was amazed to hear my enquiries had brought me to London. But he told me something useful.’ ‘What?’ ‘There’s an old doctor here—an Indian, who came to London as a medical student soon after the Second World War, then stayed on to work as a GP. A man called Nishanath Sen. He is apparently, a very kind and helpful man. He might have known Mr Majumdar’s father. Bikash gave me the address of his clinic. I think I’ll try meeting him.’ Feluda got to his feet. ‘If we must take shots in the dark, we may as well start with Dr Sen.’ We left the hotel together. Feluda went in the direction of the tube station, having told us how to find Oxford Street. Lalmohan Babu and I pulled out woollen scarves and wound them round our necks as we began walking. October in London was decidedly cool. There were plenty of Indians on the street, which was probably why Lalmohan Babu said, ‘I feel quite at home, dear Tapesh. Mind you, the roads are so good here that that is enough to remind me I am not at home!’ A little later, staring wide-eyed at the milling crowds on Oxford Street, he exclaimed, ‘A sea of humanity, Tapesh! A veritable ocean!’ What was amazing was the speed with which everyone was walking. Why was every single person in such a hurry? We had to increase our own pace, or we’d have been trampled in the rush. The street was lined with huge departmental stores, with the most tempting objects in their show windows. I could now see the famous names I had only heard of: Marks & Spencer, Boots, Debenhams, D. H. Evans, John Lewis. Selfridges, I knew, was at one end of Oxford Street. But I had no idea it was so big.

‘Let’s go in,’ I said and pushed Lalmohan Babu through a revolving door. Neither of us had ever seen anything like it. It was crammed with people. We could hardly take