Two days later, Feluda’s ad came out in the Times. Surprisingly enough, someone rang Feluda the very next day at 8 a.m. ‘A man called Archibald Cripps,’ Feluda told me, replacing the receiver. ‘He sounded rather aggressive. But he said he could tell me something about Peter Dexter. He’ll be here in half an hour. Go and tell Lalmohan Babu. This may prove to be quite interesting.’ Lalmohan Babu was dressed and ready. He came over to our room and said he had never dreamt a little notice like that would fetch such a quick result. At a quarter past nine, someone knocked at our door. The man who entered looked as rough as were his manners. He glared at Lalmohan Babu and said, ‘Well? Who’re you? Mitter?’ ‘No, no. He is,’ Lalmohan Babu pointed quickly at Feluda. ‘I am Cripps,’ our visitor scowled. ‘What do you want to know about Dexter?’ ‘To start with, where is he now?’ ‘He is in heaven.’ ‘Oh, I am sorry to hear that. When did he die?’ ‘Many years ago, when he was in Cambridge.’ ‘Was he a student there?’ ‘Yeah. Like an idiot, he tried to row on the river Cam.’ ‘Why should that make him an idiot?’ ‘Because he couldn’t swim, that’s why. The boat capsized. He drowned.’ ‘He had many siblings, didn’t he?’ ‘Yeah. Five brothers and two sisters. I only know what happened to two of them—George, who was the eldest and Reginald, the youngest. George was in the Indian Army. He came back after your independence. He used to say only the Sikhs and Gurkhas were any good in India. The rest were either crooks or just bloody idle. None of the Dexters liked Indian niggers.’ ‘Niggers? There are no niggers in India, Mr Cripps. In fact, even in America, blacks are no longer called niggers.’ Feluda’s face was set. ‘You appear to be in agreement with the Dexters, Mr Cripps,’ he added. ‘You bet I am! They were right, absolutely right.’ ‘In that case, I don’t want this conversation to go any further. Thank you for your time.’ The coldness in Feluda’s voice seemed to soften Mr Cripps. ‘Look here,’ he said a shade more politely. ‘I didn’t mean to offend you.’ ‘No?’ ‘No. I said all that because Reginald’s name came up. He was the youngest of the lot. He’s still in India, in a tea estate. But he won’t be there for long.’

There was a pause. Feluda simply stared at Mr Cripps, saying nothing. ‘—Because he has cancer,’ Cripps went on. ‘He went to India just to make money. He has no affection for the country.’ Feluda stood up. ‘Thank you, Mr Cripps. I don’t need to learn anything more.’ Cripps got to his feet, looking rather uncertain. Then he said, ‘Good day!’ and strode out of the room. ‘What an awful man! But you set him straight, Felu Babu. I am very glad about that. I mean, putting an Englishman in his place