Pulak Ghoshal and his team left. We had finished our coffee, so Feluda rose to his feet. ‘We ought to leave now, I think,’ he said. ‘I hope we shall soon meet again.’ ‘Pardon?’ said Mr Majumdar, sounding as though he was miles away. But then he pulled himself together, and said quite naturally, ‘Oh, all right. Yes, I hope so, too.’ We came out of Nayanpur Villa and began walking back to our hotel. Feluda didn’t say a word on the way back. For some reason, he also seemed rather preoccupied. But, over lunch, he turned to Lalmohan Babu and said, ‘Why, Mr Ganguli, you are a dark horse! We’ve known you for years, and yet you didn’t tell us about your acting career! You played a difficult role in a play, did you?’ Lalmohan Babu transferred a piece of a fish-fry into his mouth, and said, ‘Well, to be honest, Felu Babu, there are loads of things about myself that I have never mentioned. I was the North Calcutta Carrom Champion in 1959, did you know this? I have many records in endurance cycling. Then I won a medal in a recitation competition—not once, mind you, but three times. This is not the first time I’ve had an offer to act in a film. Even twenty years ago, I had received such an offer. This bald dome that you now see was then covered by thick, curly hair. Can you imagine that? but I didn’t accept that offer. No, sir. My mind was already made up. I wanted to become a professional writer, just to see if it was possible to earn enough simply by writing. An astrologer had told me it would work. “There’s magic in your pen, you must write,” he had said. He was right. But I never thought so much success would come my way.’ ‘I see. There is one little thing I must point out, Lalmohan Babu.’ ‘What?’ ‘You said you gave up smoking ten years ago. Now if you are made to smoke a cigar, the result may well be disastrous.’ ‘Hey, you’re quite right. What do you think I should do?’ ‘I suggest you buy some cigars and start practising. Don’t inhale the smoke. If you do, you’re bound to start coughing and that will mean the end of every shot.’ ‘Yes, thank you for the advice, sir.’ We had a little rest in the afternoon, then we left for a walk at four o’clock. We wanted to walk to the Observatory Hill. There was a wonderful view of Kanchenjunga one could get from the northern side of the hill. Lalmohan Babu bought a packet of “cigars from the first tobacconist he could find. The first drag very nearly resulted in disaster, but he managed to avoid it somehow. I noticed a cigar in his hand had brought about a change in his whole personality. He seemed a lot more sure of himself, striding

ahead with great confidence, looking around with a slight smile on his lips. He had clearly started to play the role of Aghorchand Batlivala. The next left turn brought Kanchenjunga into view. The last rays of the sun were shining directly on it, making it glow like a column of gold. Lalmohan Babu opened his mouth, but refrained from bursting into adjectives. By the time we returned to the Mall after going round the hill, it was past five and the sun had disappeared behind the hill. A small crowd had gathered near the horse-stand. A closer look revealed the film crew, who were returning after a day’s shooting, followed by a large number of onlookers. But the people seemed pretty civilized, so I didn’t think they would create any disturbances. Raina and Verma both had to stop a few times to sign autographs. Then the whole group turned left into Nehru Road and went in the direction of their hotel. ‘Good evening!’ called a voice. It was Birupaksha Majumdar, riding his horse. He climbed down as we got closer. ‘I forgot to tell you something this morning,’ he continued, lowering his voice. ‘I heard this from my mali, so I couldn’t tell you how reliable his information is.’ ‘What did he tell you?’ ‘Apparently, over the last few days, a man has been seen lurking outside our gate, keeping an eye on the house.’ ‘You don’t say!’ ‘My mali has been with me for years; I don’t really have any reason not to believe him.’ ‘Has he been able to describe this man?’ ‘Yes, but not very well. All he’s told me is that the man is of medium height and is unshaven. He disappears behind a tree each time the mali tries to get a closer look. But he smokes, for the mali has seen some smoke rising from behind the tree.’ ‘Can you think of a reason why anyone should want to keep an eye on your house?’ ‘Yes. There is a valuable object in my house. It is a statue of Krishna, made of ashtadhatu. It used to be in a temple in Nayanpur. Many people here have seen it, and many others might know that I have it with me.’ ‘Where do you keep it?’ ‘On a shelf in my bedroom.’ ‘Don’t you keep it under lock and key?’ ‘I stay awake all night, and I always have my revolver close at hand. So I don’t think a burglar would get very far, even if he broke into my house.’ ‘Might there be some other reason why anyone would wish to attack your house?’ ‘All I can tell you is that there is every possibility someone may wish to harm me. Please don’t ask me to explain—I’m afraid I couldn’t tell you more. If something untoward does happen, Mr Mitter, can I count on your support?’ ‘Of course. That goes without saying.’ ‘Thank you. I feel a lot better now.’ At this moment, a man of about thirty was seen walking towards