‘Where are we going this year?’ asked Lalmohan Babu, helping himself to a handful of savoury chana and washing it down with hot tea. ‘It’s now so infernally hot here in Calcutta that I think we’ve got to escape!’ ‘Where would you like to escape to?’ Feluda queried. ‘You’re the one who’s so interested in travelling. I could quite happily remain in Calcutta all year.’ ‘You’re not working on a case right now, are you?’ ‘No.’ ‘Well then, let’s get out of here.’ ‘Yes, but where to?’ ‘To the hills, naturally. I mean mountains . . . and that means the Himalayas. I don’t consider Vindhyachal or the Western Ghats as mountains. Where I want to go, Felu Babu, is where everyone wants to go. Some say your entire life is a waste of time if you haven’t seen this place.’ ‘Where is it?’ ‘Haven’t you guessed, even after so many hints?’ ‘Paradise on earth?’ ‘Exactly. Kashmir. Why don’t we go there, Felu Babu? We’ve both earned quite a lot of money, don’t you think? You haven’t got a family, nor have I. So why don’t we travel when we can, and enjoy ourselves? Do say yes. We could go from here to Delhi, then take a plane to Srinagar.’ ‘Srinagar isn’t the only place worth seeing. There’s Pahalgam, Gulmarg, Khilanmarg—’ ‘OK, OK, we’ll see everything worth seeing. Let’s spend a couple of weeks in Kashmir, shall we? I can’t think of a plot unless I travel. I have to write a new novel before Durga Puja, don’t forget.’ ‘That shouldn’t worry you. Do what everyone else is doing—pinch ideas and events from foreign thrillers.’ ‘Never. You would be the first one to make fun of me if I did. Don’t deny it, Felu Babu, you know you would. Your jibes are sharper than a knife.’ ‘Very well then, shall we stay in a houseboat?’ ‘In Srinagar?’ ‘You can’t stay in houseboats anywhere else. We could take one on Dal Lake. But it will be expensive, let me warn you.’ ‘Who cares? Let’s just have some fun.’ ‘All right, we’ll stay in a houseboat in Srinagar, a tent in Pahalgam and a log cabin in Gulmarg.’ ‘Splendid!’

The idea of going to Kashmir had clearly appealed to Feluda. He went to the tourist office after Lalmohan Babu left and brought back a number of leaflets. ‘Since we’ve made the decision to go there, let’s not waste any time,’ he said. ‘Today’s Monday, isn’t it? We could leave on Saturday.’ ‘It’ll be cold in Kashmir, won’t it?’ ‘Yes, so we must be adequately prepared for it. Lalmohan Babu ought to be warned—he’d feel the cold much more than either of us!’ Our warm clothes were duly fetched from the dry cleaners. We decided to spend the first week in Srinagar. The tourism department booked a houseboat for us. It was large enough for a whole family, so it would suit us perfectly. I tried to imagine what it might feel like to stay in a luxury boat. Perhaps it would be the same as the ‘baujras’ or pleasure boats zamindars had used in Bengal many years ago. I saw in the leaflets that they looked like little cottages. There were also pictures of smaller boats that carried people from one end of the lake to the other. The houseboats remained stationery. ‘There’s such a lot to see in Srinagar!’ I said to Feluda, having read all the literature. ‘Look, there are the Mughal gardens, and the river Jhelum, and lakes, and poplars, eucalyptuses and rows of chinar . . . have you seen these pictures, Feluda? It’s truly beautiful, and so are Pahalgam and Gulmarg. If we can climb up to Khilanmarg at eleven thousand feet, I believe it’s possible to get a wonderful view of Nanga Parvat. Can we see everything in two weeks?’ ‘Oh yes!’ Feluda laughed. We left by air the following Saturday, as planned. This time, we were given seats in different rows. I saw Lalmohan Babu talking animatedly with the gentleman sitting next to him. ‘Who was that man?’ I asked him curiously when we reached the airport in Delhi. ‘He’s called Sushant Som. He works as a secretary. His boss is a retired judge. They’re both going to Srinagar, with some other people, and will also stay in a houseboat. He recognized your cousin, and asked me if we were working on a case. I was tempted to say we were, but then I changed my mind and told him the truth.’ Our flight to Srinagar was not going to leave for another three hours. So we went to the restaurant for a cup of tea. Here we ran into Mr Som. He smiled as he saw us and walked over to our table. ‘My name is Sushant Som,’ he said, shaking hands with Feluda. ‘I am very pleased to meet you. I am one of your many admirers, you see. I’m sure my boss would like to meet you, too.’ Four other men had just walked into the restaurant. Mr Som approached this group, whispering something to the oldest of them. The old gentleman glanced at us, then walked across. Feluda stood up. ‘Please, please, there’s no need to get up,’ said the gentleman. ‘I am Siddheshwar Mallik. I have spent virtually all my life dealing with crime, but this is the first time I have come face to face with a real-life private detective!’ ‘Dealing with crime? You mean—?’ ‘I used to be a judge. I have sent a lot of men to the gallows. Now I’ve retired. My health isn’t what it used to be and I have to travel with a doctor in tow. But this time I am also accompanied by my son, a bearer and my secretary. Sushant is a most efficient man. I really don’t know what I’d do without him.’

‘Will you be staying in Srinagar?’ ‘Yes, but we’d like to visit a few other places.’ ‘We