‘Back to square one, Felu Babu?’ Lalmohan Babu asked. We were back in our houseboat in Srinagar, and were sitting on the upper deck, having tea. ‘Yes, so it would seem,’ Feluda replied solemnly. ‘Crime and mysteries seem to chase me every time I go on holiday and plan to relax for a while. But I must admit I have never felt so puzzled in my life. There’s nothing I can work on, no leads at all.’ He finished his tea and lit a Charminar. Then, after a brief pause, he added, ‘I ought to ask Mr Som to lend me Mr Mallik’s diaries.’ ‘Why? What good would that do?’ ‘That’s difficult to tell. But of course I’ll have to get Mr Mallik’s permission. That’s why I must ask Mr Som.’ ‘You can do that right away. Look, there he is!’ Mr Som was in a shikara, returning from the Boulevard. Judging by the parcels in the boat, he had been out shopping. Feluda leant over the railing and called, ‘Hello Mr Som! Could you stop here for a moment?’ Mr Som’s shikara slowly made its way to our boat. ‘Did you bring Mr Mallik’s diaries with you?’ Feluda asked. ‘Yes, all twenty-four of them.’ ‘Do you think I might borrow them? I mean, two or three at a time? I couldn’t really work on this case unless I learnt something more about Mr Mallik and his family. The diaries might help.’ ‘All right, let me ask him.’ ‘Thank you.’ ‘I don’t think he’ll object. He has already told you so much about his life.’ Mr Som left, but returned half an hour later with four old diaries. ‘Mr Mallik agreed at once,’ he told us. ‘He said once his book is. published, everyone will come to know everything, anyway. In any case, the criminal cases he talks about were all reported in the press, so they’re no secrets.’ ‘Thank you. I will let you know when I finish these, and get a few more . . . Topshe, why don’t you and Lalmohan Babu go and see Manasbal Lake? I need to stay indoors to work.’ ‘Oh by the way,’ said Mr Som. ‘Aren’t you planning to go to Pahalgam?’ ‘Yes, we certainly are.’ ‘When do you want to go? It might be better if you came with us. We’re going there the day after tomorrow.’ ‘Very well.’

I stared at Manasbal Lake in wonder. Its water was so clear that I could see all the underwater vegetation. I had never seen a lake with such amazingly clear water. Lalmohan Babu was similarly impressed, but I could see that he was thinking about Feluda and his investigation. ‘I can’t see why your cousin is reading all those diaries,’ he remarked after a while. ‘Surely those who have been hanged already will not come back to commit a fresh crime?’ ‘No, but Feluda must have his own reasons.’ Manasbal was eighteen miles from Srinagar. By the time we got back, it was half past six. Feluda was still in the living room, reading a diary. ‘I have finished reading eleven of them,’ he told us. ‘Each one was interesting.’ ‘Really? But did it do you any good? I mean, can you now see your way forward?’ ‘It isn’t always’ possible to tell in advance what good a certain activity might do. All I am interested in, right now, is gathering information; and I’ve learnt some new things today, not only from the diaries. For instance, Vijay Mallik came and told me that when he was pushed, he felt something cold and metallic touch his neck. I think it was a ring, but that doesn’t really help because three people were wearing rings yesterday—Mr Som, Mr Sarkar and Prayag. If the culprit was someone outside this group, there’s no way we can catch him. Dozens of people must wear rings.’ ‘Yes, but how many went to Khilanmarg yesterday?’ ‘I can remember a group of Punjabis. There were five of them. Three were on horseback.’ ‘I don’t think anything unpleasant is going to happen now, Felu Babu.’ ‘I hope you are right. Who wants problems in paradise, especially when I can’t exercise my brain?’ Feluda finished reading the remaining diaries the next day. ‘What did they tell you?’ Lalmohan Babu asked. ‘There were six cases, in which Mr Mallik seemed sure that the accused should have been sent to prison, not hung. He was very unhappy about the sentences he had himself passed. One case in particular involved a Kashmiri called Sapru. Mr Mallik felt such remorse after sentencing him to death that he developed angina soon afterwards, and had to retire.’ Pahalgam was sixty miles from Srinagar. It was a small town in the Lidar valley. The river Lidar flowed by its side. It was not a large river, but moved with considerable force. Many foreigners came to catch trout in it. Snow-covered mountains were visible from Pahalgam. A few hotels had been built recently, but it was still possible to stay in tents by the river. That was what we decided to do. We left in four taxis, and reached Pahalgam by twelve o’clock. To the west of the river stood hills, without any sign of habitation. To the east lay the town, complete with hotels, restaurants and shops. Like everything else we had seen so far in Kashmir, it looked absolutely enchanting. When we arrived, our tents were being put up. They were special tents, almost like apartments, including bedrooms, dining rooms and even attached bathrooms. We had one tent; Mr Mallik had been given two. The river was only about twenty yards away. The sound of its gushing waters did not stop even for a second. ‘I had seen people live like this only in Hollywood westerns,’ Lalmohan Babu enthused. ‘Who knew one day I would be staying outdoors?’ After lunch, we saw Mr Som making his way to our tent.

‘Have you had lunch?’ he asked. ‘Yes,