Jayant Biswas rang us later, as promised. The police had been meticulous in their search, but the necklace had not been found. They had even questioned the servants, to no avail. ‘I’ll come over, Mr Biswas,’ Feluda told him. ‘Now I’ll start my own investigation. It won’t clash with what the police are doing, I assure you.’ We took a taxi from the hotel, crossed the Gomti bridge and reached Mr Biswas’s house. It still wore a rather forlorn air. Suleman opened the door once more and showed us into the living room. Mr Biswas was seated on a sofa. He rose as we entered the room. ‘They couldn’t find it,’ he said, shaking his head sadly. ‘That’s hardly surprising. A clever thief like that would never leave it lying about, would he?’ ‘Would you like to search the house yourself?’ ‘No, no. I only want to speak to everyone in your family. Who is at home right now?’ ‘My wife, my daughter and Mr Som. I don’t think my son is back yet.’ ‘I see. I also need to talk to Mr Saldanha and Mr Sukius.’ ‘That shouldn’t be a problem. I’ll give you their addresses.’ ‘Very well. Let me start with you.’ ‘Go ahead. You wouldn’t mind a cup of tea, would you?’ ‘No, that would be very nice, thank you.’ Suleman was told to get four cups of tea. Feluda lit a Charminar and began his questions. ‘You told the police Mr Sukius had wanted to buy that necklace. How long ago was that?’ ‘About a year ago.’ ‘How did he learn about the necklace?’ ‘Lots of people know about it. It’s been written about more than once. When my mother-in-law died, the Pioneer published a short biography which mentioned the necklace. Sukius is really a moneylender. I mean, that’s how he’s made his money. Normally, one doesn’t associate a moneylender with anything as refined as art and aesthetics. But Sukius is different. I have been to his house. He has exquisite taste.’ ‘How did he react when you refused to sell the necklace?’ ‘He was naturally very disappointed. He had offered two hundred thousand. I might have agreed, but my wife wouldn’t dream of parting with it. And now, the very same . . .’ he left his sentence unfinished and sighed. ‘Do you suspect anyone?’ ‘No. I still feel perfectly amazed. I cannot believe one of my old and trusted servants did it. Yet, who else would have stolen it? Why would they do such a thing?’

‘You are a businessman, aren’t you?’ ‘Well yes, I have a small firm. We handle exports and imports.’ ‘How well are you doing?’ ‘Not bad, Mr Mitter. I have a partner. We run the firm together.’ ‘What’s he called?’ ‘Tribhuvan Nagar. We began our careers as clerks in a merchant firm. Thirty years ago, we gave that up and formed our own company.’ ‘What’s the name of your company? ‘Modern Imports & Exports.’ ‘Where is your office?’ ‘Hazratganj.’