We returned to Bosepukur at ten on Saturday morning. The first person we met was Harinarayan’s daughter, Leena. She had heard a private investigator had been hired and was eager to talk to us. It turned out that she was also an admirer of Feluda’s, so talking to her became easier. ‘Your uncle was very fond of you, wasn’t he?’ Feluda began. ‘Yes, but it wasn’t just that. We were more like friends. He used to read out to me everything he wrote and ask for my views. If I wanted anything changed, if something didn’t sound right, I’d say so; and Uncle would then change it.’ ‘What about songs?’ ‘Those, too. I was always the first to hear a new song.’ ‘Are you fond of music?’ ‘I’m learning to play the piano.’ ‘Western music?’ ‘Yes, but I like Indian music, too. I loved my uncle’s music. I can sing a little.’ ‘Did your uncle ever tell you he was thinking of leaving Bharat Opera?’ ‘I knew that Binapani had offered him a lot of money. But I don’t think he’d have left Bharat. He often used to tell me his roots were with Bharat. If he plucked those out, he couldn’t live anywhere else.’ ‘He was writing a new play. Did you know about this?’ ‘Yes, There were many other plays he had written. I don’t think anyone knows about them. Samrat Ashok wasn’t finished. These others are all complete, but none of them has been staged. Besides, there must be at least twenty new songs that haven’t been used. And rough drafts for more plays . . . you know, just ideas jotted down, outlines written. There may be ten or twelve of those.’ We were talking to Leena in Mr Mallik’s room, which was next to the library. He had told us as we had arrived that his research was now complete, and he was going to return to his house in Serampore to write his book. ‘But you are aware, aren’t you, that you cannot leave this house until this whole business has been settled?’ Feluda asked him. ‘Oh yes, the police made that very clear.’ ‘If you leave, who will work as Keertinarayan’s secretary?’ ‘I’ll get someone else to replace me, that shouldn’t be a problem. Once I get busy writing that biography, I won’t have time for anything else.’ Feluda got up and began pacing, inspecting the room and occasionally staring out to check what else could be seen from it. I followed his gaze and realized that one could see the door to Indranarayan’s study. From the library, however, neither his study nor his bedroom was visible.

Through another window in Mr Mallik’s room one could get a view of the lane that ran behind the house. It was called Jodu Naskar Lane, I remembered. Feluda finished his questions. Leena had already told her father about us. Now she took us to meet him in a sitting room on the first floor. It