‘How do you find things, Felu Babu? What conclusions have you drawn?’ Lalmohan Babu asked, helping himself to a large handful of daalmut. We had returned from Bosepukur about fifteen minutes ago, and Srinath had just brought in tea and daalmut for all of us. Feluda lit a Charminar. ‘What has become clear is that it’s not just a case of one jatra company trying to harm another. There’s much more to it than that. We cannot eliminate the two brothers, although we’ve learnt nothing about them except that neither cared for Indranarayan. If one of them was in need of money, he might well have had a motive to kill. If their father has made a will, he will now have to change it. Naturally, the two remaining brothers will get much more now than they’d have got otherwise.’ ‘I didn’t like Devnarayan. Have you ever seen anyone so cold and unfriendly?’ ‘We shouldn’t judge anyone simply after one meeting in their house. I’d like to see both brothers in their clubs. At least, I want to find out what they do there.’ ‘How will you manage that?’ ‘Easy. Two of my old classmates are members. They’ll be able to tell me. The one who goes to the Saturday Club is called Bhaskar Deb. The other’s a member of the Bengal Club. He’s called Animesh Som.’ ‘I’ve only heard of these clubs. Never been inside any of them.’ ‘You wouldn’t find anything in there that might amuse or interest you, Lalmohan Babu. You don’t drink or play cards or billiards, do you? What would you do in a club?’ ‘Yes, that’s very true.’ Feluda stood up and got to work, although it took seven attempts to get through to Animesh Som. After a few minutes of conversation, he put the phone down and told us what his friend had said. Apparently, Devnarayan went to his club regularly and spent most of his time drinking. He didn’t seem interested in either playing a game or in meeting people. But he read all the newspapers that came from London. And rumour had it that there was labour unrest in his office. The workers might go on strike any day. Feluda picked up the phone again and rang Bhaskar Deb. This time, he got through at once. This is how his conversation went: ‘It that Bhaskar? This is Felu, Pradosh Mitter.’ ‘You are a member of the Saturday Club, aren’t you?’ ‘I wonder if you can tell me something about one of your members, Harinarayan Acharya?’ ‘Yes, yes, he’s the one whose brother was killed. What kind of man is Harinarayan? You must know him.’

‘What? A gambler? Plays poker, does he, on high stakes? Have you ever played with him? He must have got that trait from his great grandfather.’ ‘In debt? And that debt is increasing every day? Why doesn’t he stop? Good heavens, it must be a serious problem if . . . anyway, thanks a lot, you’ve been