Feluda rang Mr Mallik from his room the following morning. I picked up the extension in our living room and heard the whole conversation. ‘Hello, Mr Mallik?’ ‘Yes, how are you?’ ‘Fine, thanks. Is everything all right?’ ‘Why, yes! I think so.’ ‘Could you please do something for me? Go and see if everything’s OK in Indranarayan’s study. Yes, I’ll hold.’ Mr Mallik disappeared, but was back in thirty seconds. ‘Oh my God, Mr Mitter, there’s been a disaster!’ ‘Disaster? What’s happened?’ ‘Every new play and all the new songs have gone.’ ‘I had guessed as much. That’s why I rang.’ ‘What can it mean?’ ‘Another mystery has been added to all the others, that’s all.’ ‘Will you come here now?’ ‘I’ll go, if need be. But before that I must speak to the police.’ Feluda replaced the receiver, then picked it up again to dial Inspector Poddar’s number. ‘Hello, Mr Poddar? Thank you every much for removing your man from duty last night. It really worked. I hope you’re keeping an eye on Ashwini Bhaur. He stole some valuable papers from Indranarayan Acharya’s room last night.’ ‘This man is a crook,’ Mr Poddar said. ‘He cannot even give us a proper alibi. He left the deceased alive and well, he says, but apparently Bhaur did not return home immediately. His story is that he took a taxi and it broke down on the way. I don’t think that’s true. What progress have you made?’ ‘I have made good progress, I should say, but you may not agree with some of my views or accept my conclusion since we’ve approached this case from different angles.’ ‘Never mind the angle or your views. All I want is that the culprit should be caught.’ I knew Feluda was not going to tell me what he had meant by different angles, so I didn’t even bother to ask. Feluda said goodbye to Inspector Poddar and told me he was going out. ‘I have to put in an advertisement in the personal column of the Statesman. I’m in need of a good violin.’ A small advertisement appeared the next day. If anyone wanted to sell a violin, preferably made abroad and in good condition, they were asked to write to a box number. Two days later, Feluda received a response to this advertisement. He read the letter and said, ‘Lowdon Street. That’s where I have to go.’ An hour later, he was back.

‘They were asking for far too much,’ he announced, looking glum. ‘Is this sudden interest in a violin simply the result of reading that encyclopaedia? You mean you seriously want to learn to play it, at your age?’ ‘It is,’ declared Feluda solemnly, ‘never too late to learn.’ This mystified me even more, but Feluda refused to say another word. Lalmohan Babu turned up later in the day and took me aside to make a complaint. ‘I like everything about your cousin, Tapesh, except his habit of sinking into silence every