It was a small report, published in one of the dailies. The actor from Apsara Theatre, Mahitosh Roy, had disappeared. Apparently, he used to go for a walk by the lake in the evening, unless there was a show. The day before yesterday—on Monday, that is—he was free, so he went for his walk, but did not return. His bearer informed the police, but he had not been found as yet. Feluda seemed annoyed when he read the report. ‘I told him to be careful,’ he said, frowning. ‘I said he shouldn’t take any undue risks. Who asked him to leave his house and go out purely unnecessarily? Still, I suppose I ought to visit his house since he did come to me for help. Do you remember his address?’ ‘Five Panditia Place, Ballygunj.’ ‘Good. I was just testing your memory.’ Five Panditia Place turned out to be a small house with two storeys. Mr Roy lived on the ground floor. His bearer opened the door. We told him who we were. He stepped aside and asked us to come in. ‘Your master had come to me to ask for help. He was receiving threatening notes. Did you know about that?’ Feluda asked. ‘Yes, sir. I had been with him for twenty-two years. He used to tell me everything. I had told him not to go out of the house unless it was necessary, but he didn’t listen to me. That evening, when he didn’t return even after nine o’clock, I went to look for him myself. I knew the exact spot where he liked to walk and the bench where he often sat. But I couldn’t find him anywhere. Then a whole day passed, he still did not come back. I even went to the police, but they couldn’t find him, either.’ ‘Do you think you could come with us now and show us the spot where you think Mr Roy might have been seen last?’ ‘Very well, sir.’ ‘What is your name?’ ‘Dinabandhu.’ We took a taxi and reached the lake. Dinabandhu pointed out a bench under a tree by the lake, where Mr Roy used to sit after he finished walking. Apparently, it was his doctor who had insisted on this daily exercise. At this moment, there was no one in sight. Feluda took this opportunity to inspect the bench and its immediate surroundings closely. Five minutes later, he found a small brass container in the tall and thick grass behind the bench. ‘Why, this used to belong to my master!’ exclaimed Dinabandhu. Feluda opened the container. There were a few pieces of supari in it. Feluda put it in his pocket. ‘Did you go to the Bhawanipore police station?’ Feluda asked. ‘Yes, sir.’ ‘Very well. We’ll now drop you at your house, and then have a chat with the police.’

Most OCs in Calcutta knew Feluda. The one in Bhawanipore was Subodh Adhikari. A stern, yet cheerful man, he greeted us with surprise. ‘What brings you