Mr Sen’s house turned out to be a sprawling building, somewhat old fashioned in style, with a front porch. There was a small garden in front of the house. A splash of green behind it suggested a tennis court. A slab of marble on the gate still bore Ambar Sen’s father’s name, which was followed by a lot of letters from the alphabet and commas and full stops. The last word was (Edin.), by which I assumed he had gone to Scotland to study medicine. The man who came out to meet us as our taxi drew up under the porch bore a general resemblance to Ambar Sen, but unlike him, was short, stout and dark. He gave us a smile, but it faded quickly. Ambuj Sen was clearly worried. ‘Please come in,’ he said. We walked across a landing with a marble floor, and went into the living room. Here, too, the floor was made of marble. On it lay a beautiful carpet; there was also a lot of expensive furniture. The sofa I sat on was so soft that it sank by about six inches under my weight. ‘Runa, come here,’ called Ambuj Babu. I noticed a small girl in a frock standing near a door, staring at us in open amazement. She came in and stood by her father. ‘Do you know who this is?’ Ambuj asked her. ‘Yes, it’s Feluda,’ she said softly. ‘And who is this?’ ‘Topshe.’ ‘Oh, so you know both of them?’ ‘Where is Jatayu?’ asked Runa, sounding somewhat disappointed. ‘He couldn’t come with us today, but I’ll bring him here another day, I promise!’ Feluda told her. ‘She has read every story he has written,’ Ambuj Babu informed us. ‘Do you think you can find my uncle?’ Runa asked, looking straight at Feluda. ‘I’ll try; and if you can find me a clue, so much the better.’ ‘A clue?’ ‘Yes. Do you know what that means?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Well then, have you got any that might help us find your uncle quickly?’ ‘Why should I give you a clue? You’re the detective. Finding clues is your job!’ ‘True. You are a very clever girl. What is your real name, Runa?’ ‘Jharna.’ Feluda turned to Ambuj Babu. ‘I need your help in certain matters, Mr Sen, without which I cannot proceed at all.’ ‘I’ll do whatever is required.’

‘I need to talk to every member of your family. I met your brother for just a few minutes. That was not sufficient to get to know him. I also need to go into his study and go through some of his papers. I hope you wouldn’t mind?’ ‘No, of course not.’ ‘Then I shall have to see the spot where your brother used to go for his morning walk.’ ‘No problem. Our driver, Bilash, can take you there.’ By this time, Feluda had risen and was pacing, his eyes fixed on three large bookshelves. ‘Whose books are those?’ ‘Dada’s.’ ‘He appears interested in a lot of subjects, even criminology!’ ‘Yes, he’s studied that subject, too.’ ‘ . . . Science, cookery, history, collecting coins, drama . . .’ ‘Drama is something of a passion for Dada. He builds a stage every year during Durga Puja and gets us to take part in the plays he directs. Nearly every member of our family has taken some role or the other in his plays, including Runa.’ I looked at the little girl. She was still gaping at Feluda. ‘I see. May I please see his study?’ ‘Yes, certainly. Please come with me.’ A passage ran outside the living room, leading to the study which was in the rear portion of the house. Sunlight poured through an open window in the room, making it look bright and inviting. There was a desk and a revolving chair, and an easy chair by the window. Two more chairs stood on one side, presumably for visitors. Behind the desk was a shelf, a cabinet and a Godrej safe. A grey jacket hung from a folding bracket fixed on the wall next to the safe. Ambar Sen clearly believed in order, for his papers, pen-holder, pincushion, paperweight, paper- knife, telephone and various other objects were placed very neatly on his desk. The only thing that struck me as odd was a desk calendar. The date on it had not been changed for three days. When Feluda pointed this out, Ambuj Babu said, ‘Yes, that’s strange. Normally, Dada wouldn’t forget to change the date, but he had been rather preoccupied the last few days.’ Fussy as he was, Feluda changed the date himself from Saturday, the second to Tuesday, the fifth. ‘May I open the drawers?’ he asked, pointing at the desk. ‘Please go ahead.’ Feluda opened all three drawers and rummaged through their contents. A piece of paper he found in the top drawer appeared to intrigue him, for he took it out and examined it closely. ‘Did your brother usually get his glasses made by Himalaya Opticals?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘This is a new cash memo. He had new glasses made only a week ago. Is that right?’ ‘No!’ cried a childish voice. We turned to find that Runa had followed us quietly. ‘How do you know that, Runa?’ Feluda asked. ‘Uncle would have shown me his new glasses. He didn’t.’ Ambuj Sen smiled. ‘We didn’t always get to know Dada’s plans or his activities.’ Feluda closed the drawers and we came out of Ambar Sen’s study. ‘I believe a cousin of yours lives in this house. Is that right?’ Feluda asked when we were back in the living room.

‘Samaresh? Oh yes. He was brought up here.’ ‘Could I speak to him, please?’ Ambuj Sen sent for Samaresh Babu. He turned out to be a man in his mid-thirties, with pockmarks on his face. He wore glasses with very thick frames. He came and stood somewhat stiffly at a little distance. ‘Please sit down,’ said Feluda. Samaresh Babu took a chair, still