Mr Bose said ‘good evening’ to Dr Hajra as he passed him, and went towards his own room. Dr Hajra began walking down the corridor, holding the boy by the hand. Then he saw us and stopped, looking a little confused. Perhaps the sight of two strangers had startled him. Feluda smiled and greeted him. ‘Namaskar. Dr Hajra, I presume?’ he asked. ‘Yes. But I don’t think I. . .?’ Feluda took out one of his cards from his pocket and handed it to Dr Hajra. ‘I need to talk to you. To tell you the truth, we are here at Mr Dhar’s request. He has written you a letter.’ ‘Oh, I see. Mukul, why don’t you go to your room? I’ll have a chat with these people, then I’ll join you. All right?’ ‘I’ll go to the garden,’ said Mukul. His voice sounded as sweet as a flute, but his tone was flat and lifeless, almost as if the words had been spoken by a robot. Dr Hajra said, ‘Very well, you may go to the garden, but be a good boy and don’t go out of the gate, okay?’ Mukul jumped from the corridor straight on to the gravel path, without saying another word. Then he stepped over a row of flowers and stood quietly on the lawn. Dr Hajra turned back to us, gave a somewhat embarrassed smile and asked, ‘Where should we sit?’ ‘Let’s go to our room.’ The hair around Dr Hajra’s ears had started to grey, I noticed. His eyes held a sharp, intelligent look. Now that I could see him more closely, he appeared older—probably in his late forties. When we were seated, Feluda handed him Mr Dhar’s letter and offered him a Charminar. Dr Hajra smiled, said, ‘No, thanks’, and began reading the letter. When he’d finished, he folded it and put it back in its envelope. Feluda explained quickly about Neelu being kidnapped. ‘Mr Dhar was afraid,’ he said, ‘that those men might have followed Mukul and arrived here. That is why he came to see me. In fact, I am here really because he wanted me to join you. But, even if nothing untoward happens and you do not require my protection, I can see that my visit will not go to waste as I’ve always wanted to see Rajasthan.’ Dr Hajra remained thoughtful for a few moments. Then he said, ‘Fortunately, nothing has happened as yet that might be seen as untoward. But honestly, there was no need to talk to a press reporter and say so much. I told Mr Dhar to wait until I finished my investigation, and then he could get Mukul to speak to as many reporters as he liked, especially about the hidden treasure. I might think the story is possibly quite baseless, but there might well be people who’d be easily tempted to go and look for it!’ ‘What do you think of this whole business of recalling previous lives? Do you really believe in jatismars?’

‘What I think amounts to shooting arrows in the dark or simply making guesses. Yet I cannot dismiss the idea as pure nonsense. After all, there have been similar cases in the past. What those people could recall turned out to be accurate, to the last detail. That is why, when I heard about Mukul, I decided to do a thorough investigation. If it turned out that everything Mukul could recall was true, then I would treat his case as a starting point and base my future research on it.’ ‘Have you made any progress?’ ‘One thing has become clear. I was right to think about Rajasthan and bring him here. Mukul’s entire demeanour has changed from the moment we set foot in Rajasthan. Just think. For the first time in his life, he is away from his parents and others in his family and travelling with a virtual stranger. Yet he hasn’t mentioned his own people even once in the last few days.’ ‘How is his relationship with you?’ ‘We’ve had no problems. He sees me as someone who’s taking him to his dreamland. All he can think of is his golden fortress. So he jumps with joy each time he sees a fort.’ ‘Any sign of the golden fortress?’ Dr Hajra shook his head. ‘No, I am afraid not. On our way here, I took him to the fort in Kisangarh. Yesterday evening, he saw the Jodhpur fort from outside. Today, we went to Barmer. Every time, he says, “No, not this one. Let’s find another.” One really needs patience in a case like this. I know there’s no point in taking him to Chittor or Udaipur because there’s no sand near those places. Mukul keeps talking of sand, and that’s to be found only in these parts. So I’m thinking of going to Bikaner tomorrow.’ ‘Would you mind if we came along?’ ‘No, of course not. In fact, I’d feel quite reassured if you were with us because . . . something happened . . .’ Dr Hajra stopped. Feluda had taken out his packet of cigarettes, but did not open it. ‘Yesterday evening,’ Dr Hajra spoke slowly, ‘there was a phone call.’ ‘Where?’ ‘Here in the Circuit House. I wasn’t here; Mukul and I were out looking at the fort. In our absence, someone rang to ask if a man had arrived from Calcutta with a small boy. Naturally, the manager said yes.’ ‘But,’ Feluda suggested, ‘it could be that some of the locals know about the press report that appeared in Calcutta and simply wanted to verify it? After all, there are plenty of Bengalis in Jodhpur, aren’t there? Surely a little curiosity in a matter like this is natural?’ ‘Yes, I can see that. But the question is, why didn’t that man come here and meet me, or get in touch, even when he heard that I was here?’ ‘Hmm. Perhaps it’s best that you and I stay together. And don’t