We were having a most enjoyable lunch in the dining room called Mysore in our hotel. It specialized in Moghlai cuisine. Lalmohan Babu had offered to pay for this meal, as a token of thanks to Mr Tarafdar for having saved his life. Tarafdar and Shankar Babu had rejoined us in the hotel. ‘But how did Gawangi find you in the first place?’ Feluda asked Lalmohan Babu. ‘Don’t ask me, Felu Babu! What happened was this: I was totally engrossed in telling my story, and Nayan was hanging on to every word. We kept going into and coming out of caves and mandaps, without really taking anything in. In one of these, suddenly I saw a statue of Mahishasur. I was about to come out after just one glance, when my eyes fell on another statue, painted black from head to toe, except that its torso was covered with red and white stripes. It was massive, and it was horrible. I was staring at it, quite puzzled by this deviation from all the other sculptures in the complex and wondering if it might perhaps be a statue of Ghatotkach—I mean, there were characters from the Mahabharata strewn about, weren’t there?—when the statue suddenly opened its eyes. Can you imagine that? The monster had actually been sleeping while standing up! Anyway, he lost not a second when he opened his eyes and saw us. Before either of us could get over the shock, he had picked us up and was striding ahead. Well, I think you know the rest.’ ‘Hm. Gawangi might be physically exceptionally strong, but I’m sure he’s actually quite simple. Thank Heavens for that, or Sunil would have found it a lot more difficult to hypnotize him.’ ‘Yes, you’re right,’ Mr Tarafdar said. ‘We had no idea, of course, that we had been followed. You see, Shankar is interested in ayurveda. He’d heard somewhere that a herb called Sarpagandha could be found in Mahabalipuram. So we had gone to look for it. In fact, we even found it and were returning feeling quite jubilant, when we saw Gawangi and Thakur.’ ‘Sarpagandha? Isn’t that given to people with high blood pressure?’ Feluda asked. ‘Yes,’ Shankar Babu replied. ‘Sunil’s pressure tends to climb up occasionally. I wanted the herb for him.’ Lalmohan Babu threw a chicken tikka into his mouth. ‘Felu Babu,’ he said, munching happily, ‘we managed without your help today. Perhaps you’re not going to be needed any more!’ Feluda ignored the jibe and said, ‘What is more important is that Gawangi and Thakur’s efforts failed.’ ‘Yes. We’re now left with only Basak.’ Mr Reddy, who had arrived just before lunch and had been persuaded to join us (although he ate only vegetarian food), spoke for the first time. ‘Tell you what, Mr Tarafdar,’ he said gently. ‘I suggest you don’t go out anywhere else today. In fact, you should rest in the hotel tomorrow as well. After today’s events, I really don’t think you should run any more risks with that boy. After all, your show begins the day after tomorrow and we’re sold out completely for the first couple of days. If anything

happened to Nayan, every single person would want his money back. Where do you think we’d stand then?’ ‘What about security during the shows?’ ‘I have informed the police. Don’t worry, that’s been taken care of.’ Mr Reddy had indeed worked very hard to arrange good publicity for the show. We had seen large posters and hoardings on our way back from Mahabalipuram which showed Mr Tarafdar in his golden costume and introduced Nayan as ‘Jyotishkam—the Wonder Boy’. ‘We’ve all got to be a lot more vigilant,’ Feluda said. ‘I must apologize both to you, Mr Reddy, and to Sunil for not taking better care of Nayan. Those statues and carvings in Mahabalipuram simply turned my head, you see, or else I wouldn’t have allowed Nayan to get out of my sight.’ We finished our meal and left the dining room. Nayan went back with Mr Tarafdar since Jatayu had finished his story. Feluda, Lalmohan Babu and I returned to our room, and barely five minutes later, came the second surprise of the day.’ Feluda was in the middle of telling Jatayu, ‘I must now think of retirement, mustn’t I? I ought to put you in charge, I think. I’m sure you’ll make a very worthy successor—’ and Lalmohan Babu was grinning broadly, thoroughly enjoying being teased, when the telephone rang. Feluda broke off, spoke briefly on the phone, then put it down. ‘I have no idea who he is. But he wants to come up and see us. He rang from the lobby. So I told him to come. Mr Jatayu, please take over.’ ‘What!’ Lalmohan Babu gasped. ‘What do you mean?’ ‘You said my days were over. Let’s see how well you can manage on your own.’ The bell rang before Lalmohan Babu could utter another word. I opened the door to find a middle-aged gentleman, of medium height, sporting a thick black moustache, although his hair was thin and grey. He walked into the room, glanced first at Feluda and then at Lalmohan Babu, and said, ‘Er . . . which one of you is Mr Mitter?’ Feluda pointed at Lalmohan Babu and said coolly, ‘He is.’ The man turned to face Lalmohan Babu, with an outstretched hand. Lalmohan Babu pulled himself together, and gave him a manly handshake. I remembered Feluda had once said to him, ‘A handshake is a Western concept. Therefore, if you must shake hands with someone, do so as a Westerner would —a firm grip, and a smart shake.’ Perhaps, like me, he had recalled these words for I saw him clutch the other gentleman’s hand tightly and give it a vigorous shake. Then he withdrew his hand and said, ‘Please sit down, Mr—?’ The man sat down on a sofa. ‘I could tell you my name, but that wouldn’t mean anything to you,’ he