Lalmohan Babu and I went for a walk in the evening by the sea. Heaven knew what lay in store for Mr Hingorani, but perhaps Nayan was safe for the moment. As a matter of fact, I thought, if Hingorani managed to produce just enough money to pay for his first show—that is, after he had paid Tiwari back—then everything would be all right. Once people had actually seen what Nayan was capable of, the money would come rolling in and Mr Hingorani would be able to manage quite well. However, Lalmohan Babu was most annoyed when I told him my theory. ‘Tapesh, I am shocked!’ he said sternly. ‘That man is a criminal. He’s stolen a lot of money from his partner. How can you feel happy about the same man making use of Nayan?’ ‘I am not happy about it, Lalmohan Babu. There is enough evidence against Hingorani to put him in prison right away. But if Tiwari is willing to forgive him, why should either you or I mind if he just gets on with his life?’ ‘I mind because that man’s a gambler. I have no sympathy for gamblers.’ I said nothing more. A little later, Lalmohan Babu seemed to calm down and suggested we stop somewhere for a quick coffee. I was feeling thirsty, too; so we found a café near the beach and went in. It was fairly crowded, but we managed to find a table. ‘Two cold coffees, please,’ I said to the waiter. A minute later, two tall glasses with straws landed in front of us. Both of us bent our heads slightly to take a sip through the straw. ‘Did you speak to your snoopy friend?’ asked a voice. Lalmohan Babu choked. I raised my eyes quickly to find Mr Nandalal Basak standing by our table, dressed in a garish shirt. ‘Tell your friend, and Tarafdar,’ he added, when Lalmohan Babu stopped spluttering, ‘that Basak doesn’t let grass grow under his feet. He may well have his show on the 25th, but that wonder boy will never get the chance to appear on stage. I can guarantee that.’ Without waiting for a reply, Mr Basak walked out of the café and disappeared from sight. It was already dark outside, so I couldn’t see where he went. We paid for our coffee and took a taxi back to the hotel. We reached it in half an hour, to find the lobby absolutely packed with people. Right in the middle of the lobby was a huge pile of luggage. Obviously, several large groups of tourists had arrived had arrived together. We made our way to the lift as quickly as we could and pressed number 4. When we reached our room, we realized someone else was in the room already, for Feluda was speaking to him with a raised voice, sounding extremely cross. He opened the door a few seconds after I rang the bell, and began shouting at us. ‘Where the hell