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 have you two been? What’s the point in having you here, when I can’t ever find you when you’re needed?’

Rather embarrassed, we went into the room and found Mr Tarafdar sitting on the sofa, looking as though the world had come to an end. ‘What . . . what happened?’ Lalmohan Babu faltered. ‘Ask your magician.’ ‘What is it, Sunil?’ Mr Tarafdar did not reply. ‘He’s bereft of speech,’ Feluda said, his voice sounding cold and hard, ‘so perhaps I should tell you what happened.’ He lit a Charminar and inhaled deeply. ‘Nayan’s gone. Been kidnapped. Can you believe that? How will anyone ever be able to trust me again? Didn’t I tell you he mustn’t step out of your room? Didn’t I say so a thousand times? But no, he had to go out with Shankar to the hotel bookshop, when the whole place is crawling with strangers.’ ‘And then?’ I could hear my own heartbeats. ‘Go on, Tarafdar, tell them the rest. Or do I have to spend my life speaking on your behalf?’ I had very seldom seen Feluda so totally livid with rage. Mr Tarafdar finally raised his face and spoke in a whisper. ‘Nayan was getting fed up of being couped up in the room. He kept badgering Shankar all day to take him out to buy a book. So Shankar went out with him in the evening, only as far as the hotel shopping arcade, and found the bookshop. Nayan chose two books, and passed them to the lady at the cash till. Shankar was watching her make the bill and wrap the books up, when she suddenly said, “That boy . . . where is that boy?” Shankar wheeled around to find Nayan had vanished. He looked for him everywhere. But . . . but there was no sign of him. There were so many people there, such a lot of pushing and jostling . . . who would have noticed a little boy of eight?’ ‘When did this happen?’ ‘That’s the beauty of it!’ Feluda shouted again. ‘All this happened an hour and a half ago. But Sunil decided to inform me barely ten minutes before you arrived.’ ‘Basak,’ Lalmohan Babu said firmly. ‘Nandalal Basak did this. No doubt about it, Felu Babu. Absolutely none.’ ‘How can you be so sure?’ I explained about our encounter with Mr Basak. Feluda’s frown deepened. ‘I see. This is what I had been afraid of. He must have spotted you in that café, soon after he had had Nayan removed from this hotel.’ ‘Where is Shankar?’ Lalmohan Babu asked. ‘He’s gone to the police station,’ Mr Tarafdar replied. ‘But informing the police alone isn’t going to solve your problem, is it? You’ll have to tell your sponsor and Mr Reddy. Do you think they’ll still be prepared to go ahead with your show, even without Nayan? I doubt it!’ ‘Well, then . . . who’s going to tell Hingorani?’ Lalmohan Babu asked. ‘Not our