There seemed little doubt that Mr Hingorani had been killed by the man from Detecnique. The police surgeon put the time of death between 2.30 and 3.30 p.m. Our visitor had left our room at 2.45 and had told us that he would go straight to see Hingorani. It was obvious that Mr Hingorani had refused to return Tiwari’s money, and so Mr Detecnique had decided to kill him. The police found only sixty- five rupees in a drawer and a handful of coins. The only luggage in the room was a suitcase, partly filled with clothes. If indeed Mr Hingorani had carried lakhs of rupees with him, he’d have put it in a briefcase. There was no sign of a briefcase anywhere. Feluda spoke to the police and gave them a description of the man from Detecnique. ‘I couldn’t tell you his name,’ he said, ‘but if he’s taken the money, he’ll pass it on to Devkinandan Tiwari of T H Syndicate in Calcutta. I think your colleagues there ought to be informed.’ Mr Reddy had heard of the double tragedy, and was now sitting in our room. I had expected him either to throw a fit, or have a heart attack. To my amazement, he remained quite calm and began to discuss how the magic show might still go ahead, even without Nayan. ‘Suppose you concentrate more on your hypnotism?’ he said to Tarafdar. ‘I will get leading personalities—politicians, film stars, sportsmen—on the opening night. You can hypnotize each one of them. How about that?’ Mr Tarafdar shook his head sadly. ‘It’s very kind of you, Mr Reddy. But I can’t spend the rest of my life performing on your stage. I have to move on, but who will treat me with such kindness in other cities? The word has spread, everyone will expect Nayan on my show. Most theatre managers are ruthless businessmen. They wouldn’t dream of giving me a chance. I am finished, Mr Reddy.’ ‘Did Hingorani pay you anything at all?’ Feluda asked. ‘Yes, he paid me a certain sum before I left Calcutta. It was enough to cover our travel and stay here. Tomorrow, he was supposed to pay me another instalment. You see, he believed in astrology. Tomorrow, he had told me, was an auspicious day.’ Mr Reddy looked sympathetically at Mr Tarafdar. ‘I can see what you’re going through. You can’t possibly perform in your present state of mind.’ ‘It isn’t just me, Mr Reddy. My manager, Shankar, is so upset that he’s taken to his bed. I can’t manage without him, either.’ The police had left half an hour ago. A murder enquiry had been started. Every hotel and guest- house in the city was going to be asked if they had had a visitor in the recent past who fitted the description Feluda had given. Hingorani’s nephew, Mohan, had been contacted. He was expected to arrive the next day. The police had removed the body. Feluda himself was going to