I made this long preamble to show my readers that I am going to write about the mystery of Nayan with full approval from Feluda. In fact, even Lalmohan Babu seemed to agree wholeheartedly. ‘Splendid! Splendid!’ he said, clapping enthusiastically. ‘What a good idea to write about Nayan! Er . . . I hope my role in it is going to remain the same? I mean, you do remember all the details, don’t you?’ ‘Don’t worry, Lalmohan Babu. I noted everything down. But where should I start? ‘Start with Tarafdar’s show. That really was the beginning, wasn’t it?’ Feluda said. Mr Sunil Tarafdar was a magician. His show was called ‘Chamakdar Tarafdar’. Magicians were growing like mushrooms nowadays. Some of them were serious about their art, but the stiff competition made many of them fade into oblivion. Those who stayed on had to maintain a certain standard. Feluda had once been interested in magic. In fact, it was I who had revealed this a long time ago. As a result, many up and coming magicians often invited Feluda to their shows. I accompanied Feluda to some of these, and was seldom disappointed. Sunil Tarafdar was one of these young magicians on the way up. His name had started to feature in newspapers and journals a year ago. Most reports spoke favourably about him. Last December, he turned up in our house one morning and greeted Feluda by touching his feet. Feluda gets terribly embarrassed if anyone does this, so he jumped up, saying, ‘No, no, please don’t do that . . . there’s no need . . .’ Mr Tarafdar only smiled. He was a young man in his early thirties, tall and slim. He sported a thin, carefully trimmed moustache. ‘Sir,’ he said, straightening himself, ‘I am a great fan of yours. I know you are interested in magic. I am going to hold my next show in Mahajati Sadan on Sunday. I have had three tickets reserved for you in the front row. The show begins at 6.30 p.m. I’ll be delighted if you come.’ Feluda did not say anything immediately. ‘I am inviting you, sir,’ Mr Tarafdar continued, ‘because the last item in my show is going to be absolutely unique. I am very sure no one has ever shown anything like this on stage before.’ Feluda agreed to go. Lalmohan Babu arrived at 5.30 in his green Ambassador the following Sunday. We chatted for a while over a cup of tea, and left for Mahajati Sadan at six. We got there just five minutes before the show was to start. The hall was packed. Obviously, the large advertisement that had appeared in the press recently had worked. We found our seats in the front row. ‘Did you see the ad in the paper?’ asked Lalmohan Babu. ‘Yes,’ Feluda replied.

‘It said something about a totally new attraction . . . something called “Jyotishka”. What could it be?’ ‘I don’t know, Lalmohan Babu. Just be patient, all will be revealed shortly.’ The show began on the dot of six-thirty. I saw Feluda glance at his watch as the curtain went up, raise his eyebrows and smile approvingly. Punctuality was something he felt very strongly about. He had obviously given Mr Tarafdar a bonus point for starting on time. The few items we saw in the first half of the programme were, sadly, nothing out of the ordinary. It also became obvious that apart from a costume made of brocade, Sunil Tarafdar had not been able to pay much attention to glamour and glitter in his show, which was unusual for a modern magician. The show took a different turn after the interval. Mr Tarafdar came back on the stage and began to hypnotize people from the audience. Very soon, it was established beyond any possible doubt that hypnotism was indeed his forte. Certainly, I had never seen anyone with such skill. The applause he got was defeaning. But then, Mr Tarafdar made a sudden false move. He turned towards Feluda and said, ‘I would now request the famous sleuth, Mr Pradosh Mitter, to join me on stage.’ Feluda rose, pointed at Lalmohan Babu and said politely, ‘I think it would be a better idea to have my friend join you instead of me, Mr Tarafdar. Having me on the stage might lead to difficulties.’ But Mr Tarafdar paid no attention. He smiled with supreme confidence and insisted on Feluda going up on the stage. Feluda obeyed, and it became clear in a matter of minutes why he had warned about difficulties. The magician tried his utmost to hypnotize Feluda and turn him into a puppet in his hands, but failed miserably. Feluda remained awake, alert and in full control of his senses. In the end, Mr Tarafdar turned to the audience and said the only thing he could possibly say to save the situation. ‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ he declared, ‘you have just witnessed what tremendous powers Mr Mitter is in possession of. I have no regret at all in admitting defeat before him!’ The audience burst into applause again. Feluda came back to his seat. ‘Felu Babu,’ Lalmohan Babu remarked, ‘your entire physiology is different from other men, isn’t it?’ Before Feluda could respond to this profound observation, Mr Tarafdar announced his last item. The unique, hitherto unseen and unheard of ‘Jyotishka’ turned out to be a good-looking boy of about eight. What he performed a few minutes later took my breath away. Mr Tarafdar placed a chair in the middle of the stage and invited the boy to sit down. Then he took the microphone in his hand. ‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ he said, ‘this child is called Jyotishka. He, too, is in possession of a highly remarkable gift. I admit I have nothing to do with his power, it is entirely his own. But I am proud to be able to present him before you.’ Then he turned to the boy. ‘Jyotishka, please look at the