It was nearly 2 p.m. The sky had turned grey. There were very few people left at Dashashwamedh Ghat. The three of us were sitting near the water. It was almost an hour since our horrific experience in Maganlal’s house. Two of his men had splashed cold water on Lalmohan Babu’s face to help him regain consciousness. Then Maganlal himself had offered him a glass of milk and brandy, and said, ‘Uncle, you are a brave man.’ We were allowed to leave shortly after this, but not before Maganlal had made it obvious that Feluda’s life was in danger if he insisted on continuing with his investigation. Feluda did not argue, but managed to get a small concession. ‘I must go back to Mr Ghoshal’s house at least once more,’ he said, ‘if only to tell him I’m opting out. If I disappear without a word, it’s not going to do much good to my image, is it?’ To my surprise, Maganlal agreed. ‘Just one more visit,’ he said. ‘Remember, Mr Mitter, if you step out of line, you do so at your own risk. I don’t need to tell you I’ve got the means to keep an eye on everything you do.’ I felt awful thinking Maganlal had had the last word. Feluda had, so far, never been defeated by an adversary. But then, none had been quite so cruel and powerful as Maganlal. Lalmohan Babu had said very little after we came away. The only thing he asked was whether all his hair had turned grey, at which both Feluda and I assured him that not a single new grey hair could be seen on his head. After a few minutes of silence, Feluda said with a sigh, ‘The Ganesh hasn’t left Mr Ghoshal’s house. I am now certain of that. If Maganlal had already got it, he would not offer me money to get off the case. The big question is, where has it gone? Why hasn’t Maganlal been able to lay his hands on it? Besides, who took it out, and who in that house is acting for Maganlal?’ By the time we left the ghat, the sky had turned a darker shade of grey. Was it going to rain? I looked up, and saw the red and white kite again. Feluda, too, had seen it. I recognized the house over which the kite hovered. It was the same red house where Shaitan Singh had had to surrender to Captain Spark. Who was standing on the roof? Wasn’t it Shaitan Singh in person? Yes, indeed. It was Ruku’s friend, Suraj. Like us, he was staring at the kite. Whoever was flying the kite now pulled at the thread. It started to come down rapidly. Suraj threw up his right hand into the air, aiming at the kite. We saw a stone fly past and disappear behind the kite. The stone was tied to the end of a long thread. Suraj had captured the red kite. As he pulled at the thread, the kite began to get closer and closer to him. We decided to pay our last visit to Mr Ghoshal’s house the same afternoon. It was about 4 p.m. when we arrived.Trilochan saluted us again and opened the gate. Once again, we found Vikas Sinha coming out to greet us.

‘Any news?’ he asked. ‘No, I’m afraid not. We just roamed all over the city.’ ‘Mr Ghoshal and the others have gone out.’ ‘Where?’ ‘Sarnath. A few more guests arrived today. Quite a large party went out, only a little while ago. They won’t be back for some time.’ ‘Has Ruku gone with them?’ ‘No, one of his uncles took him to see a film, Tarzan, the Ape Man.’ ‘I see.’ ‘Would you like to sit in my room?’ ‘Yes, but before that I’d like to go up on the roof once more, if I may.’ ‘Of course.’ As we went into the house, we found Shashi Babu still engrossed in his work. ‘He’ll finish tomorrow, won’t he?’ Feluda asked. ‘Yes, the poor man’s still got a high temperature, but he hasn’t stopped working for a moment.’ We climbed the steps to the roof. Here was Ruku’s room. I had guessed that it was really this room that Feluda wanted to see. Would he search it thoroughly? Since Ruku was away, this appeared to be just the right time to look for . . . Then I remembered Maganlal’s warning. Feluda must not spend too long in this house. As it turned out, he found what he was looking for practically immediately. The red and white kite was lying on the floor. We had seen Suraj take it only a couple of hours ago. It was clear that it was damaged in many places. This kite would never fly again. Feluda picked it up. Now we saw something none of us had noticed before. There was a message written on the kite. No, there were, in fact, two messages written in different places. One said, ‘I have been imprisoned. But all is well, ha ha. Again in the evening. Yours, Capt. Spark.’ The other was more brief: ‘Going to see Tarzan. Tomorrow morning. Capt. Spark.’ ‘Good heavens!’ exclaimed Lalmohan Babu. ‘What are these boys up to?’ Feluda replaced the kite just as he had found it, and said, ‘This is a clear example of what books from your adventure series can do to a young mind.’ We returned to Vikas Babu’s room. Bharadwaj, the old bearer, came in with the tea. It was a fairly large room. The bed was on one side, and opposite it, a table and a chair. Besides these was a sofa for visitors. Feluda took the chair, Lalmohan Babu and I chose the sofa. Vikas Babu sat on the bed. ‘How is Mr Ghoshal’s business doing?’ Feluda asked, sipping his tea. ‘Reasonably well, I should imagine,’ Vikas Babu replied. If he was surprised by the question, he did not show