Shyamlal Mallik was not injured, but the two hours he had had to spend with his hands and feet tied had shaken him very deeply. He was sitting on the mattress in his room, staring blankly into space. ‘If they had to tie me up like that, why didn’t they kill me?’ I heard him mutter. I wondered if he knew all his money was gone. Feluda searched Shyamlal’s room very thoroughly. Only the big chest had been opened. Everything else had been left undisturbed. The key to the chest used to be kept under his pillow. Bholanath Babu, who also slept on the first floor, was attacked in his sleep. Naturally, he had not been able to offer any resistance at all. The bearer had slept through it all, no one had gone anywhere near his room. One of the guards was away, and the other had been struck on his head by a heavy rod, which had left him unconscious for several hours. Jeevanlal’s grandmother lived in the rear portion of the house. Fortunately, she knew nothing of what had happened. We spent fifteen minutes talking to Bholanath Babu and the servants, but there was no sign of Jeevanlal. ‘Did he go off to call the police?’ Feluda asked. ‘I don’t know, sir,’ Bholanath Babu faltered ‘He sent me to your house and I saw him go out, but I haven’t seen him since.’ Without a word, Feluda ran towards the stairs, with Lalmohan Babu and me behind him. We climbed down to the ground floor, crossed a courtyard and went into the garden through the back door. The sun had just risen, and there was a thin mist. The grass and the leaves were wet with the early morning dew. Crows and mynahs and some other birds I couldn’t recognize had started going about their business. We made our way through the garden, but had to stop in just a few minutes. Under a jackfruit tree lay the figure of a man. I recognized the blue shirt he was wearing, the white pyjamas and the chappals. It was Jeevanlal Mallik. Feluda strode forward quickly and looked down at him. ‘My God!’ he exclaimed in horror, stepping back. ‘Felu Babu!’ Lalmohan Babu called, pointing at an object lying a few feet away from the body. ‘I know, I have seen it. Please don’t touch it. That’s what was used to kill Jeevanlal.’ It was a square piece of cloth, with a stone tied round one corner. Bholanath Babu had followed us out and realized what had happened. ‘I don’t believe this!’ he cried and looked as if he was about to faint. ‘Please pull yourself together,’ Feluda said to him, laying a hand on his shoulder. ‘This is not the time to give way to despair. You must inform the police. If you like, Lalmohan Babu will go with you. Nobody must touch either the body or the weapon. This must have happened pretty recently. Perhaps the killer is still in the area. Go at once, but please make sure your master is not told about the murder.’

Feluda ran towards the compound wall, and stopped before the gap in it. Then we both slipped out of it and found ourselves facing the bamboo grove through which we had walked on our first night here. There were no houses within a hundred yards. We stepped into the bamboo grove. What was that structure, tucked away in a corner? Oh, it was probably the old Kali temple Tulsi Babu had mentioned. A man was standing by the temple, looking at us. ‘Why are you up so early?’ he asked, coming forward. It was Tarak Kaviraj, the ayurvedic doctor. ‘Haven’t you heard?’ Feluda asked. ‘Heard what?’ ‘The old Mr Mallik—’ ‘What!’ ‘No, no, it’s not what you think. Mr Mallik is fine, but his house was burgled last night and . . . his son has been killed. But the old man does not know that, so please don’t tell him.’ Tarak Kaviraj hurried on. After a few moments, we decided to return. The culprit had clearly escaped. We slipped back into the garden. What I saw next—or, rather, what I did not see—made me blink and wonder if I was dreaming. Could this really be true? The ground under the jackfruit tree was empty. Jeevanlal’s dead body had vanished, and so had the piece of cloth. Lalmohan Babu was standing a few feet away, trembling visibly. He had to make an effort to speak: ‘Bh-bholanath Babu and I went back to the house, but he s-said he’d go to the police station al-alone. I let him g-go, and then I walked this way to look for you, b-but th-then I s-saw . . .’ ‘ . . . That the corpse had gone?’ ‘Y-yes.’ Feluda ran again, but in a different direction. This time, we made our way to the far end, where we had found the hole in the ground. Behind the garden, we now realized, was another large pond as well as a bigger gap in the wall. No doubt the body had been dragged out through the gap and thrown into the pond. The tree under which the hole had been dug, I noticed, was a mango tree. We retraced our steps and went back into the house, using the staircase at the back to go up to the first floor. ‘Jeevan! Jeevan!’ we heard his grandmother call. ‘Where’s he got to, now? Didn’t I just see him?’ We saw the old lady—clad in a white saree—come out of her room. Her heavily lined face looked sunken, her hair was cut very short and her eyes were hidden behind thick lenses. She must be at least eighty, I thought. Feluda stepped forward to speak to her. ‘Jeevanlal had to go out. Do you need anything? Perhaps I can get it for you?’ ‘Who are you?’ ‘I am a friend of his. My name is Pradosh.’ ‘I