We were back in our room. It was now 5 p.m. Shashanka Sanyal had informed the police, who had started their investigation. At this moment, there was really nothing for us to do. We had just had tea. Despite all my mental turmoil, I couldn’t help noticing just how good the tea was. It was from Mahitosh Babu’s own estate, we were told. Feluda was pacing, frowning and cracking his knuckles, stopping occasionally to light a Charminar, then stubbing it into a brass ashtray after just a couple of puffs. I sat staring out of the window. The sky today was quite clear. Lalmohan Babu kept lifting up the head of the leopard on our floor and inspecting its teeth. I saw him do this at least three times. ‘If only I had had the chance to get to know him better!’ Feluda muttered. This was truly unfortunate. Mr Sengupta had died before we could learn anything about him. How could Feluda get anywhere unless he knew what kind of a man he had been, who would want to kill him, whether he had had any enemies? A few minutes after the clock on the veranda struck five, a servant came up to inform us that Mahitosh Babu wanted to see us. We rose at once and went to the drawing room. Besides our host and Mr Sanyal, there was a third man in the room, wearing a police uniform. ‘This is Inspector Biswas,’ Mahitosh Babu said. ‘When I told him you were the first one to suspect murder, he said he’d like to meet you.’ ‘Namaskar,’ said Feluda and took a chair opposite the inspector. We found a settee for ourselves. Mr Biswas was very dark and quite bald, although he could not have been more than forty. He sported a thin moustache, one side of which was longer than the other. Perhaps he hadn’t been paying attention while trimming it. He cast a sharp glance at Feluda and said, ‘I believe you are an amateur detective?’ Feluda smiled and nodded. ‘Do you know the difference between your lot and mine? There’s usually a murder when you visit a place; we visit a place after there’s been a murder.’ Mr Biswas laughed loudly at his own joke. Feluda went straight to the point. ‘Has the murder weapon been found?’ Mr Biswas stopped laughing and shook his head. ‘No, but we’re still looking for it. You can imagine how difficult it is to find something in a forest, especially when there’s a man-eater lurking in it. Even the police are men, aren’t they? I mean, which man wants to get eaten? Ha ha ha ha!’ Feluda forced a smile since the inspector was laughing so much, but grew serious immediately. ‘Is it true that he died because he was stabbed?’ he asked. ‘That’s impossible to tell, from what’s left of the body. The tiger finished nearly half of it. There will be a post-mortem, naturally, but I don’t think that’s going to be of any use. There is no doubt that he was stabbed. We have to catch whoever did it. Now, whether he died as a result of stabbing, or whether it was because of the tiger’s attack, we do not know. In any case, what the tiger did is not our concern. That’s for Mr Sinha-Roy to sort out.’

Mahitosh Babu was staring at the carpet. ‘Already,’ he said grimly, ‘there is pretty widespread panic among the villagers. Some of my own men who work as woodcutters come from local villages. They have to work for another couple of months, after which the monsoon will start, so their work will have to stop. But they’re not willing to risk their lives right now. I . . . I simply do not know what to do. Before I do anything at all, I must learn who killed Torit, why did he have to die? If I cannot hunt the tiger down, the Forest Department must find someone. After all, I am not the only shikari in this area.’ Mr Biswas cleared this throat. ‘There is only one question in my mind,’ he said. ‘Why did your secretary go to the forest in the middle of the night? The motive for killing, I think, is relatively simple. We didn’t find a wallet or any money or any other valuables on his person. So whoever killed him simply wanted those, I think. Plain robbery, there’s your motive.’ ‘If that was the case,’ Feluda said quietly, lighting a cigarette, ‘he could simply have been knocked unconscious with a rod, or even a heavy walking stick. He did not have to be killed.’ Mr Biswas laughed again, a little dryly this time. ‘No,’ he said, ‘but if you rule out robbery, can you think of a suitable motive, Mr Mitter? Torit Sengupta worked for Mr Sinha-Roy, his world consisted of books and papers, he arrived here five years ago, didn’t go out much and didn’t know anyone except those in this house. Who would wish to kill a man like that, unless he—or they—came upon him by chance and decided to rob him of what possessions he had?’ Feluda frowned in silence. ‘Yes, I know an amateur detective wouldn’t appreciate the idea of a simple robbery,’ Mr Biswas mocked. ‘You like complications, don’t you? You like mysteries? Well then, here’s a first class mystery for you, Mr Mitter: why did Mr Sengupta go into the forest in the first place? What was he doing there? Try and solve that one!’ No one made a reply. Mr Sanyal was sitting next to his friend in absolute silence. Mahitosh Babu was still looking pale and exhausted. He kept shaking his head and muttering under his breath, ‘I don’t understand . . . nothing makes sense . . .!’ There didn’t seem to be anything else to say. We rose a minute later. To my surprise, Mr Biswas spoke quite kindly before we left. ‘You may