When we returned to the hotel from the place of the murder (I am not going to call it an accident any more), Feluda told me to wait in the hotel. He had to go out on some work. I didn’t ask him for details for I knew he wouldn’t tell me. On our way back, we had met Helmut near the big crossing. When he heard we were going to Rumtek later in the afternoon, he said he’d like to join us. Nobody had told him about the Lama dance. I wondered where Mr Sarkar was. Had he managed to find out what that Tibetan word meant? I found him in the dining hall, looking morose and depressed. However, my arrival seemed to cheer him up. ‘Where’s your cousin?’ he asked with his usual smile. ‘He’s gone out for a while. He should be back soon.’ ‘Er . . . he’s very strong, isn’t he?’ I looked up in surprise at this question, but Mr Sarkar continued, ‘You see, I am staying on in Gangtok only because he said he’d help me, if need be. Or else I’d have gone back to Darjeeling today.’ ‘Why?’ Mr Sarkar began looking nervous again. Then he slowly took out the same yellow paper from his pocket. ‘I’ve ne-never done anyone any harm. Why should anyone try to threaten me?’ ‘Did you find out what that word means?’ ‘Ye-es. I took it to the Tibetan Institute. And they said . . . they said it means “death”. Giangphung, or something like that. The Tibetan word for death. It’s got me really worried. I am thirty-seven now, you see, and once an astrologer had told me my stars were all going to fall into unfavourable positions after I turned thirty-seven . . .’ This irritated me somewhat. ‘I think you are jumping to conclusions,’ I said a little sternly. ‘All it says is “death”. Does it say you have to die?’ ‘Yes, yes, you’re right. It could be anybody’s death, couldn’t it? Even so . . . I don’t know . . .’ I thought of the figure in red I had seen last night. But obviously it was better not to mention it to Mr Sarkar. He was upset enough as it was. After a few moments of silence, he seemed to pull himself together with an effort. ‘I mustn’t brood,’ he said. ‘Your cousin’s there to help me. The very sight of him inspires confidence. Is he a sportsman?’ ‘He used to play cricket. Now he does yoga.’ ‘I knew it! One doesn’t often get to see a man looking so fit. Anyway, would you like a cup of tea?’ I was feeling quite tired after all that climbing. So I said yes, and Mr Sarkar ordered tea for both of us. Feluda arrived just as the waiter placed two steaming cups before us. Mr Sarkar told him of his problem at once. Feluda looked at the Tibetan word again and asked,