The Complete Adventures of Feluda: Volume II (31 page)

I woke at six-thirty the following morning as my bed-tea arrived. But Feluda appeared to have risen long before me.

‘I’ve been for a walk. Went to see the town,’ he told me.

‘What did you see?’

‘Oh, a lot of things. The main thing is that now I’m convinced our
visit isn’t going to be a waste of time.’

Lalmohan Babu entered the room at this moment and declared that he hadn’t slept so soundly for a long time.

‘I think the old lady upstairs also slept well last night. She got up much later than usual this morning,’ Feluda remarked.

‘How on earth do you know that?’

‘Ananta told me. He said she was late for her visit to the river. Normally she goes to the ghat at six every morning.’

The three of us were sitting on the veranda. Mr Chowdhury joined us in ten minutes. He had had his bath, and looked quite fresh.

‘I’m afraid I’ve been recognized,’ Feluda told him. ‘Your old classmate knows who I am.’

‘What!’

‘Yes. You were right about him. He knows much more than he lets on.’

‘So should I tell everyone else the truth, do you think?’

‘Yes, but if you do that, you’ll also have to tell them why I am here. I mean, your secret can no longer remain a secret, can it?’

Mr Chowdhury began to look worried and unhappy. But before he could say anything, Mr Kanjilal and Mr Roy appeared together. Almost in the same instant, a car tooted outside the front door. Feluda, Lalmohan Babu and I went with Mr Chowdhury to see who had arrived. The other two remained on the veranda.

A black Ambassador with a red cross painted on one side was standing outside. Dr Sarkar and Jayanta Babu got out and came walking towards us. The wound on Jayanta Babu’s head was now dressed. Some of his hair had had to be shaved for this purpose. ‘I am so very sorry,’ he said to his cousin. ‘I ruined your birthday, didn’t I? Actually, my blood pressure—’

‘Yes, Mr Chowdhury is aware of the details,’ Dr Sarkar cut in. ‘You’re fine now, and there is no cause for concern. But no more roaming in the sun for you.’

‘You’ll stay for a cup of tea, won’t you?’ invited Mr Chowdhury. ‘Yes, a cup of tea would be very nice, thank you.’

‘Where are the others?’ asked Jayanta Babu.

‘They’re on the veranda.’

Dr Sarkar and Jayanta Babu went off to join the others. Mr Chowdhury was about to follow them, but Feluda’s words stopped him. ‘Wait, Mr Chowdhury, there’s something we need to do before
we go back to the veranda,’ Feluda said. There was something in his tone that made Mr Chowdhury look up in surprise.

‘What is it?’

‘You said your aunt had the duplicate key to the chest in her room. Would she give it to us now?’

‘Yes, certainly if I asked her for it. But—’

‘I need to open it and see what’s inside. Yes, now.’

Without another word, Mr Chowdhury led us upstairs. We found his aunt getting ready to go for her bath.

‘What!’ Mr Chowdhury exclaimed. ‘How did you manage to get so late today?’

‘God knows. I just overslept. This doesn’t happen very often, of course, but sometimes . . . I don’t know . . .’

‘I need the duplicate key to the chest.’

‘Why? What have you done with yours?’

‘I can’t find it,’ said Mr Chowdhury, a little helplessly. His aunt opened her wardrobe, and found a large bunch of keys which she handed to him silently. Then she left the room.

Mr Chowdhury went to open the chest. For some odd reason, Feluda stopped for a second to pick up the hand grinder from the floor and inspect it briefly.

‘Oh my God, I don’t believe this!’

Startled by Mr Chowdhury’s scream, Lalmohan Babu dropped the book by Salim Ali he had been carrying under his arm.

‘That little bag of gold coins and the ivory box have both disappeared, I take it?’ Feluda asked calmly. Mr Chowdhury swallowed, unable to speak.

‘Lock up your chest again, Mr Chowdhury, and then let’s go downstairs. The time has come to reveal the truth. Please tell the others who I really am, and also tell them that I would be asking them a few questions.’

Mr Chowdhury pulled himself together with a supreme effort, and we trooped down to join the other guests on the veranda.

‘I’d like to tell you something,’ began Mr Chowdhury, and spoke briefly about what had happened on his previous birthday and what he had discovered only a few minutes ago.

‘I could never have imagined that one of my close associates would do such a thing in my own house,’ he finished, ‘but there is no doubt at all that a gold coin was stolen last year, and now other things are missing. I am therefore asking Mr Mitter, who is a
well-known investigator, to make a proper investigation. He would now like to ask you a few questions. I hope you will be good enough to answer them honestly.’

No one spoke. It was impossible to tell what each one of them was thinking. Feluda addressed his first question to Dr Sarkar. It came as a complete surprise to me.

‘Dr Sarkar, how many hospitals are there in Panihati?’

‘Only one.’

‘Does that mean that was where you took Jayanta Babu last night and that was where you rang from?’

‘Why do you ask?’

‘I’m asking this question because I went to that hospital this morning. Jayanta Babu hadn’t been taken there.’

Dr Sarkar laughed. ‘But I never said I was calling from the hospital, did I, Mr Chowdhury?’

‘Well then, where were you calling from?’

‘From my house. Jayanta Babu regained consciousness in the car, which meant that his injury was not as serious as I had thought and there was no concussion. So I decided to take him to my house to keep him under observation overnight.’

‘All night. Now let me ask Jayanta Babu something. You took a key from your cousin yesterday. Was it still in your hand when you fell?’

‘Yes, but I wouldn’t know what happened to it afterwards.’

‘It should have fallen somewhere on the landing, or in the vicinity of where you were found lying. But no one could find it.’

‘So? How am I responsible for that? Why don’t you stop beating about the bush, Mr Mitter, and tell us what you really mean?’

‘One more question, and then I’ll speak my mind, I promise you. Dr Sarkar, are you aware of a substance called
alta
?’

‘Yes, isn’t it a red liquid women use on their feet? I know my wife does, occasionally.’

‘And you’re also aware, aren’t you, that at one glance it would be difficult to tell the difference between
alta
and blood, especially if the light was poor?’

Dr Sarkar cleared his throat and nodded.

‘Very well. I shall now tell you all what I really think.’

Feluda paused. All eyes were fixed upon him.

‘It is my belief,’ he continued, ‘that Jayanta Babu didn’t lose consciousness at all. He only pretended to do so. He was in league
with Dr Sarkar, because it was necessary for both of them to leave the house.’

‘Nonsense!’ shouted Jayanta Babu. ‘Why should we do that?’

‘So that you could return in the dead of night.’

‘Return?’

‘Yes. You came in through the smaller gate on the northern side, and crept up to your mother’s room.’

‘That’s too much! If I did that, wouldn’t my mother have got to know? Are you aware that she doesn’t get more than two hours’ sleep every night?’

‘Yes, I do know she’s an insomniac. But what if she had been given something to make her sleep? What if Dr Sarkar had dropped something into her bowl of milk and rice? A strong sleeping pill, perhaps?’

Neither Dr Sarkar nor Jayanta Babu said anything. Both were beginning to lose their colour and look uncomfortable.

‘You had to come back,’ Feluda went on, ‘because this time you couldn’t afford to get things wrong. You had to ruin Mr Chowdhury’s plan for the evening and get back into the house much later to steal. The theft might not have been discovered for a long time. But you had lost the key you had been carrying, so you had to use the duplicate kept in your mother’s wardrobe. While you were doing this, you suddenly heard my friend reciting poetry, and got a bit nervous. You obviously hadn’t realized that others in the house were awake, and strolling outside. So you decided to wrap yourself in one of your mother’s white saris and come out on the balcony, simply so that we could see a figure and assume it was your mother. Then you went back inside and started to use the hand grinder in the hope that that would make your act more convincing. My suspicions were aroused even then, for you were banging an empty grinder. If it had had paan leaves in it, it would have made a different noise.’

‘So what are you accusing me of?’ Jayanta Babu asked, making a brave attempt to sound casual. ‘That I pretended to be unconscious? Or that I tampered with my mother’s food? Or that I stole back into her room and opened the chest?’

‘Ah, you admit doing all these things, do you?’

‘That doesn’t mean a thing, does it? None of these is a punishable offence. Why don’t you speak of the real event?’

‘Because there isn’t only one event to speak of, Jayanta Babu, there are two. Let me deal with them one by one. The first is the theft
that occurred a year ago.’

‘And what do you know about it? For heaven’s sake, you weren’t even there!’

‘No. But there were others. Someone happened to be standing right next to the thief. He’d have seen everything.’

Mr Chowdhury spoke this time. He sounded greatly distressed. ‘What are you saying, Mr Mitter? If someone saw it happen . . . why, surely he’d have told me?’

Instead of giving him a reply, Feluda suddenly turned to face Kalinath Roy. ‘What trouble were you talking about, Mr Roy, when you told me to keep away from this case?’

Kalinath Roy smiled. ‘Revealing an unpleasant truth can always lead to trouble, can’t it, Mr Mitter? Just think of poor Shankar. I only wanted to spare his feelings.’

‘You needn’t have bothered,’ Mr Chowdhury said crossly. ‘If you know anything abut this case, Kalinath, come clean. Never mind about my feelings. We’ve wasted enough time.’

‘He couldn’t tell you what he had seen, Mr Chowdhury,’ Feluda said before Mr Roy could utter another word, ‘for that would have meant a great deal of financial loss for him. And that was why he didn’t want me to catch the thief, either. You see, he’s been milking the thief dry these past twelve months.’

‘What! Blackmail?’

‘Yes, Mr Chowdhury, blackmail. But what Mr Roy didn’t know was that the thief had an accomplice. He had noticed only one person remove that gold piece. But I think it was his constant demands for money that forced the thief to think of stealing a second time. And so—’

‘No!’ cried Jayanta Babu, a note of despair in his voice. ‘You’re wrong. There was nothing left to be stolen. Banwarilal’s other valuable possessions had already gone! That chest is empty.’

‘Does that mean none of my allegations are false or baseless? You admit—?’

‘Yes! But who . . . who stole the other stuff last night? Why don’t you tell us?’

‘I will. But before that I want a full confession from you. Go on, tell us, Jayanta Babu, did you and Dr Sarkar get together last year and steal one of the twelve gold coins of Jehangir?’

‘Yes. I admit everything. Mr Mitter’s absolutely right.’

Feluda quietly took out his microcassette recorder and passed it to
me.

‘I . . . I can only beg for forgiveness,’ Jayanta Babu continued, casting an appealing glance at his cousin. Dr Sarkar sat with his head in his hands.

‘Dr Sarkar has still got that gold coin,’ Jayanta Babu added. ‘We’ll return it to you. We . . . we were both badly in need of money. But when we tried to sell the first coin, we realized the whole set would fetch a price a hundred times more, so . . .’

‘So you decided to remove the remaining eleven pieces?’

‘Yes. But we were not the only ones capable of stealing. Anyone who can blackmail . . .’

‘. . . Can well be a thief? True. But Mr Roy did not steal anything from that chest.’

‘How do you mean?’

‘The remaining coins and other objects were removed by Pradosh Mitter.’

As everyone gaped in silence, Feluda left the veranda and went to his room. When he returned, he had the little bag of coins and the ivory box in his hands. ‘Here you are, Mr Chowdhury,’ he said, ‘your great-grandfather’s possessions are all safe and intact. You’ll find the rings and pendants, too, in that box.’

‘But how . . . ?’

‘I began to smell a rat, you see, when I found
alta
on the floor instead of blood, and there was no sign of the key. So I was obliged to pick your pocket, Jayanta Babu, when I helped the doctor to carry you to the car. Thank goodness you had kept the key in your right pocket. I couldn’t have taken it if it had been in the other one. The others came and sat down in the drawing room after you had gone. I took this opportunity to rush upstairs, open the chest and take everything away. I could tell they were no longer safe in your mother’s room. Luckily, she was already asleep, so she didn’t see me open the chest . . . Well, here’s your key, Mr Chowdhury. Now you must decide what you want to do with the culprits. I have finished my job.’

On our way back to Calcutta, Lalmohan Babu made us listen to another poem by Baikuntha Mallik. We heard him in silence, without offering any comments on its poetic merits. It was called ‘Genius’, and it went thus:

The world has seen some amazing men,

Who knows of what stuff is made

their brain?

Shakespeare, Da Vinci,

Angelo, Einstein,

I salute you all,

each hero of mine!