The Complete Adventures of Feluda: Volume II (44 page)

Pulak Ghoshal came to our hotel at half past nine the next morning.

‘Have the police finished asking questions?’ Feluda asked him. ‘Yes. None of us could go home before half past nine last night. Who could ever have imagined something like this would happen? We can’t start shooting until the police give the all-clear. Samiran Babu has said we may go ahead once the police finish their investigation, but who knows how long that might take? I’m trying not even to think about the financial loss we’ll have to suffer because of this.’

Lalmohan Babu clicked his tongue in sympathy.

‘However,’ Pulak Babu added a shade more cheerfully, ‘there’s something I have seen in the past. If the production of a film gets temporarily stopped for some reason, it goes on to become a smash hit. Besides, Laluda, your story is totally unbeatable.’

Inspector Saha turned up half an hour after Pulak Babu left. ‘No sign of Lokenath,’ he said, ‘but we’re still looking for him. My men are working even in Siliguri. I think it’s just a matter of time before we find him. He may be hiding in a tribal colony at the moment, but he’s bound to be caught sooner or later. I am positive he’ll try to go to Calcutta and sell the statue there. It’s strange, isn’t it, what greed can do to an otherwise simple man?’

‘I believe you’ve finished interviewing people in the house.’

‘Yes. It proved one thing: everyone, without a single exception, was avidly curious to see how a film is shot. All of them admitted to having spent considerable time watching the shooting. Even Mr Majumdar changed his routine. That is most remarkable, for his life ran with clockwork precision.’

‘How many people would have had the opportunity, do you think? Let’s not worry about the motive as yet.’

‘Well, there are two things to be considered here. One, pouring poison into the victim’s glass of milk; and then stabbing him to steal the statue. Lokenath got the glass of milk ready at around half past
one and went to call Mr Majumdar. He could have dropped the remaining thirty pills into the glass; or, in his absence, someone else might have slipped in and done that. Rajat Bose says he was reading in his room at that time. Samiran Majumdar also says he was in his own room. Neither can prove it. Bahadur and Jagadish were watching the shooting. This happens to be true.’

‘What did your surgeon say about the time of murder?’

‘According to him, the victim was stabbed between 2.30 and 4 p.m. There is no doubt that the cause of death was stabbing, or there wouldn’t have been so much bleeding.’

‘Could anyone say anything about Lokenath?’

‘No. Everyone was engrossed with the shooting.’

Lalmohan Babu cleared his throat. ‘If I must be questioned, why don’t you ask your questions now? Let’s get it over with.’

‘Very well. Technically, I should have interviewed you last night, along with the others, but I didn’t insist as you’re a friend of Mr Mitter’s. Anyway, let’s hear from you what happened yesterday.’

‘I got there at nine o’clock,’ Lalmohan Babu began. ‘It took me an hour to finish my make-up. There is a veranda right next to the room where the shooting is taking place. All the actors normally wait on that veranda to be called to the set. While we were waiting there, something happened, at about half past ten. Mr Majumdar arrived and asked Raina and Verma to go with him. They were back in five minutes. Raina told me Mr Majumdar had shown them an old family heirloom. Now I know it was that statue of Krishna.’

‘I see. What happened next?’

‘At eleven o’clock, Verma and I were called. Pulak started taking the shot in just ten minutes. Four shots were taken before lunch. I had to go to the bathroom after the second one. It must have been around half past twelve.’

‘Did you see anyone on the way?’

‘No. I was called back to the set within minutes of my return. The third shot was taken half-an-hour later, after a rehearsal. After that, I had a few minutes’ rest. I spent that time sitting on the veranda.’

‘Alone?’

‘No. Raina and Verma were both with me. Mr Majumdar came back for a while. It was during this time that I saw Lokenath come and tell him his milk was ready. Mr Majumdar left after another five minutes. At quarter to two, Pulak took the fourth shot, with just me in it. We broke for lunch at half past two, and I went back to the
bathroom to wash my hands. Raina and Verma followed me.’

‘Who went to the bathroom first?’

‘I did. Then I returned straight to the southern side. It took us twenty minutes or so to finish eating. After that I just sat on the veranda. Tapesh was with me.’ I nodded in agreement.

Lalmohan Babu continued, ‘I couldn’t tell you where Raina and Verma were at this time. We resumed working at around three o’clock. My fifth shot was over at half past three, after which there was a break for thirty-five minutes to get the lights ready.’

‘What did you do during that time?’

‘I chatted with Raina and Verma on the veranda. Tapesh sat with us.’ I nodded again.

‘Verma has travelled a lot, all over the country. He was telling us about his experiences.’

‘You mean the three of you were together throughout, until the lights were ready?’

Lalmohan Babu frowned. Then he said, ‘I’m not sure. I think Verma got up and left for about five minutes. Raina was regaling us with gossip from the film world, and then—’

‘That’ll do, thank you,’ Inspector Saha interrupted him. ‘I think I’ve got everything I needed to know. But do you remember having seen Lokenath at all after half past one?’

Lalmohan Babu shook his head. ‘No, I don’t think I did.’

‘Very well. Thank you very much.’ Then he looked at me. ‘Tapesh, you were there as well, weren’t you? Do you have anything to say?’

‘I agree with everything Lalmohan Babu has just told you. At half past two, I went for a walk in the pine wood behind the house. I saw Rajat Bose returning from there. He appeared to be slightly out of breath.’

‘He told me the same thing. Apparently, he often goes for a walk in the pine wood soon after lunch. By the way, when you had your lunch, did anyone from the Majumdar household ever join you?’

‘No. Pulak asked Samiran Majumdar and Rajat Bose to have lunch with us, but both declined.’

‘I see. That reminds me, we didn’t find any fingerprints on the handle of that dagger.’

‘No, I didn’t think you would,’ said Feluda. ‘I need to ask you something, Mr Saha. It’s about the time of the murder. Isn’t it far more likely to be half past two rather than half past four?’

‘Why do you say that?’

‘If Lokenath is the culprit, surely he’d have mixed all the pills—there would have been twenty-nine, not thirty—in Mr Majumdar’s glass of milk as soon as he could? I mean, if he did that at half past one, why should he wait for another three hours before trying to steal the statue, and then stabbing his victim? He’d have wanted to clear out right away, don’t you think?’

‘Yes, that’s a good point. But if he did kill at half past two that still fits in with the surgeon’s report.’

Inspector Saha rose. ‘Thank you very much for your help,’ he said, ‘I must go now. I have more work in Nayanpur Villa. Goodbye.’ But he stopped at the door and turned around. ‘Mr Mitter, why are you still frowning?’ he asked.

‘Oh, that’s nothing!’ Feluda tried to dismiss it with a wave of his hand. ‘You see, I am so used to handling complex cases that this one is striking me as far too simple. This is a totally new experience for me. I am finding it difficult to accept.’

‘You must be mad. We in the police are always immensely relieved if a case turns out to be easy and simple. Perhaps that’s the difference between a police officer and an amateur private detective!’

Inspector Saha left. Feluda continued to look worried, but finally shook his head and said, ‘The inspector’s right. I shouldn’t worry so much. They’ll find Lokenath, and that will be that. Let’s go for a walk down the Mall.’

There weren’t many people about in the Mall. It was cold and misty. We found an empty bench. The mist got thicker in a few minutes. It became difficult to see anything beyond a few yards. If anyone came out of the mist, it seemed as though he had appeared out of nowhere. So we were considerably startled when the figure of an elderly gentleman emerged suddenly from the haze, and stopped before us.

‘Namaskar,’ he said, looking at Feluda.

‘Namaskar,’ Feluda replied, returning his greeting.

‘Yesterday, we met briefly at Keventer’s, if you remember.’

‘Yes, of course. You are Harinarayan Mukherjee, aren’t you?’

‘That’s right. I must say you have a sharp memory. May I sit here
with you for a few minutes?’

‘Certainly.’

Feluda moved aside to make room for him on the bench. He sat down between Feluda and Lalmohan Babu.

‘You live near Nayanpur Villa, don’t you?’

‘Yes. I’ve lived here for eleven years.’

‘I see. You must have heard of the tragedy, so close to your house.’

‘I have indeed. It’s all very sad, but not totally unexpected, is it?’

‘Is that what you think?’

‘I say this because I had known Birupaksha Majumdar a long time. I cannot say we were intimate friends, for he was somewhat reserved by nature; but I had heard a lot about him.’

‘How?’

‘I spent nearly ten years in a place called Neelkanthapur in Madhya Pradesh. I was a geologist, working on the local rocks. Mr Majumdar once came to Neelkanthapur, at the invitation of Raja Prithvi Singh, to go tiger hunting on his estate. They had known each other for some time. Mr Majumdar was then in his mid-thirties, I think. Both men had one thing in common. Neither liked to shoot from a high machaan, or even from an elephant. They wanted to go on foot, without taking the help of beaters, and shoot a tiger at close range from the ground. That’s what led to that terrible accident.’

‘Why, what happened?’

‘Mr Majumdar hit a man instead of a tiger.’

‘What!’

‘Yes. It’s the truth.’

‘You mean a local villager, or someone like that?’

‘No. That might have made matters simpler. The man who died was a professor of history in a college, and a Bengali. He was called Sudheer Brahma. Although he taught history, his main interest in life was ayurveda. While the Raja and Mr Majumdar were looking for a tiger, he was roaming around in the forest looking for herbs. Unfortunately, he was draped in a yellow wrapper. Mr Majumdar saw a flash of yellow through some thick foliage, and mistaking it for a tiger, fired a shot. The bullet went straight into Brahma’s stomach. He died instantly.

‘Prithvi Singh had to spend a lot of money and pull a lot of strings to keep this quiet. I should know, for I was a friend of Sudheer Brahma. Mr Majumdar got away with it that time, but in his heart he obviously knew he was a criminal. He had killed a man, never
mind if it was only by mistake. He hadn’t paid for it, had he? So how long do you suppose he could go on living, weighed down by this awful load of guilt?’

‘Do you happen to think there is a link between the present tragedy and what happened so many years ago?’

‘You are a detective, Mr Mitter, you know about murder and motives. Perhaps I ought to tell you something. Sudheer Brahma had a son called Ramesh. He was sixteen when his father died. Naturally, he hated the idea of the whole thing being hushed up and the killer of his father going scot free. He told me he’d somehow settle scores with the killer when he grew up. He ought to be thirty-eight now.’

‘Have you been in touch with him all these years?’

‘No. I left Neelkanthapur twenty years ago. Then I spent a few years in Chhota Nagpur. Finally, I retired and came to Darjeeling. I don’t know if you’ve seen my house. It’s only a small cottage. I live there with my wife. My son works in Calcutta, and my daughter’s married.’

‘I see. Do you have reason to believe Ramesh Brahma is in Darjeeling at this moment?’

‘No. But to be honest, if he came and stood before me today, I doubt that I could recognize him after twenty-two years. All I can tell you is that he had seemed absolutely determined to avenge his father’s death.’

Mr Mukherjee finished his tale. It was undoubtedly a strange tale, and one that I knew would give Feluda fresh food for thought.

‘Thank you very much indeed, for telling us all this,’ he said to Mr Mukherjee. ‘Even if Sudheer Brahma’s son isn’t here, the very fact that such an event had occurred in Mr Majumdar’s life is surprising. Mind you, he had hinted that there was something in his life he couldn’t talk about, and you yourself had vaguely mentioned something similar, but I could never have imagined it to be this! If you say you were actually present in Neelkanthapur when it happened, I see no reason to doubt your word.’

There seemed no point in continuing to sit in one place. All of us rose to our feet, and Mr Mukherjee said goodbye. We began walking towards Observatory Hill. The familiar frown was back on Feluda’s face. He had clearly decided it was no longer an easy and simple case. ‘God knows if Mr Mukherjee’s story is going to help or hinder my thinking,’ he remarked, walking through the mist. ‘My thoughts, at this moment, are a bit like this place—covered by a haze, muddled
and unclear. If only I could see a ray of sunshine!’

A Nepali with a horse emerged from the mist. ‘Would you like a horse, babu?’ he asked. But we ignored him and walked on. The road curved to the left; on the right was a gorge. We turned left, trying to steer clear of the edge on our right. The railing by the side of the road was practically invisible. On a clear day, it was so easy to see Kanchenjunga from here, but today it seemed as though we were surrounded by an impenetrable white wall.

Soon, the railing ended. We had to be doubly careful now, for if we went just a little too close to the edge on our right, there was every chance of slipping straight into the gorge. I was concerned to note that Feluda seemed so preoccupied that he was moving to the right, every now and then. Then he’d check himself and come back to the left side, closer to the hill. Lalmohan Babu kept muttering, ‘Mysterious, mysterious!’ Once I heard him say, ‘Hey, do you think the word “mysterious” has anything to do with “mist”?’

Neither of us could reply, for we had all heard a noise and stopped. It was the sound of hurrying footsteps, coming from behind us. Whoever it was, was clearly in a hurry and we’d have to let him pass. But although the sound got louder, we couldn’t see anyone, until—suddenly—a shadowy figure materialized from nowhere and pushed Feluda hard in the direction of the gorge. Unable to maintain his balance, or do anything to tackle his attacker, Feluda went right over the edge. The figure disappeared with the same suddenness with which it had appeared, before any of us could see its face. Lalmohan Babu screamed. I remained still like a statue, aware of what had happened, but unable to move.

At this moment, two Nepalis appeared, walking from the opposite direction. They stopped immediately, and asked, ‘
Kya hua,
babu?’

I finally came to life, and told them. ‘
Ek minute thahariye, hum dekhte hain
,’ said one of them. A second later, both men vanished from sight, climbing down the hill with remarkable ease. We still stood foolishly, wondering what the men might find. But in less than thirty seconds, the mist began to lift, rapidly and miraculously. Vague outlines of trees and other objects became visible, almost as if an unseen hand had lifted a veil. I glanced around anxiously.

What was that down below?

A tree. A rhododendron. A man seemed to be wrapped around its trunk. Feluda! Oh yes, there couldn’t be a mistake. I could see his brown jacket and red-and-black scarf. The two Nepalis had seen
him, too. They reached him a couple of minutes later, and helped him to his feet. Feluda stood up somewhat unsteadily.

‘Feluda!’ I cried.

‘Felu Babu!’ shouted Jatayu. Feluda looked up, then slowly raised a hand to indicate he wasn’t seriously hurt. Our two Nepali friends—an absolute Godsend in our moment of crisis—held his hands and guided him up the hill again. It wasn’t easy, but in about five minutes, Feluda was back with us. He was panting, his forehead was bleeding, and he had scratched his palms which showed streaks of blood.

‘
Bahut, bahut shukriya
!’ he said to his rescuers. They grinned, dusted him down and said he should go straight to the clinic in the Mall for first aid.

We thanked them once more, and began walking back to the Mall. ‘Tapesh, do you have any idea who the man might have been?’ Lalmohan Babu asked me. I shook my head. I had seen nothing of his face except his beard. Even that had somehow seemed to be false. ‘How are you feeling now?’ Lalmohan Babu turned to Feluda.

‘Sort of wrecked,’ Feluda replied. ‘If it wasn’t for that tree, I would have broken every bone in my body. But this is exactly what I needed. Such a severe jolt has opened up my brain again. I have already found a very helpful clue. I think I am finally getting somewhere, Lalmohan Babu, though it is now obvious that the case is neither simple nor easy.’