by Satyajit Ray
‘Yes, please.’
We said good night and returned to our boat. Feluda said only one thing before going to bed: ‘I cannot really agree with Mr Mallik’s views. If a murder is committed, then the killer—the real killer, of course—should not be spared. If he has taken a life, he has no right to live. I think age and illness have both affected Mr Mallik’s mind. But this has been known to happen to other judges. I suppose it’s natural enough.’
‘Just think, Felu Babu,’ Lalmohan Babu observed, ‘how much power a judge is given. One stroke of his pen can take or save a life. Surely anyone with a conscience and a sense of responsibility will wish to use this power only with extreme caution?’
‘Yes, you are absolutely right.’
Four
Gulmarg was totally different from Srinagar. There were no lakes, or rivers or gardens. What it had was soft, smooth, velvety grass on meadows and slopes, spread over a range of mountains, like rippling green waves. Then there were pine forests and a handful of wooden houses dotted over the valley. It looked as pretty as a picture. In the summer, golfers arrived to play golf in Gulmarg. In the winter, the same slopes, covered with snow, offered skiing.
We had taken a taxi up to Tangmarg, which was twenty-eight miles from Srinagar. The last four miles to Gulmarg had to be covered on horseback. Lalmohan Babu had been duly warned before leaving Calcutta about the possibility of riding a horse. ‘Don’t worry, it’s easier than riding a camel,’ Feluda had told him. None of us could ever forget his plight in Rajasthan when he had been forced to ride a camel, many years ago. Thus reassured, Lalmohan Babu had gone to the extent of bringing proper riding breeches. Now, as he dismounted, he declared there was nothing to riding a horse, it was a piece of cake.
As planned, Mr Mallik and the others had travelled with us. We were all going to spend the night here, then go to Khilanmarg in the morning. Khilanmarg was another three miles away and two thousand feet above Gulmarg. Then we would return to Srinagar.
We had been given two adjoining cabins to stay the night. Ours was smaller than Mr Mallik’s. Three members of his team turned up to see us in the evening, as we were sitting out on our balcony, sipping tea. We recognized two of them—they were Sushant Som and Mr Mallik’s son, Vijay. But the third man was a total stranger. A good-looking man, he must have been in his early thirties. All three appeared to be in the same age group.
‘Allow me to introduce him,’ Mr Som said. ‘This is Arun Sarkar. He is a businessman from Calcutta, but we got to know him in Srinagar. He is one of the gamblers. That should make it easier to place him!’
Everyone laughed. ‘Perhaps you can guess why we are here,’ Mr Som went on. ‘Both these men were eager to meet a real-life private investigator. Mr Ganguli here is a famous writer, too, isn’t he?’
Lalmohan Babu tried to smile modestly.
‘Tell us about some of your cases,’ Vijay Mallik said to Feluda. ‘We’re really interested.’
Feluda had to oblige. When he had finished describing a couple of his best-known cases, Arun Sarkar asked, ‘Is this your first visit to Kashmir?’
‘Yes. When I saw you, Mr Sarkar, I thought you were a Kashmiri yourself. Have you visited Kashmir many times?’
‘Yes. As a matter of fact, I spent a few years of my childhood in Srinagar. My father was the manager of a hotel. Then we left Srinagar and went to Calcutta more than twenty years ago.’
‘Can you speak the local language?’
‘A little.’
Feluda now turned to Vijay Mallik. ‘Aren’t you interested in your father’s work? I mean, the seances—?’
Vijay shook his head emphatically. ‘My father has become senile,’ he said. ‘He keeps talking about withdrawing the death penalty. Can you imagine allowing a murderer to get away with his crime? What could be more unfair?’
‘Is your father aware of your views?’
‘I don’t know. You see, I am not very close to my father. We usually leave each other alone.’
‘I see.’
‘But if what he’s doing is bringing him peace of mind, I see no reason to object.’
‘What about your mother?’
‘My mother’s no more. She died four years ago.’
‘Do you have siblings?’
‘I had a brother. He was much older than me. He went to America and was working there as an engineer, but he died last year. His American wife never came to India. I have a sister, too. She’s married and lives in Bhopal.’
‘You are not very interested in Kashmir and its scenic beauty, are you?’
‘No, I am not. But how did you guess?’
‘It’s pretty obvious from the way you spend most of your time indoors, playing cards.’
‘You’re right. I am a rather prosaic sort of a person. Mountains and rivers mean very little to me. A few friends and a pack of cards are enough to keep me happy.’
Arun Sarkar smiled at this. ‘I am different,’ he said. ‘I like cards and I enjoy the scenery. Perhaps that’s because of my early years in Kashmir.’
‘Anyway,’ Vijay Mallik rose to his feet. ‘It’s time we went. I managed to rope in Sushant today. Are either of you interested in cards?’
‘We were planning to go for a walk right now,’ Feluda replied. ‘You’ll play all evening, won’t you?’
‘Yes, certainly until eleven.’
‘Very well, I’ll drop by when we get back.’
‘OK, see you then.’
All three left with a friendly wave. ‘Why don’t we save the walk until after dinner?’ Lalmohan Babu suggested.
‘So be it!’ said Feluda.
We had told the cook to make rice and chicken curry for dinner. The meal he produced at half past eight was really delicious. We finished it quickly, then set out for our walk, eager to see the town of Gulmarg at night.
It was a quiet place, although its streets were not totally deserted. The people we saw were chiefly tourists, foreigners outnumbering Indian visitors. Lalmohan Babu was still trying to sing a ghazal, his voice trembling occasionally because of the cold.
‘You’re feeling cold and uncomfortable, aren’t you?’ Feluda asked him after a while.
‘Ye-es, but I am not complaining, Felu Babu. Cold it might be, but the air’s so clean and pure. Most refreshing, isn’t it?’
‘So it is. However, I don’t think we should stay out late. Come on Topshe, let’s get back.’
We made an about turn, passed the main street and made our way through a stretch that had no houses or any other sign of habitation. Our cabins were on the other side of this open space. It was here that something completely unexpected happened.
An unknown object came flying through the air and shot past Feluda’s ear with a whoosh, missing it by less than an inch. Then it struck against a tree and fell to the ground. Feluda was carrying a torch. He shone it quickly on the object. It was a large stone. Had it not missed its target, Feluda might well have been badly injured.
The big question was: who could have done such a thing? We had only just arrived here. Nothing untoward had happened yet to warrant an investigation. Sometimes, we were threatened or attacked as an investigation got under way. At this moment, that was out of the question. What, then, could be the reason behind this?
When we were back in our cabin, Feluda said, looking grave, ‘I don’t like this at all. It is obvious that my presence here is unwelcome, someone would like to have me out of his way. That can only mean a criminal activity is being planned. There is absolutely no way of guessing what it might be.’
‘I hope you brought your revolver, Felu Babu?’ Lalmohan Babu asked anxiously.
‘Yes, I always take it with me wherever I go. But how can I use it, when nothing has actually happened?’
‘We’d better take every possible care, Felu Babu. Let’s make sure all doors and windows are locked and bolted at night. We mustn’t take any chances. But isn’t it absolutely amazing? I mean, why do troubles start the minute we set off o
n a holiday?’
Feluda did not reply. After a brief pause, he simply said, ‘You two can go to bed. I’ll just go and have a game of poker with the boys next door. I should be back in an hour.’
Five
The next morning, we left for Khilanmarg at nine o’clock, after a quick breakfast. We had to walk uphill for three miles, to climb the additional two thousand feet. Only old Mr Mallik chose to take a horse. The rest of us decided to go on foot. There were nine of us in the group, including Arun Sarkar and Prayag (Mr Mallik’s bearer). The way to Khilanmarg was most picturesque. There were colourful flowers on both sides of the path.
I have found new energy in these seven day,’ Lalmohan Babu declared. ‘Covering two thousand feet doesn’t strike me as a problem at all.’
We began our journey. The others dispersed in smaller groups, but the three of us stayed together. It took us two hours to reach Khilanmarg. The sight that met our eyes as we got to the top rendered us completely speechless. There was snow on the ground as well as on all the peaks immediately visible. Stretched below us, right up to the horizon, was a green valley, complete with shimmering lakes and rippling rivers. Behind it rose Nanga Parvat, sculpted against the sky, tall and majestic.
‘I don’t think there is any view in Kashmir more beautiful than this!’ Feluda exclaimed softly.
Lalmohan Babu took out his camera. ‘Come on everyone, let’s have a group photo!’ he called. ‘Stand on the snow here, please. It’ll make a fantastic picture.’
A sudden commotion from the other group made me tear my gaze away from the mountains. Then I heard Mr Mallik’s voice: ‘Vijay? Where is Vijay?’
A quick glance told me Vijay Mallik was the only person missing. Could he simply have fallen behind? It did not seem likely. They had not been walking together, it was true; but a single member could not have got totally separated from everyone else without a good reason. Sushant Som spoke next: ‘Why don’t you wait here, Mr Mallik? Let me go and have a look.’
‘We’ll go with you,’ said Mr Sarkar and the doctor.
We, too, joined the search party, retracing our steps slowly over the path we had just climbed up. My heart beat faster. Where had the man gone?
‘Vijay!’ Mr Som called loudly. There was no reply.
We continued to climb down. About fifteen minutes later, Lalmohan Babu stopped suddenly, staring at a bush. Feluda followed his gaze and ran over to the bush immediately. Through its leaves, a man’s foot was sticking out. Or—strictly speaking—it was a mountain boot.
‘Mr Som! Over here!’ Feluda yelled. Mr Som ran across, followed by the others.
Vijay Mallik was lying on his stomach, unconscious. Feluda felt his pulse and said, ‘He’s alive. I think he received a blow on his head, which made him faint.’
Luckily, there was a stream nearby. One of the men ran to bring water from it. Vijay Mallik opened his eyes when his face had been splashed with water a few times.
‘Where? . . .’ he asked, looking around in a puzzled fashion.
‘How did this happen?’ Feluda asked sharply.
‘Someone . . . pushed . . .’
‘It seems as if you fell from quite a height, rolling down the hill.’
‘Yes . . . I remember bending over a flower . . .’
‘You struck your head against this tree trunk. That’s what broke your fall, I think, but you lost consciousness with the impact.’
‘Yes . . . perhaps . . . ’
‘Do you think you could get up?’
Feluda put his arms round Vijay’s shoulders and helped him to his feet. Vijay swayed unsteadily for a few moments, then managed to stand upright. Feluda looked at his head and said, ‘There’s a swelling, but no bleeding. You may well be in pain for a few days. I suggest we go back immediately. We’ll try to get you a horse; in the meantime, walk slowly. When we’re back in Gulmarg and you’re feeling better, I’d like to talk to you.’
Vijay seemed to have recovered a little. He raised his hand gingerly and felt the swelling on his head, then started walking. I wondered confusedly who had done this to him. Why had he been attacked?
It was evening by the time we reached Gulmarg. We went straight to our cabin.
‘We must have a cup of tea before we do anything else,’ Feluda announced, calling the bearer a second later. Then he lapsed into silence. I noticed his brows were knotted in a heavy frown.
Much to our surprise, just as we had finished having our tea, Vijay himself arrived at our cabin, accompanied by Mr Sarkar and Mr Som. ‘I had to come and see you, Mr Mitter,’ he said. ‘I have never felt so perplexed in my life.’
‘Can you think of anyone here who might have a grudge against you?’
‘No. Who could it be, unless it was either of these men here, or Dr Majumdar? That’s a preposterous idea!’
‘You did not run into any old acquaintance in Srinagar?’
‘No.’
‘Is there anyone back in Calcutta who might bear you a grudge?’
‘Not that I am aware of.’
‘Did you go to college in Calcutta?’
‘Yes, Scottish Church.’
‘And was your student life more or less troublefree?’
‘Er. . . no, not exactly.’
‘Oh? Why not?’
‘When I was in my second year in college, I fell into bad company. I began taking drugs.’
‘Hard drugs?’
‘Yes. I tried cocaine . . . and morphine.’
‘What happened next?’
‘My father came to know. He was still working as a judge. He tried very hard to make me give up drugs, but couldn’t.’
‘Even so you finished college?’
‘Yes. I was a brilliant student, as it happened.’
‘Were you at home throughout?’
‘Initially, yes. But once I had left the university, I felt I had to get out. So I left home and travelled to Uttar Pradesh. I met an extraordinary man in Kanpur. His name was Anandaswamy. He was a sadhu, and he made me see the error of my ways. It was really nothing short of a miracle. I finally came to my senses, and went back home. I haven’t touched drugs since. My father was very pleased to have me back. He forgave me completely.’
‘How old were you at the time?’
‘Twenty-seven or twenty-eight.’
‘What did you do next?’
‘My father found me a job in a private firm. I am still working there.’
‘You have a special weakness for cards and gambling, haven’t you?’
‘Yes, that is true.’
‘Has that ever created a problem?’
‘No.’
‘If I were to ask you whether you had any enemies, what would you say?’
‘As far as I know, there is no one who might want to kill me. There may be people who envy me for small things; but then, nearly everyone has enemies like that. Even you must know people who dislike you, or envy your success.’
‘That’s true. Let me now ask you something about other people. How long have you known Dr Majumdar?’
‘He’s been our family physician for the last fifteen years.’
‘I see. I’ve now got a question for Mr Som.’
‘Yes?’
‘How long have you been working as Mr Mallik’s secretary?’
‘Five years, ever since he retired.’
‘How long has the bearer Prayag worked in his house?’
‘About the same length of time, I should think. Mr Mallik’s old bearer, Maqbool, died rather suddenly. Prayag was appointed in his place.’
‘Very well. I think we’ll give it a rest now. But may I ask you further questions later, if that becomes necessary?’
‘Of course,’ replied Vijay Mallik.
Six
‘Back to square one, Felu Babu?’ Lalmohan Babu asked. We were back in our houseboat in Srinagar, and were sitting on the upper deck, having tea.
‘Yes, so it would seem,’ Feluda replied solemnly. ‘Crime and mysteries s
eem to chase me every time I go on holiday and plan to relax for a while. But I must admit I have never felt so puzzled in my life. There’s nothing I can work on, no leads at all.’
He finished his tea and lit a Charminar. Then, after a brief pause, he added, ‘I ought to ask Mr Som to lend me Mr Mallik’s diaries.’
‘Why? What good would that do?’
‘That’s difficult to tell. But of course I’ll have to get Mr Mallik’s permission. That’s why I must ask Mr Som.’
‘You can do that right away. Look, there he is!’
Mr Som was in a shikara, returning from the Boulevard. Judging by the parcels in the boat, he had been out shopping. Feluda leant over the railing and called, ‘Hello Mr Som! Could you stop here for a moment?’
Mr Som’s shikara slowly made its way to our boat.
‘Did you bring Mr Mallik’s diaries with you?’ Feluda asked. ‘Yes, all twenty-four of them.’
‘Do you think I might borrow them? I mean, two or three at a time? I couldn’t really work on this case unless I learnt something more about Mr Mallik and his family. The diaries might help.’
‘All right, let me ask him.’
‘Thank you.’
‘I don’t think he’ll object. He has already told you so much about his life.’
Mr Som left, but returned half an hour later with four old diaries.
‘Mr Mallik agreed at once,’ he told us. ‘He said once his book is. published, everyone will come to know everything, anyway. In any case, the criminal cases he talks about were all reported in the press, so they’re no secrets.’
‘Thank you. I will let you know when I finish these, and get a few more . . . Topshe, why don’t you and Lalmohan Babu go and see Manasbal Lake? I need to stay indoors to work.’
‘Oh by the way,’ said Mr Som. ‘Aren’t you planning to go to Pahalgam?’
‘Yes, we certainly are.’
‘When do you want to go? It might be better if you came with us. We’re going there the day after tomorrow.’
‘Very well.’
I stared at Manasbal Lake in wonder. Its water was so clear that I could see all the underwater vegetation. I had never seen a lake with such amazingly clear water.