The Complete Adventures of Feluda: Volume II

by Satyajit Ray

  ‘Are you confined to your tents?’

  ‘No, we are allowed to go into town, but we cannot leave Pahalgam.’

  ‘When is the funeral?’

  ‘This evening.’

  Feluda returned at five o’clock. I couldn’t help feeling worried while he was gone, but he said now that the police were involved in the case, it was much safer for him to be out and about. Whoever had attacked him wouldn’t dare risk being caught by the police.

  ‘I am very glad to hear that, Felu Babu, but did your long walk help you?’ Lalmohan Babu asked.

  ‘Yes, it certainly did. But I need to go back to Srinagar, or I couldn’t really bring this case to a close.’

  ‘When do you want to go?’

  ‘Tomorrow.’

  ‘What about us?’

  ‘You two should stay on here. I hope to be back in a couple of days. Don’t worry about anything. You couldn’t possibly be in a more beautiful place, could you?’

  ‘No, but why do you have to rush off to Srinagar? Have you seen the light?’

  ‘Yes. I really had gone blind, I ought to have seen it before.’

  ‘But still there is partial darkness, you reckon?’

  ‘Right, and that’s why I have to go back to Srinagar. But before I go, I have to ask a few questions. Let’s start with Prayag.’

  Mr Som returned to his tent and came back with Prayag. We then went to our own tent.

  ‘Have a seat, Prayag,’ Feluda said. Prayag sat down.

  ‘I am going to ask you some questions. I want honest and correct answers. All right?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘How long have you worked for the Malliks?’

  ‘Five years.’

  ‘Where were you before?’

  ‘With Mr Jacob. I was his bearer. He lived in Park Street.’

  ‘How did Mr Mallik get you?’

  ‘Mr Jacob was leaving for England. He did not need me any more. So he wrote a letter to Mr Mallik and I took it to him.’

  ‘How did Jacob and Mallik know each other?’

  ‘They went to the same club.’

  ‘What’s your full name?’

  ‘Prayag Mishir.’

  ‘Who else is there in your family?’

  ‘No one. My wife is dead. I have two daughters, but they’re married. I live alone.’

  ‘I see. Didn’t you hear any noise last night?’

  ‘No, sir.’

  ‘Who could have killed your master?’

  ‘I have no idea, sir. I could never have imagined this might happen.’

  ‘Very well, you may go now.’

  Prayag left. Feluda got Mr Som to call Dr Majumdar.

  ‘Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?’

  ‘No, go ahead.’

  ‘You are a doctor. Did you really approve of the way Mr Mallik tried to contact the dead?’ Dr Majumdar shook his head. ‘No, I certainly did not. I told him many times not to meddle in these matters. I also pointed out that a judge was only a human being. If he made an error in passing a verdict, there was really no need to torture himself with it. What was done was done.’

  ‘That’s true. But when did you realize you had this special power to act as a medium?’

  ‘Many years ago, at least twenty-five years back.’

  ‘Do you have any idea who might have killed him?’

  ‘No, none at all.’

  ‘What do you think of his son?’

  ‘Vijay? He got into a lot of trouble when he was younger—drugs and all that, you see. But later—whether under the influence of a sadhu or something else, I do not know—he recovered and is now leading a perfectly normal life.’

  ‘Isn’t gambling one of his weaknesses?’

  ‘I couldn’t really comment on that, Mr Mitter. I have never gambled in my life. I know nothing about it.’

  ‘Very well. Where does Vijay work?’

  ‘Chatterjee & Co., import and export.’

  ‘I see. Thank you, Dr Majumdar. That’s all for now.’

  Dr Majumdar returned to his tent. Mr Som looked enquiringly at Feluda.

  ‘I’d like to speak to Mr Sarkar now,’ Feluda said. Mr Som looked profoundly startled.

  ‘Mr Sarkar?’

  ‘Why do you find that surprising?’

  ‘Well, he’s an outsider, isn’t he? I mean, he just happened to be with us. He didn’t know Mr Mallik or any of us earlier.’

  ‘That may be so. But how do you know he isn’t in need of money? Anyone can kill anywhere if they need money urgently and desperately.’

  ‘All right, I will go and get him.’

  Mr Sarkar arrived in a few minutes.

  ‘Please take a seat,’ Feluda said to him.

  ‘I had come here on holiday,’ Mr Sarkar remarked, taking the chair he was offered, ‘simply to have a good time. Who knew such a terrible tragedy was in store?’

  ‘True. But there’s nothing to be done, is there, except to try to accept what’s happened?’

  ‘You’re right. What would you like me to tell you?’

  ‘How old were you when you left Kashmir?’

  ‘Twelve.’

  ‘You went straight to Calcutta?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Did your father work as a hotel manager in Calcutta also?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Which hotel?’

  ‘The Calcutta Hotel.’

  ‘Are you a graduate?’

  ‘B Com.’

  ‘What do you do for a living?’

  ‘I work in an insurance company—Universal Insurance. The office is at 5 Pollock Street in Calcutta.’

  ‘Did you know Mr Mallik before?’

  ‘Oh no. I came to know him only after reaching Kashmir. I met Vijay on the plane from Delhi, and discovered we had many things in common. So we quickly became friends.’

  ‘Are you fond of gambling?’

  ‘Yes, you could say that, but it isn’t a passion with me. Not like Vijay.’

  ‘Why did you decide to come to Kashmir?’

  ‘To see how much it had changed. To compare it with my childhood memories.’

  ‘How long did you intend spending here?’

  ‘Ten days originally. But now God knows how long we’ll have to stay here.’

  ‘May I see the ring you’re wearing?’

  ‘Certainly.’

  Mr Sarkar took his ring off and passed it to Feluda. It was made of gold. A blue hexagonal shape was engraved on it and, in the middle of it, was the letter ‘S’, inscribed in white. Feluda thanked him and returned the ring.

  ‘I have no more questions for you, Mr Sarkar.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  Nine

  Feluda took a taxi to Srinagar the next day, soon after breakfast. ‘I think I’ll be back the day after tomorrow, but I may be delayed by a couple of days. So don’t worry,’ he said.

  Inspector Singh arrived at nine o’clock in his jeep and went to have a word with the others. Then he walked into our tent.

  ‘Where is Mr Holmes?’ he asked with a smile.

  ‘He just left for Srinagar,’ I told him.

  ‘To work on this case?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘But why? This case is easy, clear as crystal.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘It’s that bearer who did it. He had the opportunity. He was sleeping in the same tent, wasn’t he? That diamond ring must have tempted him. After all, how much does a bearer earn?’

  ‘Are you going to arrest him?’ Lalmohan Babu asked.

  ‘Right now, I am simply taking him to the police station for further questions. I know now that he’s left-handed. I asked him to write his name. He used his left hand. Even so, he’s still denying having killed his master. So I am taking him away.’

  ‘That ring has to be recovered as well,’ Lalmohan Babu commented.

  ‘Yes, I am sure he’ll tell us where he’s hidden it once we’ve had the chance to speak to him properly.’

  Was
Feluda’s visit to Srinagar purely unnecessary? A complete waste of time? I couldn’t bring myself to believe the case was as simple as Inspector Singh had made it out to be. If it was, Feluda would not have gone to so much trouble. I knew he had gone to Srinagar simply to call Calcutta from there. He knew lots of people in Calcutta who’d get him any information he wanted.

  At the same time, didn’t the inspector say Prayag was left-handed? But could he really have been stupid enough to think he could get away with it? Didn’t he know he’d fall under suspicion immediately?

  Inspector Singh left in a few minutes, taking Prayag with him. I felt quite sorry for the man for he was looking frightened and had tears in his eyes. I knew only too well what the police could do to get a confession from a suspect. I had heard Feluda express regret on this matter more than once. ‘The police are often very good in their work, very committed,’ he had said to me, ‘but they are devoid of mercy.’ But then, sometimes they have no choice. If stern action was necessary to get a vital piece of information, how could anyone blame them for being ruthless? Certainly, under specific circumstances, the police could act far more effectively than a private detective.

  Mr Som paid us another visit. ‘Mr Mitter has gone to Srinagar, I believe,’ he said.

  ‘Yes,’ I replied.

  ‘I must say I am surprised to see how much he’s prepared to do for us, even without being asked.’

  ‘He wouldn’t wait to be asked. He’s taken the whole thing as a challenge, you see. He cannot stand being confronted by an unsolved mystery and will do anything to get to the bottom of it.’

  Mr Som nodded. After a while, Lalmohan Babu asked, ‘Had you started writing Mr Mallik’s biography?’

  ‘Yes. Mr Mallik was checking and correcting what I was writing, and we were making very good progress. It would have been a most interesting book.’

  ‘Now the whole project is going to be shelved?’

  ‘Yes, I can’t see what else can be done.’

  ‘Tell me, do you think Prayag did it?’

  ‘No, I would never have thought he’d have the nerve. But the police . . .’

  ‘Did you know about the attack on Mr Mitter?’

  ‘What! No, I had no idea. What happened?’

  ‘Someone hit him with a heavy object, perhaps a stone. Luckily, he wasn’t badly hurt. But it’s clear that someone has objections to his presence here, and would like him out of the way.’

  ‘Why doesn’t he ask for police protection?’

  ‘No, he’d rather die than do that, although he’d always be prepared to help the police.’

  ‘Are you still playing poker?’ Lalmohan Babu asked.

  ‘Oh no. None of us can think of anything but Mr Mallik’s death. Cards have been forgotten.’

  Feluda did not return the next day. Lalmohan Babu and I took ourselves off to see Shikargah Lake and an old Shiv temple. Both of us felt it was better to stay away from our tent. Mr Mallik’s death was still casting a shadow over everyone’s thoughts. We felt suffocated in such a sombre atmosphere.

  On the third day, just as I was wondering what we should do to keep ourselves occupied, Feluda arrived in a taxi at about ten o’clock. Lalmohan Babu and I went out eagerly to greet him, both of us asking questions. He raised a hand and said, ‘Patience, patience. You will be duly rewarded, I assure you.’

  ‘Just tell me if your head feels clear,’ Lalmohan Babu implored. ‘It does, but it wasn’t easy to unravel the tangled mess. It’s a very complex case.’

  ‘When will you tell us everything?’

  ‘I have to speak to the inspector first.’

  ‘He has already caught the murderer.’

  ‘What! Who’s been arrested?’

  ‘Prayag.’

  ‘Oh God! I mustn’t waste another second. I’m off to the police station now.’

  Feluda left at once. By the time he got back, it was almost time for lunch.

  ‘We’re having a meeting at three o’clock, in the other tent,’ he announced. My heart skipped a beat. Feluda’s revelations at the end of a case were always incredibly dramatic. Only those who had seen him do it before would understand why I reacted like that.

  A police jeep arrived soon after three. Inspector Singh got out of it and found Feluda.

  ‘Can you believe that a police inspector might be interested in crime stories?’

  ‘You mean you read them?’ Feluda laughed.

  ‘Yes, I am passionately fond of detective novels. I am now reminded of quite a few famous stories, Mr Mitter, though I have no idea what you’re going to reveal in a few minutes.’

  ‘You shall learn soon enough.’

  We went into the other bigger tent. Everyone else was already gathered there. Vijay Mallik, Mr Som, Mr Sarkar and Dr Majumdar were seated on chairs. Prayag was standing in a corner. He looked exhausted. The police had obviously been thorough in their questioning.

  Ten

  Feluda rose from his chair and glanced at the assembled group. Then he poured himself a glass of water from a jug, drank some of it, and began speaking.

  ‘Mr Mallik is no longer with us. I am going to start by talking about him. Siddheshwar Mallik worked as a judge for thirty years before ill health forced him to retire. But it could also be that he had lost some of his faith in the entire system of law and justice. He had started to question the validity of the death penalty. I am not going to discuss whether or not he was right in thinking what he did. I am merely going to describe events as they occurred.

  ‘Mr Mallik used to keep diaries. There was something special about these. He used to mark the days on which he passed a death sentence by writing the name of the condemned man and putting a red cross against it. If he wasn’t entirely satisfied that his verdict was justified, he used to put a question mark against that cross. I have seen Mr Mallik’s diaries. There were six question marks, which meant he had doubts about six men. They might have been innocent, but Mr Mallik had to send them to their deaths.

  ‘Now I would like to draw your attention to something else. Mr Mallik expressed his doubt about the accused, but nowhere in his diaries did I find any mention of the family or friends of these men. I don’t think he ever thought about the feelings of parents or wives or children, or anyone who might have known these men closely. But it is not difficult to imagine the pain these people must have suffered.

  ‘As soon as I realized this, I began to wonder if Mr Mallik himself might have been murdered by one of these people, who might have felt he was responsible for the death of an innocent man. The desire for revenge can be kept alive for many years. The more I thought about it, the more likely did it seem.

  ‘Now, the question was: could any one among those present here be a relative or friend of a man hanged for murder, though he might not have been the real culprit?

  ‘Dr Majumdar could be ruled out immediately, as he had been Mr Mallik’s physician for fifteen years. This left me with four people: Mr Som, Vijay Mallik, Mr Sarkar and Prayag. Vijay could be dropped from the list since none of his friends had been sentenced to die. The same rule applied to Mr Som. So, in the end, I was left with only Mr Sarkar and Prayag. Now I’d like to ask Prayag a question.’

  Prayag stood in silence. Feluda looked straight at him. ‘Prayag,’ he said, ‘when you were washing your hands in the river the other day, I saw that two letters from the English alphabet had been tattooed on your right arm: “HR”. What do these letters stand for?’

  Prayag swallowed. ‘They don’t mean anything, sir,’ he said slowly. ‘I wanted to have a tattoo done on my arm. The fellow who did it put those letters there, that is all.’

  ‘Are you telling me that they are not your initials? Nothing to do with your name?’

  ‘No, sir. My name is Prayag Mishir.’

  ‘Really? Suppose I tell you it’s not? You fail to respond often enough if anyone calls you Prayag. But you’re not really deaf, are you? You can hear perfectly well at other times. Why is that?’


  ‘I am called Prayag Mishir, sir. That is my name.’

  ‘No!’ Feluda shouted, ‘Tell me what the “R” stands for. What is your surname?’

  ‘What . . . what can I say?’

  ‘The truth. This is a matter of life and death, can’t you see? Stop telling lies.’

  ‘Well then, sir, you tell everyone what you know.’

  ‘Very well. The “R” stands for Raaut. Now tell us your full name.’ Suddenly, Prayag broke down. ‘He . . . he was my only son, sir,’ he sobbed, ‘and he didn’t kill anyone. But the case against him was so strong, he was so cleverly framed that he had to die. My only son . . . hanged!’

  ‘You still haven’t told us your name.’

  ‘Hanuman Raaut. That is my real name. But. . . but I did not kill my master, nor did I steal that ring. I swear I didn’t!’

  ‘Did I say you were being accused of murder and theft? All I wanted to know was your name.’

  ‘Then . . . then please, sir, please forgive me.’

  ‘No, Hanuman Raaut, you cannot be forgiven completely. Tell us the whole truth.’ Hanuman Raaut stared blankly at Feluda.

  ‘You did not kill your master, it is true,’ Feluda went on, ‘but you tried to kill someone else, didn’t you?’

  ‘No, no.’

  ‘Yes!’ Feluda said coldly. ‘You wanted to teach your master a lesson, didn’t you? You held him responsible for your son’s death. So you wanted him to feel the same sorrow and the same pain. Wasn’t it you who tried to kill Vijay Mallik? Didn’t you push him down the hill in Khilanmarg? You used your left hand, didn’t you, on which you wear a ring?’

  ‘But . . . but he didn’t die. He is still alive!’

  ‘Attempted murder, Hanuman Raaut, is a serious offence. You will not hang for murder, but what you did was utterly wrong. You cannot escape the consequences.’

  Hanuman Raaut did not try to speak after this. Two constables took him away. Feluda drank some more water, then resumed speaking.

  ‘Let me now move on to something else. Something far more serious than what poor Hanuman Raaut did. Yes, I am talking of murder, the wilful destruction of a human life. Whoever took Mr Mallik’s life must pay for it by giving up his own. The death penalty in this case would be fully justified.’