I sat there stiffly for an hour longer, but there was no sign of further activity. I was just beginning to wonder how much longer I’d have to sit there, when I heard Byomkesh’s whisper in my ear, ‘Come on. We have seen what we needed to.’
Once I came out through the main gate, I saw Barat standing there like a spectral shadow. The three of us headed back home.
Byomkesh asked, ‘Now, tell me what each of you observed. Ajit, begin, please.’
I recounted what I had seen.
Byomkesh narrated his own experience, ‘I heard someone leave by the back door of Nepalbabu’s house. It wasn’t Nepalbabu, because the footsteps were light. After twenty minutes or so, I heard the same footsteps return. Inspector Barat, what about you?’
Barat said, ‘I didn’t hear anyone leave Damayanti’s cottage. But I did see something else!’
‘What was it?’
‘I saw Bonolokhhi leaving her cottage. I had taken up my position on a spot behind Bonolokhhi’s cottage. The lights in her room were visible from there. Then the lights went off and I continued to stare in that direction. Once, there was a flash of lightning and I observed Bonolokhhi leaving her cottage.’
‘Which way did she go?’
‘That I can’t tell. There were no further flashes of lightning to show me which way she went.’
After covering some distance in silence, Byomkesh heaved a deep sigh and remarked, ‘Mushkil Mian wasn’t really lying. Now the point is, who entered Bijoy’s cottage—Mukul or Bonolokhhi? If Bonolokhhi went to Bijoy’s rooms, where was Mukul heading?’
23
We returned to Calcutta late in the night. The following morning, we were late to rise. When I woke up, I found the sky still obscured by dense clouds. I went into the drawing room and saw that Byomkesh and a visitor were chatting over a cup of tea. As I entered, the man turned around and grinned. It was Bikash.
I sat down on the charpoy. Although Bikash had the face of a rogue, something about his unrestrained grin gave him a friendly air. He also spoke in a straightforward, down-to-earth manner. He said, ‘Sir, that No. 19 place has really worn me out.’
Byomkesh said, ‘Please tell us all that you saw and heard.’
Deeply annoyed, Bikash burst out, ‘What’s there to see or hear, sir? It’s a totally dilapidated place—a 1950s model …’
Hastily, Byomkesh interjected with, ‘Yes, yes, I quite understand. But tell me what information you managed to glean from the place.’
Bikash said, ‘There was nothing much to glean. A pair of disreputable women live in that house …’
‘A pair!’ Excitement spilled over from Byomkesh’s tone.
‘Well, yes. The house had three rooms, but there were only two women there.’
‘Are you absolutely sure there weren’t more than two?’
Bikash seemed offended. ‘If there were two and a half women in that house instead of two, you’re free to have me hanged, drawn and quartered, sir. Bikash Dutta is not one to make such mistakes.’
‘Oh, no! Of course not! But is no one occupying the third room? Is it lying vacant?’
‘Why would it lie vacant, sir? The landlord has reserved it for his own use. He stays there during his occasional visits.’
‘Oh …’ said Byomkesh, becoming subdued again.
Bikash then came up with some more irrelevant information that is quite unprintable and therefore omitted from this account. After the young man had left, Byomkesh sat in silence for nearly a quarter of an hour. Then he leaped to his feet and announced, ‘Okay, now for my plan. Ajit, will you please go and buy some cotton wool, bandages and a bottle of tincture of iodine from the chemist’s downstairs?’
Amazed, I asked, ‘What’s all this in aid of?’
‘I’ll need them. Go on. Meanwhile, I’ll call the farm. Oh, by the way, do pick up a couple of thick envelopes from the stationer’s as well.’ He picked up the telephone receiver.
As I slipped on my shirt, I heard him say on the phone, ‘Hello … is that Bijoybabu? Could you please summon Nepalbabu to the phone—it’s urgent …’
I returned from my errand to find that Byomkesh had terminated his conversation over the phone. He was bending over a couple of photographs spread out on the table.
They were Sunayana’s photos, the ones Ramenbabu had given us. When I walked in, he said, ‘Now listen to me carefully.’ As he put each of the photographs into an envelope and sealed the covers with tender care, Byomkesh said, ‘I’ve been trying for a while now to catch a hardened criminal. Last night, the miscreant stabbed me at the Badurbagan crossing and escaped. The wounds were not deep, but the crook won’t let me get away—he’ll come after me again. It’s difficult to predict whether I shall nab him first or he’ll get me before I can do that. If he kills me, then the enigma at Golap Colony will remain unsolved. Therefore I have worked something out. I am placing each of these photographs in an envelope. One of the envelopes will be delivered to Nepalbabu. The other will go to Bhujangadharbabu. If, within the next few days, the villain kills me, they may open the envelopes and find out who my suspect was. If, on the other hand, I can apprehend this ruffian, the possibility of my sudden demise would be greatly reduced. In which case, I would take the envelopes back from them and continue with my investigations at Golap Colony. Do you get my point?’
‘In bits and pieces,’ I replied. ‘But what would be achieved through all this play-acting?’
‘I don’t know yet if it will yield results. At the moment, I am looking at the labour and not at the fruits. Nepalbabu will be here before noon. So you’d better bandage up my arm right away. And listen carefully while I tell you what to do.’
I began on his left wrist. Dipping some cotton wool in tincture of iodine, I applied it to his arm and tied a thick, padded bandage over it. Covering it up with the sleeves of his shirt, I took one end of the bandage and wound it around his neck. All along, Byomkesh kept explaining to me what my task would be.
At eleven o’clock in the morning, there was a knock on our door. I approached it and asked timidly, ‘Who is it? I won’t open up until I have your name.’
‘It is I, Nepal Gupta,’ was the answer. Cautiously, I opened the door a slit and after Nepalbabu had entered, shut and bolted it.
Nepalbabu’s face turned bilious with fear and anxiety as he exclaimed, ‘What’s going on! What are you two up to?’
Byomkesh was half-supine on the charpoy with pillows supporting his back. Feebly, he replied, ‘No need to be afraid, Nepalbabu. Come on in and I’ll give you all the details.’
Nepalbabu approached Byomkesh rather hesitantly and stood by the charpoy. Byomkesh smiled at him wanly and said, ‘Please take a seat. I didn’t tell you everything over the telephone, in case someone came to know about the contents of our conversation. I am being hounded by some criminals who want me dead. They even managed to stab me …’ He paused to serve up a heap of lies in the name of the fictitious perpetrators and finally concluded with, ‘You are the only man on the farm whose intelligence I respect. In case something happens to me, I am entrusting this envelope to your care. If news of my death reaches you, you may open this envelope and find out who my suspect was. If you subsequently pursue the investigations, the murderer will be apprehended without difficulty. I could have left this information with the police, but I have no faith in them. They are bound to mess it up.’
As he heard Byomkesh out, all trace of fear and anxiety disappeared from Nepalbabu’s face, only to be replaced by the glow of pride and joy. With great care, he tucked the envelope away in his pocket and said, ‘Don’t you worry. If you should die, I will be there to carry on your duties. I’ll show the police how an investigation is conducted scientifically.’
It was obvious that his earlier accusations against Bijoy, whom he had identified as the killer, had quite slipped his mind. Perhaps he and Bijoy had resolved their differences.
Byomkesh said, ‘But do remember one thing—you are not to open that envelope unles
s you get news of my death. If I succeed in putting the scoundrel away, my life will no longer be under threat. In that case, you would have to return the envelope to me intact.’
A little disappointed, Nepalbabu accepted the condition.
Once he had left, Byomkesh sat up and said, ‘Ajit, please tell Putiram that I won’t be having lunch.’
‘And why not?’
‘I’m not hungry.’ He smiled a little.
I finished my lunch at around one that afternoon and came back into the room. Byomkesh turned to me and directed, ‘Now make the call.’
I called the farm. Bijoy answered it. I asked him, ‘Could you please summon Bhujangadharbabu to the phone?’ When the doctor picked up the receiver, I told him, ‘Byomkesh is unwell and would like to see you. Could you please come over?’
There was a fleeting pause. Then he said, ‘Certainly. What time should I be there?’
‘Four o’clock would be fine. But please don’t tell anyone about it—it’s a confidential matter.’
‘Right.’
Bhujangadharbabu arrived a little before four. When the doorbell rang, the histrionics before letting the visitor in were repeated. Bhujangadharbabu was shocked. Then, invited by Byomkesh to go and sit by him, he did so.
Owing to his daylong fast, Byomkesh had begun to look haggard. He narrated the concocted story about the rogue to Bhujangadharbabu. The doctor checked his pulse and observed, ‘You’ve lost colour. But you’ll be fine in no time at all.’
Now I realized why Byomkesh hadn’t eaten all day. He didn’t want to be caught out by the trained eyes of a medical man.
Bhujangadharbabu said, ‘Anyway, let’s get to the real reason for my presence here today.’ He was not quite himself today. The nervous energy was missing and he seemed a little sombre.
Byomkesh gave him the real reason for having called him over. Bhujangadharbabu heard him out, put the envelope away in his pocket rather warily and said, ‘My mind isn’t geared for such work. Nevertheless, if—God forbid—something does happen to you, I shall put in my best efforts. I suppose you’re not completely sure as yet. Hence the mystery. Am I right?’
‘You’re absolutely right. If I were sure, I would not have troubled you. I’d have gone straight to the police and said, “There! That’s your man”.’
More time was spent in conversation, while we smoked and drank tea. Then Bhujangadharbabu took his leave. I stood by the window and watched him get into a tram headed for Sealdah.
Byomkesh sprang up and exclaimed, ‘The monster is hungry! Putiram!’
24
The rain came nearly an hour after Bhujangadharbabu had left, starting off as a drizzle, and growing steadily into a full-fledged shower. Since it had arrived after much fanfare, it looked like it would last a while.
If his behaviour were any indication, Byomkesh’s efforts and strategies seemed to be coming to a head. He was edgy and puffed continuously on his cigarette. I knew those signs only too well. The fish was about to take the bait.
The day moved on through the tunnel of clouds into evening. At eight o’clock, Byomkesh called Pramod Barat and a long exchange ensued over the telephone. From the bits and pieces that drifted down to my ears, I gathered that plans were being made to keep a close vigil over Golap Colony, so that none of its residents could elude the law.
Even as I slept through the night, I was conscious of Byomkesh being up, pacing back and forth across the house. It rained all night long.
In the morning, the clouds seemed to be drifting off. The rain was lighter, but hadn’t ceased entirely. Around eleven o’clock, it finally tapered off and a weak sun broke through.
I caught Byomkesh quietly sneaking out with his umbrella and exclaimed, ‘Hey! Where are you off to?’
He didn’t reply. He returned home at a half past three. ‘Are you abstaining from meals today as well?’ I inquired.
‘Certainly not,’ he replied, ‘I feasted on khichdi and the roe of the hilsa at Cafe Shahjahan.’
‘Suppose Nepal Gupta or Dr Bhujanga had spotted you?’
‘The chances of such an eventuality were slim. If either of them had tried to leave the farm, they would have been arrested.’
‘So you have tightened the noose at that end. What’s new on this side? Where did you go this afternoon?’
‘First to the Calcutta Corporation office. I was curious to find out who the owner of No. 19 Mirza Lane was.’
‘And who was it—Bhujangadharbabu?’
Byomkesh shook his head, ‘No, a lady.’
‘Where else did you go?’
‘To Ramenbabu’s. I have picked up two more photographs of Sunayana.’
‘What else did you do?’
‘I went to the city’s China town, in search of teeth.’
‘In search of teeth?’
‘That’s right. Didn’t you know the Chinese were very good dentists?’ He didn’t wait for an answer as he made for the bathroom. I sat there thinking that it wouldn’t be long before the curtain came down after the play’s fifth act. Why, then, had I still not managed to recognize the hero and the heroine?
The next morning, sunlight streamed forth and the sky was bright and clear. Byomkesh laid down the newspaper he was reading and said, ‘It’s almost eight o’clock. Come on, then. Dress me up in my bandages again. I must make an appearance at the farm.’
‘Are you going there alone?’
‘No, you’re coming too. The criminal stalking me has been apprehended. But one can never be too cautious. An escort is indispensable.’
‘When was the villain apprehended?’
‘Last night.’
‘What is our purpose in visiting the farm today?’
‘I have to retrieve the envelopes I had handed out. The day of judgement is at hand.’
I tied the bandages on him. Just before we left, he called Pramod Barat. I carried a thick staff with me. Barat was present at the Mohanpur station. He began to chuckle when he saw Byomkesh’s get-up.
‘Laugh all you want,’ Byomkesh told him, ‘but you have to lay out the bait to reel in the fish. By the way, do you know what my villain is called? Sajjandas Mirzapuri. Keep it in mind, in case it comes up. I found that name in the newspaper this morning. The police in Belgachhia nabbed him last night.’
‘I’m impressed! You’ve even come up with a suitable villain!’
‘The names of a few such criminals feature in the news every day.’
We arrived at the farm. A makeshift police outpost was in place at the main gate. A few guards loitered near the wire fencing. The air was thick with tension.
We parked the van outside the gate and went in. Almost instantly, our eyes fell on Bijoy and Bhujangadharbabu sitting on the porch of Nishanathbabu’s house. Bhujangadharbabu was reading the newspaper. He laid it aside when he saw us. Bijoy frowned in annoyance. When we were a little closer, he asked in a harsh voice, ‘We demand an explanation, Byomkeshbabu! You are incapable of apprehending the culprit and choose to place the entire farm under surveillance, instead! We are being held captive on the farm since day before yesterday!’
Byomkesh didn’t take his curt manner too seriously and replied with a smile, ‘You know the saying about smoke and fire? There’s bound to be some inconvenience at the scene of a murder. Look at me, for instance.’
Bhujangadharbabu said, ‘You seem to have perked up today. Has your ruffian been put away?’
‘Yes, Sajjandas has been caught.’
‘Sajjandas … The name sounds familiar. Oh! It was in the papers today. So … this gentleman was your villain, was he?’
‘He was. The police nabbed him last night. Which is why it’s relatively safe for me now to be out and about.’
‘So then …’ Bhujangadharbabu gave him an inquiring look.
‘Well, yes,’ Byomkesh said, ‘let’s go to your cottage. I need to discuss some business with you.’
We accompanied Bhujangadharbabu to his cottage. ‘I have come down to take the
envelope back from you,’ Byomkesh told him.
‘What a relief that is!’ Bhujangadharbabu said. ‘I feel as though a burden had been lifted from my shoulders. I was afraid of eventually having to play detective. Just a minute …’ He went into his cottage and came back in a minute with the envelope.
Byomkesh took it from him and asked, ‘I don’t suppose you opened it?’
‘No, I didn’t. I must confess I was tempted to, but I controlled the impulse. After all, I gave you my word I wouldn’t. Tell me something, Byomkeshbabu, have you drawn any conclusions about this case?’
‘This much I know—it involves a woman.’
‘Really?’ He stared at Byomkesh curiously as he scratched the back of his head in confusion.
‘Well, thanks. We’ll probably be back in the evening.’ Byomkesh turned towards Nepalbabu’s cottage.
‘Where are you headed that way?’ Bhujangadharbabu asked.
Byomkesh flashed him a smile and replied, ‘I have some confidential business with Nepalbabu.’
Something flickered for an instant in Bhujangadharbabu’s eyes. But he didn’t say a word and continued to stroke the back of his head with a bemused smile on his lips.
Nepalbabu was in his cottage, solving some chess riddles. On seeing Byomkesh, he glared, as if the sight of him alive and well had displeased him no end. When asked to return the envelope to Byomkesh, Nepalbabu brought it out without a word, tossed it in front of us and went back to his puzzle.
We crept away in silence. As it is Nepalbabu didn’t get along too well with the police. And now he had left us in no doubt that Byomkesh’s behaviour had infuriated him.
25
We came straight back to the police station from the farm. Once we were seated in Barat’s room, Byomkesh carefully brought the two envelopes out of his pocket. ‘Here,’ he announced, ‘is proof.’
Nothing was written on the envelopes and they looked identical as well. Yet, some mysterious clue led Byomkesh to pick out one of them. He checked its sealed flap and observed, ‘I believe this was not opened.’
Menagerie & other Byomkesh Bakshi Mysteries Page 14