‘It’s studded with five different gems,’ Mr Burman informed us, ‘Diamonds, rubies, sapphires, coral and pearls. I have no idea about its value.’

  ‘I think it’s priceless, and exquisite. How long have you had it?’

  ‘Raja Dayal Singh of Raghunathpur gave it to me, in 1956. He was very impressed by my performance.’

  ‘Don’t you have a chowkidar?’

  ‘Oh yes, and four servants. Perhaps the thief was known to one of the servants’.

  ‘Or he might be one of the residents of this house.’

  ‘What! What a terrible notion!’

  ‘Detectives often say such things. There’s no need to take me seriously’.

  ‘Thank God.’

  ‘You are a widower aren’t you?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Is Nikhil your only son?’

  ‘No. Nikhil is my younger son. The elder—Akhil—finished college at the age of nineteen and went overseas.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘He did not tell me. There have been a few oddly restless characters in my family. Akhil was me of them. He said he wanted to work in Germany, and left in 1970. He never contacted me after that. Perhaps he’s still in Europe, but there’s no way I can find out.’

  ‘Does your secretary Pranavesh know about this statue?’

  ‘Yes. He’s like a son to me. Besides, he has to go through all my personal papers, anyway.’

  ‘I see. Perhaps you should put it back in the safe. I have seldom seen anything so beautiful.’

  ‘Shall I tell Surya Kumar my answer is no?’

  ‘Of course.’

  Feluda rose. ‘I’d like to look at your compound, if I may,’ he said. ‘I want to see how the intruder might have got into the house.’

  ‘The easiest way would be through the veranda,’ Someshwar Burman replied. ‘I think my chowkidar has been a little slack in his duties.’

  The veranda overlooked a garden. It did not seem as if anyone bothered to look after it. The house was surrounded by a fairly high compound wall. Scaling it would not be easy. There were no trees near the wall, either.

  Feluda spent about fifteen minutes, inspecting the grounds. Finally, he said, ‘No, it’s no use. I cannot be sure whether the burglar came from outside, or whether it was someone from the house.’

  Three

  Someshwar Burman rang us the next day to say that he had spoken to Surya Kumar and told him he would not sell his manuscript.

  ‘I’ve just thought of something,’ said Lalmohan Babu, when Mr Burman had rung off.

  ‘You see, my next novel is going to be about a magician. So I was wondering if I could meet Surya Kumar and talk to him. How should I go about it, do you think?’

  ‘Try his hotel,’ Feluda said, ‘The organizers of his show should be able to tell you where he’s staying. Just give them a ring.’

  ‘All right.’

  It took Lalmohan Babu fifteen minutes to contact Surya Kumar and make an appointment with him. Surya Kumar agreed to come to our house at half past nine the following morning.

  ‘You’ll have no difficulty in recognizing me,’ Lalmohan Babu told him. ‘I was hypnotized by you the other day.’

  The next day, Surya Kumar arrived in a Maruti, very punctually at nine-thirty. Lalmohan Babu had turned up about twenty minutes before that. Surya Kumar seemed a little taken aback on meeting Feluda. ‘You seem rather familiar. I didn’t quite catch your name,’ he said.

  ‘I am Pradosh Mitter. You may have seen my photo in a newspaper.’

  ‘Pradosh Mitter? You mean Pradosh Mitter, the investigator?’

  ‘Yes,’ Feluda admitted with a laugh.

  ‘It’s a privilege to meet you, sir!’

  ‘I am no less privileged to have met you. We’ve never had a famous magician in our house before.’

  Lalmohan Babu began his questions when we had all had our tea. ‘How long have you been holding shows?’

  ‘For nearly twelve years.’

  ‘Did you learn magic from someone?’

  ‘I worked as a magician’s assistant for five years. He was called Nakshatra Sen. He was quite old. He had a stroke on the stage, in the middle of a show, and died soon afterwards. There was no one to claim his equipment and all the other paraphernalia, so I took it and began my own career.’

  ‘Do you have to travel all over the country?’

  ‘Yes. I’ve been to Japan and Hong Kong as well.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes. I have an invitation from Singapore next year.’

  ‘Don’t you have a family?’

  ‘No. I am a bachelor.’

  ‘Do you still have to practise and rehearse everything, or is that no longer necessary?’

  ‘Not all of it. But every day, I spend a couple of hours practising sleight of hand. Being in regular practice is absolutely essential.’

  Feluda intervened at this point.

  ‘You have met Someshwar Burman, haven’t you?’

  ‘Yes, I believe you wanted to buy his manuscript?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I thought it might be a good idea to add a few items of Indian magic to the ones I usually show. My own items follow the western style of magic. But Mr Burman refused to sell. I had offered him twenty thousand. But I don’t really mind. I’ve come to know him well, and we’ve got a good relationship. I really respect the man. He has invited me to go and stay with him for a few days, once my shows are over.’

  ‘When is the last one?’

  ‘This Sunday.’

  ‘Where will you go next?’

  ‘I’d like to take a week off. I need a break. Then I’ll go to Patna.’ Lalmohan Babu had a few more questions for him. Surya Kumar left in a few minutes. He struck me as quite a pleasant man.

  ‘All his clothes and his shoes were foreign, bought possibly in Hong Kong, or Japan,’ Feluda remarked. ‘He’s clearly fond of the good things in life, like most magicians.’

  ‘Well, he certainly seems to have grown quite close to the Burmans,’ Lalmohan Babu observed. ‘Or why should he be invited to go and stay with them?’

  Four

  The rest of the week passed eventlessly. What happened after that came as a bolt from the blue. The following Tuesday, Someshwar Burman rang us to say that one of his oldest servants, Avinash, had been murdered, and the little statue of Krishna had vanished! It was a double tragedy.

  Feluda called Lalmohan Babu immediately, and told him to go straight to Mr Burman’s house. We left in a taxi.

  By the time we got there, the police had arrived. Inspector Ghosh knew Feluda. ‘A case of burglary, nothing else,’ he said. ‘The murder was not premeditated. Avinash happened to see the burglar, I think, and the burglar realized it. So Avinash had to go. The main aim of the culprit was to steal that statue from the safe. There’s been another case of burglary recently.’

  ‘But no one except the people in this house knew about the statue.’

  ‘In that case, someone in this house is involved, I should think. There’s Mr Burman’s son, his secretary, his friend, the artist—Ranen Tarafdar, isn’t it?—and the magician, Surya Kumar. He arrived only yesterday. Any one of them could be guilty of the crime. If that is the case, our job becomes so much simpler.’

  ‘When did the murder take place?’

  ‘Between one and three o’clock in the morning.’

  ‘Did the bearer try to stop the intruder?’

  ‘That’s what it looks like, doesn’t it?’

  We went into the house. Someshwar Burman was sitting in the living room on the ground floor, clutching his head. Also present in the room was everyone else in the house. Some were sitting, others standing.

  ‘Will you please tell me what exactly happened?’ Feluda asked Mr Burman. ‘How long had this bearer worked for you?’

  ‘Thirty years. He was totally devoted to me. I cannot believe he is no more.’

  ‘Where was he killed?’

  ‘On the ground floor. P
erhaps Avinash woke up just as the thief was making his escape with the statue of Krishna. Then he tried to catch the thief, so the thief stabbed him with a knife.’

  ‘Can you tell me what the sleeping arrangements are in this house?’

  ‘You’ve seen my bedroom. Animesh and I have our rooms upstairs. All the other bedrooms are on the ground floor. Yesterday, when Surya Kumar arrived, I gave him a guest room, also on the ground floor.’

  ‘I see. No one outside this house knew about that statue, is that right?’

  ‘Yes. Yet, I cannot imagine anyone from this household getting involved in such a thing.’

  ‘Whoever did it would have had to take the key from under your pillow. How come that did not wake you?’

  ‘I take a sleeping pill every night, and sleep very soundly.’

  ‘What happened to the key to the safe?’

  ‘It is still there. It was left hanging from the lock.’

  ‘Has the murder weapon been found?’

  ‘No.’

  Inspector Ghosh walked into the room at this moment. ‘I have questions for all of you,’ he said.

  ‘Would you mind if I asked some more questions after you’ve finished?’ Feluda wanted to know.

  ‘No, not at all. I know a lot about your work and your methods, Mr Mitter. Or I wouldn’t have let you come in. We don’t usually encourage private detectives.’

  Inspector Ghosh took more than an hour to finish his task. We waited, and drank a lot of tea. Although Mr Burman was still in a state of shock, there were no lapses in his duty as a host.

  We had stepped out and were in the garden when Inspector Ghosh joined us. ‘I am through. You can take over now,’ he said to Feluda.

  Feluda decided to start with Mr Burman’s son, Nikhil. We were shown into his room. ‘What do you do for a living?’ Feluda began.

  ‘I have an auction house in Mirza Ghalib Street.’

  ‘What is it called?’

  ‘The Modern Sales Bureau.’

  ‘I have seen your shop.’

  ‘I see. That’s where I usually am, from ten o’clock in the morning to six in the evening.’

  ‘How is your business doing?’

  ‘Quite well, I think.’

  ‘Are you interested in art?’

  ‘My work is such that I often come across objects of art. I have learnt a lot through my work.’

  ‘How long have you been doing this work?’

  ‘Seven years.’

  ‘How old are you?’

  ‘Thirty-three.’

  ‘How old is your elder brother?’

  ‘He must be thirty-six. He’s older by three years.’

  ‘Were you two close?’

  ‘My brother was not close to anyone. He did not talk much, nor did he have many friends. He did not seem to care for anyone, to tell you the truth, not even me.’

  There was something funny about Nikhil Burman’s voice, and the way he spoke. But I could not put my finger to what it was.

  ‘Didn’t your brother write to you from abroad?’ Feluda continued.

  ‘No. He did not write to anyone.’

  ‘Have you never taken an interest in your father’s magic shows?’

  ‘Of course I have. But Baba held most of his shows out of town. I did not get to see those.’

  ‘Did you ever think of learning magic yourself?’

  ‘No. I was happy just watching.’

  ‘Do you have any idea as to who might be responsible for yesterday’s tragedy?’

  ‘No, none at all. I did tell Baba to keep that statue in a bank. But he paid no attention to what I said.’

  There were no more questions for Nikhil Burman. We thanked him and went to find Someshwar Babu’s friend, Animesh. He was in his room.

  ‘What do you do for a living?’ Feluda asked him.

  ‘Nothing. My father was a lawyer. He built a multi-storey building, which was rented out. I manage with the rent I get each month.’

  ‘How long have you known Someshwar Burman?’

  ‘Nearly twenty years.’

  ‘How did you happen to meet him?’

  ‘I used to dabble in astrology at one time. Someshwar came to consult me. He had just started his career as a magician. I told him about his bright future. Five years later, he came back to thank me. That was the start of our friendship. When his wife died, Someshwar asked me to come and stay with him, probably to get over his loneliness. I agreed, and have been living in his house since. It’s almost fifteen years since the day I arrived.’

  ‘When did you first see the statue of Krishna?’

  ‘I knew about it even before Someshwar did. You see, I had already predicted that he would acquire such an object one day. He showed it to me as soon as it was given to him.’

  ‘Do you have any theories as to who could have burgled the house and committed the murder?’

  ‘I think the burglar knew one of the servants. It is my belief that he opened the safe only to steal money. Then he saw that glittering statue, so he took it. I cannot believe that any other occupant of this house could be linked with it in any way,’

  Five

  Pranavesh Babu, Someshwar Burman’s secretary, told us that he had been working for Mr Burman for the last five years. He had his own house in Bhowanipore, but seeing that many of the rooms here were lying empty, Mr Burman had suggested that he stay in the same house.’ Pranavesh Babu had seen no reason to object.

  ‘How is Mr Burman as an employer?’

  ‘Wonderful. I have no complaints at all.’

  ‘How do you like your work?’

  ‘I feel amazed by some of the facts Mr Burman has collected. I can’t tell you how many new things I have learnt just by typing his notes for him.’

  ‘How long do you work every day?’

  ‘Until eight or nine o’clock in the evening.’

  ‘You sleep on the ground floor, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Do you usually manage to sleep well?’

  ‘Yes, most of the time.’

  ‘Wasn’t your sleep disturbed last night by a noise, or something else?’

  ‘No. I heard what happened only this morning.’

  ‘Do you suspect anyone in this house? If no one but the residents of this house knew about that statue, then the culprit might still be here!’

  ‘That could well be the case. Am I not one of the suspects myself?’

  ‘Yes, you are.’

  ‘The police officers will search the whole house, I believe. But it should not be difficult to find a place to hide a tiny object like that. All one has to do is retrieve it once the coast is clear.’

  The artist who was drawing Mr Burman’s portrait was also staying in the house. He would have to remain here until his job was done. I found this man somewhat peculiar, possibly because of his appearance—he had a thick beard, and his hair came down to his shoulders. He also spoke very little. But from what I had seen of the unfinished portrait, he was a good artist.

  His room was also on the ground floor. Feluda knocked on his door. He opened it and looked enquiringly at us.

  ‘I have a few questions to ask,’ Feluda said.

  ‘Very well. Please come in.’

  His room was quite untidy, as I had expected. Feluda took a chair, I a stool, and Lalmohan Babu sat on the bed.

  ‘You are Ranen Tarafdar?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘How long have you spent in this house?’

  ‘I’ve been here since the day I began the portrait, six weeks ago.’

  ‘How long do you usually take to finish a portrait?’

  ‘If it’s a full figure, and if I can get a couple of hours’ sitting every day, it usually takes me six weeks.’

  ‘Then why is it taking you longer this time?’

  ‘Because Mr Burman doesn’t like sitting for me for more than an hour every day. Besides, he’s grown quite fond of me, so he’d like me to stay here permanently. He likes having a lot of p
eople around him. One of his sons is living abroad. His daughter is married, and his wife is dead. Mr Burman began feeling extremely lonely after his wife passed away. So he decided to fill his empty house with people. At least, that’s what I think.’

  ‘Where did you train as an artist?’

  ‘I spent three years in Paris. Before that, I was in the Government College of Art in Calcutta.’

  ‘Do you manage to make a decent living out of making portraits?’

  ‘No, not any more. Photography has wiped out the popularity artists once enjoyed as makers of portraits. I have gone into abstract painting myself. If Mr Burman had not come forward to sponsor me, I would have been in dire straits.’

  ‘Did you know about the stolen statue?’

  ‘Yes. Mr Burman had shown it to me. “You are an artist, you will be able to appreciate its real value,” he had said.’

  ‘What do you think about the theft and the murder?’

  ‘I do not think anyone in this house was involved. Perhaps the thief opened the safe to take some money from it, then saw the statue purely by chance. He gave in to temptation, took it, and then came face to face with Avinash before he could get away. So he had to get rid of Avinash. Self defence must be the only motive behind the murder. I cannot think of anything else.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  Feluda rose. There were two men left to be interviewed: Surya Kumar and Someshwar Burman. We went to Surya Kumar first. He seemed quiet and somewhat depressed, possibly because the disaster had occurred the same day as his arrival here.

  ‘You are an unfortunate man!’ Feluda remarked.

  ‘You can say that again! Mr Burman invited me so warmly, and I was so glad to accept. . . and look what happens on my first night. I can hardly believe it.’

  ‘Didn’t you hear any noise?’

  ‘Nothing at all. I tend to sleep rather soundly, without waking even once during the night. So I heard nothing.’

  ‘Have you got to know everyone in this house?’

  ‘No. I’ve met them, but that’s about all. Someshwar Babu is the only person I know.’

  ‘Didn’t you see the statue that was stolen?’

  ‘No, how could I? I don’t even know what it looked like. A statue of Krishna, that’s all I’ve heard.’