Five
Moti Mistri Lane turned out to be so narrow that we had to park our car outside on the main road. The owner of a paan shop told us where Sasadhar Chatterjee lived. We found the house and knocked on the door. It was opened by a middle-aged man.
‘Yes?’ he looked at us enquiringly.
‘We’d like to meet Sasadhar Chatterjee. Is he home?’
‘I am Chatterjee. How can I help you?’
Lalmohan Babu took out another card and passed it to Mr Chatterjee.
‘You are the famous writer, Lalmohan Ganguli?’ Mr Chatterjee asked, his eyes glinting.
‘I don’t know about being famous, but I am the writer, yes,’ Lalmohan Babu replied with unusual modesty.
‘Why, I have read every book you’ve ever written! But what brings you here?’
‘I have been sent here by my friend, Pradosh Mitter.’
‘I know of him, too. Please come in.’
At last, we stepped into his room. A large bed occupied most of it, but there were two chairs as well. Lalmohan Babu took one of these and said, ‘We are making enquiries regarding the murder of Nepal Lahiri. Can you tell us anything about it?’
‘What can I say? He was killed even before he could get to my house. One of our local boys came and told me what had happened. Nepal and I had been friends for twenty-two years, although we worked for different companies.’
‘Did he have any enemies?’
‘Of course he did. He was important and well established, the star of Apsara. Many other actors envied him.’
‘Can you think of anyone in particular?’
‘No, I am afraid not. He never mentioned anyone’s name. Nepal was a bit reckless, it never bothered him what others said or felt. He knew how good he was, and how much in demand. Various rival companies had made him tempting offers, but his loyalties were with Apsara. That’s where he had started his career, you see.’
‘Did he tell you about the threatening notes he had been sent?’
‘Yes, but he didn’t seem perturbed at all. The fact is, an astrologer had once told him he’d live until the age of eighty-two. Nepal believed him. He also believed that he’d continue to work until that age, and would actually die on the stage.’
Mr Chatterjee sighed. ‘I really don’t have anything more to say,’ he added. ‘I feel rather depressed, to tell you the truth.’
We took the hint and rose. Then we thanked him and left.
We returned home straight after this to make our report. Feluda seemed very pleased with Lalmohan Babu. ‘Well done, Mr Ganguli!’ he said. ‘You worked just as efficiently as a professional investigator. The only thing that remains to be done now is interviewing the other top actors of Apsara—the ones that knew Nepal Lahiri well. Some might have been jealous, but others might have been close to him.’
‘How is your ankle?’ I asked him.
‘Much the same. I don’t think I can go out for another couple of days. By the way, when you speak to the other actors, don’t forget the new one.’
‘No, no, of course not.’
Lalmohan Babu was duly gratified by Feluda’s praise. ‘It was a new experience for me,’ he said happily. ‘Now I don’t think your job is as difficult as it seems.’
‘No. The only difficult part is arriving at the truth.’
‘Yes, that’s true; and I certainly cannot claim that I can find out the truth just by asking a few questions. But, Felu Babu, I can tell you this: if you saw me today, even you would not have recognized me.’
‘Really?’
‘Really. I was a different man.’
Feluda laughed and changed the subject. ‘Were they having rehearsals this morning?’ he asked.
‘Yes, I think so. They’re planning to stage Alamgeer quite soon,’ I replied.
‘In that case, ring the manager before going and ask him what time might be convenient to speak to everyone.’
‘Very well.’
‘Did you see the police there?’
‘No. There were no policemen.’
‘Perhaps they were in plain clothes. I am going to ring Inspector Bhowmik and ask him how far they have got. He must be in charge of this case.’
Six
A conversation with Inspector Bhowmik revealed that the police suspected a gang of criminals. Apparently, Nepal Lahiri had been wearing an expensive watch which was missing when the police found his body. Plain robbery might well have been the motive behind his murder.
‘You mean there’s no connection between the theatre and this murder?’ Feluda asked.
‘No, I don’t think so. A particular gang—most of them ex-convicts—has been active in that area for some time. We found the knife Lahiri had been stabbed with, but there were no fingerprints. However, we are pretty sure we can catch the culprits soon, perhaps in two or three days. We may not need your services this time, Mr Mitter.’
Feluda put the phone down and said, ‘Ring the manager now. We need to talk to those actors.’
I got through to Kailash Banerjee on my third attempt.
‘The police have already been here and spoken to everyone. But if you must go through the whole process again, come here at half past ten on Thursday. Rehearsals start at eleven. You’ll have to finish your business in half an hour,’ Mr Banerjee said.
‘You need to speak to only four people,’ Feluda told me after I had replaced the receiver. ‘The top three in Apsara and the new recruit.’
Lalmohan Babu and I reached Apsara a little before ten-thirty. Today, Lalmohan Babu appeared even smarter and more confident. His whole demeanour had changed.
When we told the manager we wanted to speak to only the top three actors and the latest arrival, he said, ‘In that case, you had better start with Dharani. Dharani Sanyal. He is our seniormost artiste. He’s been with us for twenty-six years.’
We were sitting in the antechamber attached to the manager’s room. Dharani Sanyal entered a few minutes later. About fifty years old, he had thick long hair like a lion’s mane, and rather droopy eyes.
‘I am Dharani Sanyal,’ he said. ‘You two are detectives, I believe?’
‘Yes,’ Lalmohan Babu said quickly, without bothering to explain. ‘We are investigating the death of Nepal Lahiri.’
‘Nepal was getting strange anonymous notes,’ said Dharani Sanyal. ‘I told him to take care, but he paid no attention. God knows why he had to go to Moti Mistri Lane. It’s not a safe area at all. If he didn’t see his friend for a few days, what difference would it have made? I even told him to inform the police, but he just laughed. A similar thing had happened to one of our other actors, Mahitosh Roy. But Mahitosh was not a star. His disappearance was no major loss to the company.’
‘Did Nepal Lahiri have any enemies?’
‘Certainly. Envy is pretty common, particularly among actors. But if you want me to mention names, or tell you who might be a suspect, I am afraid I couldn’t help you.’
‘Did he ever visit your house?’
‘No. We met here three times a week. I didn’t know him well enough to want to meet him on other days as well.’
‘What were you doing at the time when Nepal Lahiri was killed?’
‘I was at the house of a friend, Kalikinkar Ghoshal, attending a session of keertan. You can have this verified, if you like.’
‘All right. Thank you, no more questions.’
Dharani Sanyal left, and was replaced by Dipen Bose: slightly younger than Sanyal, clean shaven, short curly hair, a cigarette dangling from his lips.
‘Nepal and I joined this theatre together. I was ambitious like him, but not as gifted. Nepal had real talent,’ he said.
‘Did you envy him?’
‘Yes, frequently. I often thought how nice it would be if Nepal could be removed from my path. He was the one stumbling block in my way to stardom.’
‘You are very honest, Mr Bose. Didn’t you ever think of acting upon your thoughts?’
‘Oh no. I am a very ordinary man,
and I have a family to think of. Planning and carrying out a murder is something I’d never do, except perhaps on the stage. I might get dramatic ideas because I act in plays, but carry them out in real life? No, sir, not me!’
‘Where were you that evening when Mr Lahiri was killed?’
‘At a cinema. But I cannot prove it. I never keep old stubs.’
‘What film did you see?’
‘Heartthrob.’
‘How was it?’
‘Awful.’
‘All right, you may go now.’
The third actor was called Bhujanga Ray. He seemed to be a little more than fifty, his eyes were sunken, his cheeks hollow, his nose hooked, and his hair thin.
‘How did you get on with Nepal Lahiri?’ Lalmohan Babu asked him.
‘Nepal was my best and closest friend in Apsara.’
‘Do you have anything to say about his death?’
‘It is the biggest tragedy in many years that’s hit not just Apsara, but the whole world of theatre. Nepal was a remarkable actor. We never clashed, for he always played the lead, and I did smaller characters.’
‘Did you know about the threats he was receiving?’
‘Yes, he told me when he got the first one. I warned him immediately not to take it lightly, and to stop going to Moti Mistri Lane. That area crawls with criminals. But Nepal decided to ignore the whole thing. He was convinced he’d live to be eighty-two.’
‘Does that mean you think he was killed by an ordinary armed robber?’
‘What else is one supposed to think? His watch was missing, wasn’t it? It was an Omega, worth at least seven thousand.’
We had no further questions for him. Bhujanga Ray thanked us and left.
The new actor, Sudhendu Chakravarty, came in next. I was slightly startled to see him, for with a thick beard and moustache, he looked as if he was made up for a part and about to go on stage. He told us he had started to grow a beard the minute he heard Apsara were going to produce Alamgeer. Before that he only had a moustache.
‘Where were you before you joined Apsara?’ Lalmohan Babu asked him.
‘Nowhere. I mean, I was not a professional actor. I occasionally did small roles in plays for private clubs, that was all. But although I run a small business selling plywood, acting has always been something of a passion. For years, I stood in front of a mirror and played various roles from different plays, learning the lines until I was word perfect. Now I don’t need to do that, but the passion has remained.’
‘Have you got a role in Alamgeer?’
‘I have been promised one, yes. It may well be the lead. Nothing’s finalized yet.’
‘Where do you live?’
‘Amherst Row.’
‘What will happen to your business?’
‘I will give it up. I was doing it only because I hadn’t got a proper break. Now I can be a full-time actor.’
There was only one question left to be asked. ‘Did you get to know Nepal Lahiri?’
‘Only a little. But I had seen his acting many times before. I used to admire him a lot.’
Seven
Feluda listened to our report attentively. Then he said, ‘I can see that you’ve managed pretty well without me.’
‘Well, asking questions is simple enough,’ said Lalmohan Babu. ‘But I cannot figure out what the answers add up to. Frankly, I am very much in the dark. If Lahiri was killed by an armed robber, the police will certainly catch him. Where is the mystery in all that?’
‘No ordinary robber would send anonymous notes before killing a man in an alley.’
‘Ye-es, I guess that’s true. Do you think the same person killed both Mahitosh Roy and Lahiri?’
‘Yes, either the same person, or two different people from the same gang.’
‘Yes, but the motive—?’
‘It could be that one of the other theatre companies had these two men killed. It will take Apsara a long time to replace two of their main actors, and re-establish themselves. A rival company could easily gain from their loss.’
Feluda’s foot was still painful. Perhaps he’d have to have an x-ray. He placed his injured foot on a coffee table, leant back on the sofa and said, ‘You’ve done a lot today. Let me now do my share of the work.’
‘What are you going to do?’
‘Think. There is a faint glimmer, but that needs to get brighter . . . and so I need to think.’
‘Very well, Felu Babu. You think as much as you need to. I am going to sit here very quietly and have a cup of tea. Tapesh, could you please go and tell Srinath?’
When I returned after telling Srinath to make us a fresh pot of tea, I saw Feluda frowning, his eyes closed. Was he going to solve the mystery without stepping out of the house?
A little later, he suddenly asked, ‘Did any of these actors appear to have an addiction of any kind? For instance, did any of them smoke?’
‘Yes, Dipen Bose did. Bhujanga Ray, I think, takes snuff; and Sudhendu Chakravarty was chewing supari.’
‘I see.’
Silence fell again. Lalmohan Babu poured himself a cup of tea when Srinath brought it, and began drinking it with great relish. I picked up a magazine and leafed through it. Feluda received a great number of magazines every month, some of which went straight into the wastepaper basket.
The silence continued for five minutes. Then Feluda opened his eyes. They were shining with excitement.
‘Lalmohan Babu!’ he called, his voice low.
‘Yes, sir?’
‘This Sudhendu Chakravarty, the newcomer . . . was he of medium height?’
‘Yes.’
‘And he had a clear complexion?’
‘Yes.’
‘Age between forty and forty-five?’
‘Why, yes! What is this, Felu Babu? Do you know the man?’
‘Not just I. You know him, too.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I think I’ve got it. . . but first let me ring Inspector Bhowmik.’
I dialled the number, and passed him the receiver.
‘Inspector Bhowmik?’ I heard him say. ‘This is Pradosh Mitter. Look, it’s about those actors from Apsara Theatre. I have just worked out who killed Nepal Lahiri. No, it wasn’t one of your ex-convicts. I will tell you everything, but I’m afraid you are going to have to come to me. I am still quite immobile. Yes, you can come in an hour, that’ll be fine. See you then.’
He put the receiver down and found Lalmohan Babu and me gaping at him.
‘All right, I won’t keep you in suspense any longer,’ he said with a smile. ‘You are dying to know who it was, aren’t you? This whole business was laughably simple on one hand, extremely complex on the other. Hats off to the murderer . . . he had even Felu Mitter completely stumped for a while. His motive was envy, pure envy . . . and nothing else. Nepal Lahiri had to be removed, so that someone else could take his place.’
‘What about Mahitosh Roy? He wasn’t a great star or anything.’
‘That is why he was not killed.’
‘What!’
‘Yes, Mahitosh Roy did not die. He just disappeared, simply so that he could orchestrate the whole thing from behind the scene. What he told me here—about receiving threats and then his own sudden disappearance—was all part of a plan. It was done just to create the impression that he had been murdered. He is actually still alive, living at a new address, and he’s given himself a new name. That brass container was dropped in the grass to make sure it was found, and we assumed that he had been attacked, killed and his body thrown into the lake.’
‘What a brain that fellow has!’
‘It took him three months to grow a beard. Then he returned to Apsara, taking care to change his voice whenever he spoke. Actually, a beard can alter one’s appearance completely. He knew he wouldn’t have any difficulty in filling the gap left by Mahitosh Roy. Apsara was looking for a new face.’
‘Sudhendu Chakravarty!’
‘Exactly. The only thing he couldn?
??t give up was his habit of chewing supari, but he should have known better than to have it in your presence. But there’s no doubt that his evil plans would have succeeded, if you two hadn’t helped me out. That man’s ambition has turned him into a ruthless killer. He took Nepal Lahiri’s watch just to pull the wool over our eyes. But then, he didn’t know he’d be up against Felu Mitter and his team, did he? Now he’s going to regret ever having come to me!’
Feluda was absolutely right. Inspector Bhowmik rang us the next morning to confirm everything that Feluda had told us.
Lalmohan Babu took me aside and whispered into my ear: ‘Now I know where the difference lies between your cousin and myself.’
‘Where?’
He tapped his head with a finger, and said sadly, ‘In here!’
Peril in Paradise
One
‘Where are we going this year?’ asked Lalmohan Babu, helping himself to a handful of savoury chana and washing it down with hot tea. ‘It’s now so infernally hot here in Calcutta that I think we’ve got to escape!’
‘Where would you like to escape to?’ Feluda queried. ‘You’re the one who’s so interested in travelling. I could quite happily remain in Calcutta all year.’
‘You’re not working on a case right now, are you?’
‘No.’
‘Well then, let’s get out of here.’
‘Yes, but where to?’
‘To the hills, naturally. I mean mountains . . . and that means the Himalayas. I don’t consider Vindhyachal or the Western Ghats as mountains. Where I want to go, Felu Babu, is where everyone wants to go. Some say your entire life is a waste of time if you haven’t seen this place.’
‘Where is it?’
‘Haven’t you guessed, even after so many hints?’
‘Paradise on earth?’
‘Exactly. Kashmir. Why don’t we go there, Felu Babu? We’ve both earned quite a lot of money, don’t you think? You haven’t got a family, nor have I. So why don’t we travel when we can, and enjoy ourselves? Do say yes. We could go from here to Delhi, then take a plane to Srinagar.’
‘Srinagar isn’t the only place worth seeing. There’s Pahalgam, Gulmarg, Khilanmarg—’