The Complete Adventures of Feluda: Volume II (54 page)

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 seem 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.

Lalmohan Babu was similarly impressed, but I could see that he was thinking about Feluda and his investigation. ‘I can’t see why your cousin is reading all those diaries,’ he remarked after a while. ‘Surely those who have been hanged already will not come back to commit a fresh crime?’

‘No, but Feluda must have his own reasons.’

Manasbal was eighteen miles from Srinagar. By the time we got back, it was half past six. Feluda was still in the living room, reading a diary. ‘I have finished reading eleven of them,’ he told us. ‘Each one was interesting.’

‘Really? But did it do you any good? I mean, can you now see your way forward?’

‘It isn’t always’ possible to tell in advance what good a certain activity might do. All I am interested in, right now, is gathering information; and I’ve learnt some new things today, not only from the diaries. For instance, Vijay Mallik came and told me that when he was pushed, he felt something cold and metallic touch his neck. I think it was a ring, but that doesn’t really help because three people were wearing rings yesterday—Mr Som, Mr Sarkar and Prayag. If the culprit was someone outside this group, there’s no way we can catch him. Dozens of people must wear rings.’

‘Yes, but how many went to Khilanmarg yesterday?’

‘I can remember a group of Punjabis. There were five of them. Three were on horseback.’

‘I don’t think anything unpleasant is going to happen now, Felu Babu.’

‘I hope you are right. Who wants problems in paradise, especially when I can’t exercise my brain?’

Feluda finished reading the remaining diaries the next day. ‘What did they tell you?’ Lalmohan Babu asked.

‘There were six cases, in which Mr Mallik seemed sure that the accused should have been sent to prison, not hung. He was very unhappy about the sentences he had himself passed. One case in particular involved a Kashmiri called Sapru. Mr Mallik felt such remorse after sentencing him to death that he developed angina soon afterwards, and had to retire.’

Pahalgam was sixty miles from Srinagar. It was a small town in the Lidar valley. The river Lidar flowed by its side. It was not a large river, but moved with considerable force. Many foreigners came to catch trout in it. Snow-covered mountains were visible from Pahalgam. A few hotels had been built recently, but it was still possible to stay in tents by the river. That was what we decided to do.

We left in four taxis, and reached Pahalgam by twelve o’clock. To the west of the river stood hills, without any sign of habitation. To the east lay the town, complete with hotels, restaurants and shops. Like everything else we had seen so far in Kashmir, it looked absolutely enchanting.

When we arrived, our tents were being put up. They were special tents, almost like apartments, including bedrooms, dining rooms and even attached bathrooms. We had one tent; Mr Mallik had been given two. The river was only about twenty yards away. The sound of its gushing waters did not stop even for a second.

‘I had seen people live like this only in Hollywood westerns,’ Lalmohan Babu enthused. ‘Who knew one day I would be staying outdoors?’

After lunch, we saw Mr Som making his way to our tent.

‘Have you had lunch?’ he asked.

‘Yes, we’ve just finished.’

‘There’s a place called Chandanwadi, eight miles from here. Did
you know that?’

‘Isn’t there a bridge there that stays covered by snow throughout the year?’

‘Yes.’

‘Do you plan to see it?’

‘Yes. Would you like to come with us?’

‘Certainly, but we’ve only just arrived. Why don’t we look at Pahalgam today, and go to Chandanwadi tomorrow?’

‘That’s what I was going to suggest myself. I only came to invite you today.’

‘Thank you. Perhaps we really ought to travel together. I could keep an eye on things. What’s happened already is bad enough. I wouldn’t hesitate to call it attempted murder. Vijay Mallik is a lucky man to be alive today.’

‘We could leave tomorrow after lunch, say around two. We’ll have to take horses and ride the eight miles.’

Mr Mallik came out of his tent, calling his bearer: ‘Prayag! Prayag!’

Prayag was washing his hands in the river. He did not reply. ‘Perhaps he can’t hear you because of the noise from the river,’ Feluda remarked.

‘No, he’s a little deaf. I usually have to call him at least three times before he can answer me.’ Mr Mallik shouted again. This time, Prayag heard him and came running.

‘Bring me my walking stick,’ Mr Mallik ordered.

‘Ji, huzoor,’ said Prayag and went inside. I saw Feluda give Prayag a sharp glance, but could not figure out why.

In the meantime, Vijay and Mr Sarkar had emerged from their tent. Mr Sarkar was probably planning to stay with the Malliks throughout their tour.

‘We’re going to Chandanwadi tomorrow,’ said Mr Som. The others nodded approvingly. Feluda turned to us. ‘Why don’t you get a couple of chairs from the tent and sit here by the river?’ he said. ‘I want to go for a walk. That ought to clear my head.’

‘When will you be back?’

‘In an hour, I should think.’

‘I hope you’ve got your reliable weapon with you?’

‘Oh yes.’

Feluda left. Lalmohan Babu and I sat outside, enjoying the scenic beauty of Kashmir. The others returned to their tents. Lalmohan
Babu said he had thought of a plot for his next novel and described it to me. I listened to him carefully, then suggested a few changes. All this took about an hour and a half. Sitting by the river was so pleasant that we nearly lost track of time, but Lalmohan Babu suddenly looked at his watch and exclaimed, ‘It’s two hours since your cousin left! Surely he should have been back by now?’

I gave a start. I had completely forgotten about Feluda.

‘What should we do?’ Lalmohan Babu went on. My years with Feluda had taught me to take quick decisions. I stood up. ‘Let’s go and look for him,’ I said.

‘All right.’

We had seen Feluda go up a narrow path. We went the same way, slowly climbing up a hill. The path ran through a pine wood, but we were no longer in a mood to appreciate its beauty. Something awful must have happened, or Feluda would have been back by now.

In half an hour, my worst suspicions were confirmed. We found Feluda sprawled on the ground behind a bush. My throat went dry immediately. I could barely move. It was Lalmohan Babu who leapt forward and felt his pulse.

‘It’s all right, he’s alive!’ he cried. A few seconds later, Feluda groaned and sat up slowly. Then he felt the back of his head and made a face. ‘This time he did not miss,’ he said to me. ‘Whoever it was, Topshe, hit his target most accurately.’

‘Can you get up?’

‘Yes, yes, my head’s aching; there’s nothing wrong with my legs.’ He rose to his feet, leaning on us for support. Then he took a couple of cautious steps and said, ‘OK, I think I can walk now.’ Lalmohan Babu released his arm and said, ‘Did you see who did it?’

‘No. That would have solved the entire mystery, Lalmohan Babu. Our culprit isn’t a fool. I have to think very hard, look at everything from a different angle. I need more time . . .’

We returned to our tent. Later that night, Mr Mallik called us over for another seance. We had seen one before we left Srinagar, during which the spirit of someone called Shasmal had appeared and admitted that he was indeed a murderer, so the sentence passed on him was fully justified.

This was to be our third seance. Tonight, Mr Mallik wanted to speak to Sapru, the same Kashmiri man Feluda had told us about. Dr Majumdar was a very good medium indeed. Sapru arrived within minutes.

‘Why have you called me here?’ he asked.

‘I was the judge at your murder trial. I was responsible for your death.’

‘You passed the sentence . . . yes, I am aware of that.’

‘I don’t think you committed the murder.’

‘You’re right, I didn’t. It was committed by a man called Haridas Bhagat. The police went off on the wrong track and arrested me. But none of that matters any more.’

‘I have been worried since 1978. I have had no peace.’

‘Would you like me to say I forgive you?’

‘Yes!’

‘Very well then, I do. But I cannot speak for my family. They may never be able to forgive you.’

‘That does not matter. I am only interested in your forgiveness.’

‘You may set your mind at rest. I have nothing against you. Goodbye!’

The seance was over. Mr Mallik looked visibly relieved.

We returned to our tent. I was so tired that I fell asleep almost as soon as my head touched the pillow.

Seven

The next morning, Feluda shook me awake. One look at his face told me something disastrous had happened.

‘Mr Mallik has been murdered!’ he said briefly.

‘Wha-at!’

My scream woke Lalmohan Babu.

‘Last night,’ Feluda went on, ‘someone stabbed him in the chest after midnight. Then he smashed his head in as well, just to make sure, I suppose. It’s a horrible sight.’

Lalmohan Babu and I sprang to our feet, threw some warm clothes on and came out of our tent. I could hardly believe what I had just heard.

Everyone else was gathered outside Mr Mallik’s tent, looking baffled and distressed. Vijay Mallik had left to inform the police. The main town wasn’t far, so it shouldn’t be long before the police came.

Dr Majumdar had been the first to discover the body. The weapon had not been found.

‘It will probably never be found,’ I thought to myself. ‘No doubt it’s been thrown into the river. God knows how far it’s already travelled with the gushing waters!’

But it wasn’t just a case of murder. A valuable diamond ring Mr Mallik used to wear on the third finger of his right hand (given to him by a Gujarati client) was missing.

Feluda was talking to Dr Majumdar. ‘When did Mr Mallik go to bed last night?’ he asked.

‘Much before any of us did. Normally, he used to retire by nine o’clock, unless he wanted to sit up late for a seance.’

‘You are a doctor. Can’t you tell us when he might have been killed?’

‘At a guess, I’d say he was killed between two and two-thirty in the morning. But a police surgeon will be able to fix the time of death far more precisely.’

‘You didn’t hear any noises last night? Nothing that might have disturbed your sleep?’

‘No. I sleep very soundly, Mr Mitter. I hardly ever wake up at night. But I am an early riser. I got up as usual at six-thirty this morning, and discovered what had happened. Prayag had risen before me, but had gone out of the tent without looking in on his master. So he didn’t see anything.’

‘Do you have any idea who might have done this?’

‘No, none whatsoever.’

At this moment, a police jeep arrived and stopped a few feet away. Vijay climbed out of it, followed by a police officer in uniform. ‘I am Inspector Singh,’ he said to us. ‘I am taking charge of this case. Where’s the dead body?’

Vijay took him inside. We remained where we were. A couple of constables and a photographer followed them in and began their work. I had seen this many times before, so this time I felt no curiosity. Besides, I had no wish to see Mr Mallik’s dead body. All I could think of was how he had been worried about sentencing innocent people to death, and now he was dead himself. Would his killer ever be caught and brought to justice?

Feluda had moved to one side and was standing alone. Lalmohan Babu went over to talk to him. ‘What’s the matter, Felu Babu?’

‘I was trying to unravel a tangle—now I am more confused than ever. That’s the matter, Lalmohan Babu. Now let’s see if the police can do anything.’

‘Don’t tell me you have given up?’

‘No, no, of course I haven’t. I know a lot of things the police don’t. But what I can’t make out is whether everything is linked together, or whether they are all separate incidents. Someone threw a stone at me, and someone pushed Vijay Mallik. Was it the same person? And did he also commit the murder? But then, if the main motive was theft, then anyone could have walked in to steal the diamond ring and been forced to kill its owner. But—’ Feluda stopped. After a few seconds, he added, ‘I cannot rule out murder by a burglar, but what I really think is that someone known to Mr Mallik is responsible for his death.’

‘Known to him? Who?’

‘Everyone he’s been travelling with, including Mr Sarkar. Don’t forget the golden ring he wears. It has the letter “S” engraved on it.’

I failed to see how this was significant, but couldn’t ask because at this moment, Inspector Singh and Vijay Mallik emerged from the tent.

‘Do all three tents belong to one single party?’ the inspector asked. ‘No. The first two are ours. The third is Mr Mitter’s.’

‘Mr Mitter?’

‘Pradosh Mitter. He is a well-known private investigator from Calcutta.’

Inspector Singh frowned a little, then walked across to us. ‘Mr Mitter? Are you the one who helped solve the murder case in Rajgarh?’ he asked.

‘Yes, that’s right.’

The inspector offered his hand and shook Feluda’s. ‘Pleased to meet you, sir,’ he said. ‘The officer who worked with you on that case—Inspector Vajpayee—is a good friend of mine. I have heard a lot about you. In fact, he had nothing but praise for you.’

‘That is very kind of him. But I am here at this moment purely by chance. I wasn’t called in to solve any crime. You mustn’t think I am going to interfere in your work.’

‘No, I wasn’t thinking that at all. But since you know the family already, why don’t you proceed with your own investigation? I think it was the job of an outsider, you know. The man who stabbed Mr Mallik was left-handed. Everyone present here, I can see, is right-handed. Anyway, please feel free to make your own enquiries, if you so wish.’

‘Thank you. I can’t just stand by and do nothing, Inspector Singh.
You see, I was attacked too. Not once, but twice.’

‘Good heavens, I didn’t know that! Oh, by the way,’ the inspector turned to Vijay, ‘What do you want to do with the body? Would you like to take it back to Calcutta?’

‘No, there is no need to do that. There is no one left in my family. My mother and brother are both dead.’

‘Very well, I will make arrangements for a funeral here. But you must understand one thing. Until certain things become a little clearer, no one from your own party can leave Pahalgam. You are all under suspicion, and I’d like to ask you questions in due course . . . yes, each one of you.’

Other books

Night Vision by Randy Wayne White
Nobody's Dream by Kallypso Masters
Child of the Storm by R. B. Stewart
Larkin's Letters by Jax Jillian
Shaken (Colorado Bold Book 1) by McCullough, Maggie
WickedTakeover by Tina Donahue
Katharine's Yesterday by Grace Livingston Hill