Incident On the Kalka Mail by Satyajit Ray

Author:Satyajit Ray [Ray, Satyajit]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9789351181385
Publisher: Penguin Books Ltd
Published: 2013-01-10T00:00:00+00:00

We were planning to have an early night and go to bed by ten o’ clock, but at a quarter to ten, the door bell rang. Who could it be at this hour? I opened the door and was immediately struck dumb to find a man who I never dreamt would ever pay us a visit. If Feluda was similarly surprised, he did not show it.

‘Good evening, Mr Pakrashi,’ he said coolly, ‘please come in.’

Mr Pakrashi came in, a slightly embarrassed look on his face, a smile hovering on his lips. His ill-tempered air was gone. What had happened in a day to bring about this miraculous change? And what had he come to tell us so late in the evening?

He sat down on a chair and said, ‘Sorry to trouble you. I know it’s late. I did try to ring you, but couldn’t get through. So I thought it was best to call personally. Please don’t mind.’

‘We don’t. Do tell us what brings you here.’

‘I have come to make a request. It is a very special request. In fact, it may strike you as positively strange.’

‘Really?’

‘You said something about a manuscript in Dinanath Lahiri’s attaché case. Was it … something written by Shambhucharan Bose? You know, the same man who wrote about the Terai?’

‘Yes, indeed. An account of his visit to Tibet.’

‘My God!’

Feluda did not say anything. Naresh Pakrashi, too, was quiet for a few moments. Then he said, ‘Are you aware that my collection of travelogues is the largest and the best in Calcutta?’

‘I am fully prepared to believe that. I did happen to glance at those almirahs in your room; and I caught the names of quite a few very well-known travel writers.’

‘Your powers of observation must be very good.

‘That is what I live by, Mr Pakrashi.’

Mr Pakrashi now took the pipe out of his mouth, looked straight at Feluda and said, ‘You are going to Simla, aren’t you?’

It was Feluda’s turn to be surprised. He did not actually ask, ‘How do you know?’ But his eyes held a quizzical look.

Mr Pakrashi smiled. ‘A clever man like you,’ he said, ‘would naturally not find it too difficult to discover that Dinu Lahiri’s attaché case had got exchanged with Dhameeja’s. I had seen Dhameeja’s name written on his suitcase. He did, in fact, take out his shaving things from the blue Air-India case, so I knew it was his.’

‘Why didn’t you say so yesterday?’

‘Isn’t it a greater joy to have worked things out for yourself? It is your case, after all. You will work on it and get paid for your pains. Why should I voluntarily offer any help?’

Feluda appeared to be in agreement. All he said was, ‘But you haven’t yet told me what your strange request is.’

‘I am coming to that. You will—no doubt—manage to retrieve Dinanath’s case. And the manuscript with it. I would request you not to give it back to him.’

‘What!’ This time Feluda could not conceal his surprise. Nor could I.

‘I suggest you pass the manuscript to me.

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