re you Feluda?’ The question wafted up from somewhere near Feluda’s waist. A little boy of about six was standing next to Feluda, tilting his head to look up at him. Only a few days ago, one of the local dailies had published an interview with Feluda, with a photograph that showed him sitting with a Charminar in his hand. As a result, people now recognized him nearly everywhere, almost as if he was a film star. Today, we were at the Hobby Centre at the corner of Park Street and Russell Street. It sold many interesting things, apart from toys and goldfish. Our Uncle Sidhu was soon going to turn seventy. Feluda had decided to come to the Hobby Centre to look for a good chess set for him. Feluda placed a hand gently on the boy’s head. ‘Yes, that’s right,’ he said. ‘Can you catch the thief who took my bird?’ said the boy, sounding as though he was throwing him a challenge. Before Feluda could reply, a gentleman of about the same age as Feluda walked over to us quickly, carrying a longish object wrapped in brown paper. He looked both pleased and slightly embarrassed. ‘Tell Feluda your own name,’ he said to the boy. ‘Aniruddha Haldar,’ the boy declared solemnly. ‘One of your many young admirers,’ the gentleman laughed. ‘His mother has read out to him all the stories about your adventures.’ ‘What’s this about a bird?’ ‘Oh, that’s nothing. He said he wanted to keep a bird, so I bought him a chandana. Someone took it out of its cage the day it arrived.’ ‘There’s just one feather left,’ Aniruddha told us. ‘Really?’ ‘Yes. It was there in the cage when I went to bed, but was gone in the morning. Great mystery?’ ‘Yes, that’s what it looks like, doesn’t it? Can’t Aniruddha Haldar shed any light on the mystery?’ ‘Why, I am not a detective! I’m only in the second standard in school.’ The child’s father intervened. ‘Come along now, Anu, we have to go to New Market. What you might do is ask Feluda to come to our house.’ Anu looked very pleased at this, and shyly repeated his father’s invitation. ‘My name is Amitabh Haldar,’ the gentleman said, offering his card. Feluda took it and looked at it briefly. ‘I see you live in Barasat,’ he remarked. ‘Yes. You may have heard of my father, Parvaticharan Haldar.’ ‘Oh yes. I’ve even read some of his articles. He’s got a large collection of antiques, hasn’t he?’

‘That’s right. He used to be a barrister, but now he’s retired. His chief passion in life is collecting ancient artefacts. He’s travelled very widely, all over the world, to add to his collection. I think you’ll enjoy seeing some of it—he’s got an ancient gramophone, a chessboard from Mughal times, Warren Hastings’s snuff box, Napoleon’s letter . . . you know, things like that. Our house itself is quite interesting, it’s a hundred and fifty years