‘Who rang you, Feluda?’ I asked, realizing instantly that I shouldn’t have, for Feluda was doing yoga. He never spoke until he had finished every exercise, including sheershasan. He had started this about six months ago. The result was already noticeable. Feluda seemed a lot fitter, and openly admitted that yoga had done him a world of good. I glanced at the clock. Feluda’s reply came seven and a half minutes later. ‘You don’t know him,’ he said, rising from the floor. Really, Feluda could be most annoying at times. So what if I didn’t know the man? He could tell me his name, surely? ‘Do you know him?’ I asked impatiently. Feluda began chewing chick-peas which had been soaked overnight. This was a part of his keep-fit programme. ‘I didn’t know him before,’ he replied, ‘but I do now.’ Our Puja holidays had started a few days ago. Baba had gone to Jamshedpur on tour. Only Ma, Feluda and I were at home. We didn’t plan to go out of town this time. I didn’t mind staying at home as long as I could be with Feluda. He had become quite well known as an amateur detective. So it shouldn’t be surprising at all, I thought, if he got involved in another case. My only fear was that he might one day refuse to take me with him. But that hadn’t happened so far. Perhaps there was an advantage in being seen with a young boy. No one could guess easily that he was an investigator, if we travelled together. ‘I bet you’re dying to know who made that phone call,’ Feluda added. This was an old technique. If he knew I was anxious for information, he never came to the point without beating about the bush and creating a lot of suspense. I tried to be casual. ‘Well, if that phone call had anything to do with a mystery, naturally I’d be interested,’ I said lightly. Feluda slipped on a striped shirt. ‘The man’s called Nilmoni Sanyal,’ he finally revealed, ‘He lives on Roland Road, and wants to see me urgently. He didn’t tell me why, but he sounded sort of nervous.’ ‘When do you have to go?’ ‘I told him I’d be there by nine. It’s going to take us at least ten minutes by taxi, so let’s go!’ On our way to Roland Road, I said to Feluda, ‘But suppose this Mr Sanyal is a crook? Suppose he’s called you over to his house only to cause you some harm? You’ve never met him before, have you?’ ‘No,’ said Feluda, looking out of the window. ‘There is always a risk in going out on a case like this. But mind you, if his sole intention was to cause me bodily harm, he wouldn’t invite me to his house. It would be far more risky for him if the police came to know. A hired goonda could do the job much more simply.’ Last year, Feluda had