The Complete Adventures of Feluda: Volume I (23 page)

Feluda, Mr Sarkar and I were back in our hotel, sitting down to our dinner. Although the hotel was pretty average in many ways, it had an excellent cook.

‘A most decent fellow, I must say,’ remarked Mr Sarkar, trying to get the marrow out of a bone. A delicious lamb curry was on the menu tonight.

‘Who? You mean Dr Vaidya?’

‘Yes. What a remarkably gifted man, too. He seemed to know everything.’

‘Yes, you should be pleased,’ Feluda said, laughing. ‘Didn’t he tell you you were no longer in danger?’

‘Why, didn’t you believe what he said?’

‘If what he said turns out to be true, then of course I shall believe him. But, right now, I think we should be careful in what or whom we believe. There are so many cheats in this line.’ Feluda was frowning again. Something was obviously bothering him a great deal. I wish I knew what it was.

‘Do you believe what he said about the murder?’ Mr Sarkar persisted.

‘Yes, I do.’

‘Really? Why?’

‘There is a reason.’ Feluda refused to say anything more.

The two of us went out after dinner again to buy paan. It hadn’t yet started to rain, but there was virtually no breeze. Feluda put a paan in his mouth and began pacing. After only a few minutes, however, he stopped and said, ‘I’m only wasting my time like this. Tell you what, Topshe, why don’t you go for a walk for half an hour? I’d like to work alone in our room, undisturbed.’

I agreed, and Feluda walked away. I ambled across to the opposite pavement and made my way slowly down the road that led to the main town. All the shops were closed. A few men were sitting in a circle in front of a shop and gambling. I heard someone rattle the dice, which was followed by a great shout and loud laughter.

The street lights were dim, but even so I didn’t fail to notice the figure of a man coming from the opposite direction, walking very fast. As he came closer, I realized it was Helmut. Something stopped me from calling out to him. But he was so preoccupied that even when he passed me by, he didn’t seem to notice me at all. I stared foolishly at his receding back, until it vanished from sight. Then I looked at my watch and returned to the hotel.

Feluda was lying flat on his back, resting his notebook on his chest.

‘I brought the list of suspects up to date,’ he told me as I came in. ‘Well, Virendra Shelvankar was already a suspect, wasn’t he? It’s just that we didn’t know his name. Have you added Dr Vaidya’s name to your list?’

Feluda grinned. ‘The man put up a jolly good show, I must admit. Yet, the whole thing could be genuine, who knows? But we mustn’t forget that he and Shelvankar had talked to each other. There’s no way of making sure whether Dr Vaidya is a fraud or not unless we can find out what exactly the two had discussed.’

‘But he was right about Mr Sarkar, wasn’t he?’

‘That was easy enough. Mr Sarkar was biting his nails constantly. Anyone could have guessed he was tense.’

‘And what about the murder?’

‘He may have said that only to create an effect. A natural death, or death by a real accident, is too tame. Call it a murder, and it sounds
so much more dramatic.’

‘So who’s on your list of suspects?’

‘Everyone, as always.’

‘Everyone including Dr Vaidya?’

‘Yes. He may have known about the statue of Yamantak.’

‘And Helmut? He walked past me just now, but didn’t seem to see me.’

This did not appear to surprise Feluda. ‘Helmut struck me as a mysterious character right from the start. He’s supposed to be taking photographs for a book on Sikkim, and yet he didn’t know about the Lama dance in Rumtek. That’s reason enough to feel suspicious about him.’

‘Why? What can it mean?’

‘It can mean that he hasn’t told us the real reason why he is here in Sikkim.’ I began to feel quite confused, so I stopped asking questions. Feluda went back to scribbling in his notebook.

At a quarter to eleven, Mr Sarkar knocked on our door to say good-night. I tried to read a book after that, but couldn’t concentrate. Feluda spent his time either sitting silently or studying the entries in his notebook. I do not know when I fell asleep. When I woke, the mountains outside were bright with sunshine.

Feluda was not in the room. Perhaps he was having a shower. I noticed a piece of paper on his bed, placed under an ashtray. Had he left a message for me? I picked it up and found a Tibetan word staring at me. I knew what it meant.

Death.

Feluda was not in the bathroom. I learnt later that he had risen early that morning to make a trunk call to Bombay. When I came down for breakfast, I found him speaking to someone on the telephone.

‘I couldn’t get Mr Bose,’ he told me, putting the receiver down. ‘He left very early this morning. Perhaps he got my telegram.’

We ordered breakfast. ‘I’ll have to conduct an experiment today,’ Feluda revealed a few minutes later. ‘I think I made a mistake somewhere. I have to make sure.’

‘Where will you carry out this experiment?’

‘I need a quiet spot.’

‘You mean an empty room?’

‘No, no, you idiot. I could use our hotel room if that’s what I needed. I have to be out on the road, but I must not be seen. If anyone saw me, they’d definitely think I was mad. Let’s go towards Nathula Road after breakfast.’ We hadn’t yet seen any of the other large streets of Gangtok. The prospect of doing a little more exploration on foot was quite exciting.

We ran into Dr Vaidya as we came out of the hotel. He was wearing sunglasses today. ‘Where are you off to?’ he asked.

‘Just for a walk. We haven’t really seen much of the city. We were thinking of going towards the palace.’

‘I see. I am going to look for a jeep. It’s a good day to make that trip to Pemiangchi. If you don’t go there, you really will miss a lot.’

‘We do intend going there one day.’

‘Try to make it while I’m there. Gangtok isn’t a very safe place, particularly for you.’

Dr Vaidya left with a smile and a friendly wave.

‘Why did he say that?’ he asked.

‘He’s a very clever man. He wanted to startle us, that’s all. Clearly he’s seen I am involved in a complex matter, so he decided to say something odd for more effect.’

‘But you really have been threatened, haven’t you? I saw that piece of paper.’

‘That’s nothing new, is it?’

‘No, but—’

‘But nothing. If you think I’ll give up now simply because someone wrote a Tibetan word on a piece of paper, you don’t know me at all.’

I didn’t say anything, but thought to myself how well I did know him. Hadn’t I seen him work wonders in the case of the Emperor’s ring in Lucknow, despite being showered with threats and warnings?

We had been walking uphill and had now reached a point where the road spread out, almost like the Mall in Darjeeling. There was a small roundabout with yellow roadsigns. The one pointing right said ‘Palace’. There was a large, heavily decorated gate at the end of this road, which was obviously the gate of the palace. The sign on the left said ‘Nathula Road’. It seemed a quiet enough road. The few people we could see all appeared to be tourists, heading for the palace. ‘Let’s take this left turn. Quick!’ Feluda said.

We turned left and took the road that led to the Chinese border.
There was no one in sight. Feluda kept looking up at the hills through which the road had been built. We had now come to the eastern side of Gangtok. Kanchenjunga was on the west. I couldn’t see any of the snow-capped peaks from here, but what I could see was a ropeway.

It seemed so interesting that I stopped and stared at it, losing all track of time. I had to look up with a start a few minutes later, when I heard Feluda calling out to me. While I had been gazing at the busy ropeway, Feluda had climbed up the side of a hill, and was shouting from several feet above the road. ‘Hey, Topshe, come here!’

I left the road and joined him. Feluda was standing near a rock, nearly as large as a football. ‘I’m going down,’ he said. ‘I’ll come walking past the hill. Push this stone down when I tell you to. Just a little push will make it roll off the hill. Is that clear?’

‘Yes, sir. No problem!’

Feluda climbed down and disappeared in the direction from which I had come. ·

Then I heard him call, ‘Ready?’

‘Ready!’ I replied.

Feluda started walking. I couldn’t see him, but I heard his footsteps. A few moments later, he came vaguely within my line of vision, but before I could see him properly, I heard him shout, ‘Go!’ I pushed the rock, and it began to roll down. Feluda did not stop walking. By the time the rock landed on the road, he had crossed that area and gone ahead by at least ten steps.

‘Wait right there!’ he shouted again.

He then came back with the rock in his hand. It was still intact. ‘Now you go down, and walk past this hill exactly as you saw me do. I will throw this stone at you, but you must continue walking. If you can see it rolling down at enormous speed and feel that it might hit you, you’ll have to jump aside: Can you do that?’

‘Sure.’

I scrambled down, and started walking, keeping an eye on Feluda. I saw him standing still, waiting for the right moment. Then he kicked the stone. I kept on walking. The stone hit the ground a few seconds before I could reach the spot. Then it rolled down the slope on the left and disappeared.

Feluda sat down, slapping his forehead. I didn’t want to stand around like a fool, so I climbed up again.

‘What an ass I’ve been, Topshe! What a perfect idiot. This simple—’

‘Feluda!’ I screamed, quickly pulling him to one side. In the same instant, a huge boulder came crashing from the top of the hill and went down, missing us by inches and crushing a large flowering bush on the way. By the time it struck the road and vanished from sight, my breathing was starting to return to normal. Thank God I had looked up when Feluda was speaking. Thank God I had seen the boulder. If I hadn’t . . . I shuddered to think of the consequences.

‘Thanks, Topshe,’ Feluda said. ‘This place really appears unsafe. Let’s go back.’

We got down to the road and walked as fast as we could to the next crossing. There were benches on one side, placed under a canopy. We threw ourselves down on one of these. ‘Did you see anyone?’ asked Feluda, wiping his face.

‘No. That boulder came from quite a height. I couldn’t have seen who threw it even if I had had the time to look.’

‘I’ve got to move faster now. I’ve got to find a final solution!’

‘But there are so many questions that need to be answered.’

‘And who told you I haven’t found some of the answers already? Do you know what time I went to bed last night? At 2 a.m. I did a lot of thinking. And now this experiment merely confirmed every suspicion I had. Mr Shelvankar’s jeep had not been hit by a falling rock. One cannot commit a murder banking on a chance that’s one in a million. What really happened, I’m sure, was this: Mr Shelvankar was knocked unconscious. Then he was dropped into that ravine, along with the jeep. Someone pushed that boulder afterwards, just to make it look an accident.’

‘But the driver? What about him?’

‘He had been bribed. I’m sure of it.’

‘Or the driver himself might have killed him?’

‘No, that’s unlikely. He wouldn’t have had a sufficiently strong motive.’

Feluda rose. ‘Let’s get back, Topshe. We must find SKM 463.’ But SKM 463 was not in Gangtok, as it turned out. It had left for Siliguri the day before. ‘I think people want to hire it because it’s a new jeep,’ Feluda remarked.

‘What do we do now?’

‘Wait, let me think. I’m getting muddled.’

We returned to the hotel from the jeep stand. Feluda ordered cold drinks in the dining hall. His hair was dishevelled and he seemed greatly perturbed.

‘When did we arrive here?’ he asked suddenly.

‘Fourteenth April.’

‘And when was Shelvankar killed?’

‘On the eleventh.’

‘Apart from Shelvankar, Mr Sarkar was here in Gangtok, and Helmut and Dr Vaidya.’

‘And Virendra.’

‘All right, let us make that assumption. When did Mr Sarkar get that Tibetan warning?’

‘On the night of the fourteenth.’

‘Right. Who was in town that day?’

‘Helmut, Mr Bose, Virendra, and . . . and . . .’

‘Mr Sarkar.’

‘Yes, of course.’

‘He may well have committed a crime. Maybe he is trying to remove suspicion from himself by showing us a piece of paper with a Tibetan word written on it. He may have written it himself. His shrieks for help in Rumtek could have been a clever piece of acting.’

‘But what can he have done?’

‘I don’t know that yet, though I don’t think he killed Shelvankar.’

‘Well then, who is left?’

‘Dr Vaidya. Don’t forget him. We don’t know for sure whether he did go to Kalimpong or not.’

Feluda finished a glass of Sikkim orange in one gulp. Then he continued, ‘The only person whose movements cannot be questioned is Mr Bose, because he came with us and went to Bombay the next day. Someone in his house confirmed that he had indeed returned to Bombay. But he’s not there now. Maybe he’s on his way here. Perhaps our trip to Pemiangchi—’ Feluda stopped speaking. Someone had walked into the dining hall and was talking to the manager. It was our German friend, Helmut Ungar. The manager pointed at us. Helmut wheeled around. ‘Oh sorry, I didn’t realize you were here,’ he said, adding rather hesitantly, ‘There’s something I’d like to discuss with you. Do you think we could go up to your room?’

‘May I close the door?’ asked Helmut as we walked into our room.
Then he shut the door without waiting for an answer. I looked at him and began to feel vaguely uneasy. He was tall and strong, taller than Feluda by at least an inch. What did he want to do that required such secrecy? I had heard that some hippies took drugs. Was Helmut one of them? Would he—?

By this time, Helmut had placed his camera on my bed, and was opening a large red envelope with Agfa written on it.

‘Would you like a cup of tea?’ Feluda offered.

‘No, thanks. I came here only to show you these photos. I couldn’t get them printed here. So I had sent them to Darjeeling. I got the enlargements only this morning.’

Helmut took out the first photograph. ‘This was taken from the North Sikkim Highway. The road where the accident took place goes right across to the opposite hill. You can get a wonderful view of Gangtok from there. That is where I was that morning, taking photos of this view. Mr Shelvankar had offered to pick me up on his way. But his jeep never got to the spot where I was standing. I heard a noise as I was clicking, which made me turn around. What I saw from where I was standing has been captured in these photos that I took with my telephoto lens.’

It was a strange photo. Most of the details were clear, although it had been taken from a distance. A jeep was sliding down a hill. A few feet above it, a man was standing on the road, looking at the falling jeep. This was probably the driver. He was wearing a blue jacket. His face couldn’t be seen

Helmut took out the second photo. This was even stranger. Taken a few seconds after the first one, it showed the jeep lying wrecked by the side of the hill. Next to it, behind a bush, there was a partially hidden figure of a man in a dark suit, lying on the ground. The driver was still standing on the road, this time with his back to the camera, looking up at the hill. Right on top of the hill was another man, bending over a rock. His face was just as unclear, but he was wearing red clothes.

In the third photograph, this man in red could not be seen at all. The driver was running—in fact, he had nearly shot out of the frame. The jeep and the man in the dark suit were still lying on the ground. And the rock that was on top of the hill was now lying on the road, broken to pieces.

‘Remarkable!’ Feluda exclaimed. ‘I have never seen photographs like these!’

‘Well, it isn’t often that one gets such an opportunity,’ Helmut replied dryly.

‘What did you do after taking these pictures?’

‘I returned to Gangtok on foot. By the time I could walk across to the spot where the jeep had fallen, Mr Shelvankar had been taken away. All I could see was the broken jeep and the shattered rock. I heard about the accident the minute I reached Gangtok. I then went straight to the hospital where Mr Shelvankar had been taken. He remained alive for a couple of hours after I got there.’

‘Didn’t you tell anyone, about the photographs?’

‘No. There was no point, at least not until I could have the film developed, and use it as evidence. Yet, I knew it was not an accident, but murder. Had I been a little closer, the face of the murderer might have been clearer in the picture.’

Feluda took out a magnifying glass and began examining the large prints again. ‘I wonder if that man in red is Virendra?’ he said.

‘That’s impossible!’ Helmut declared. There was something in his voice that made us both look at him in surprise.

‘Why? How can you be so sure?’

‘Because I am Virendra Shelvankar.’

‘What!’ For the first time, I saw Feluda go round-eyed.

‘What do you mean? How can you be Virendra? You are white, you have blue eyes, you speak English with a German accent, your name . . .’

‘Please let me explain. You see, my father married twice. My mother was his first wife. She was a German. She met my father in Heidelburg when he was a student. That was where they got married. Her maiden name was Ungar. When I left India and settled in Germany, I started using this name, and changed my first name from Virendra to Helmut.’

My head started reeling. Helmut was Shelvankar’s son? Of course, if he had a German mother, that would explain his looks.

‘Why did you leave home?’ Feluda asked after a brief pause. ‘Five years after my mother died, my father married again. I couldn’t bring myself to accept this. I loved my mother very much. It’s not that I did not care for my father, but somehow when he remarried, I began to hate him. In the end, I thought leaving home was the only thing I could do to solve my problems. It wasn’t easy to travel to Europe on my own, and make a new beginning. For about eight years, I moved from place to place, and job to job. Then I
studied photography, and finally started to make money. A few years ago, I happened to be in Florence working on an assignment. A friend of my father’s saw me there and recognized me. He came back and told my father about it, after which he approached a detective agency to track me down. When I came to know about this, I grew a beard and changed the colour of my eyes.’

‘Contact lenses?’

Helmut smiled and took the lenses out of his eyes. His real eyes were brown, just like my own. He then put the lenses back and continued, ‘A year ago, I came to India with a group of hippies. I hadn’t stopped loving this country. But then I realized that the detective agency was still trying to trace me. I went to a monastery in Kathmandu. When someone found me even there, I came over to Sikkim.’

‘Wasn’t your father pleased to see you?’

‘He did not recognize me at all. I have lost a lot of weight since he last saw me. Besides, my long hair, my beard and blue eyes must have all worked together to stop him from recognizing his own son. He told me about Virendra, and how much he missed him. By this time, I, too, had forgotten my earlier dislike of my father. After all, whatever happened between us was now in the past. But when he failed to recognize me, I did not tell him who I was. I probably would have told him eventually, but. . . well, I never got the chance.’

‘Do you have any idea who the murderer might be?’

‘May I speak frankly?’

‘Of course.’

‘I don’t think we should let Dr Vaidya escape.’

‘I agree with you,’ said Feluda, lowering his voice.

‘I began to suspect him the minute he mentioned the name of Virendra that evening in my room. Obviously, he didn’t know I was the same person. I think he is a first class cheat, and I bet it was he who took that statue.’

‘When Mr Shelvankar set out that morning, was he alone?’

‘I don’t know. I left quite early, you see. Dr Vaidya may well have stopped the jeep on the way and asked for a lift. Naturally, at that stage, my father had no reason to suspect him. In any case, he was a simple man. He trusted everyone.’

Feluda stood up and began pacing. Then he stopped abruptly and said, ‘Would you like to go to Pemiangchi with us?

‘Yes. I am prepared to go anywhere to catch my father’s killer.’

‘Do you know how far it is?’

‘About a hundred miles from here. If the roads are good, we can get there in less than six hours. I think we should leave today, as soon as possible.’

‘Yes, you’re right. I’ll try to find a jeep.’

‘OK, and I’ll get rooms booked at the dak bungalow in Pemiangchi. By the way—’ Helmut turned back from the doorway, ‘a dangerous man like him may well be armed. I have nothing except a flashgun. Do you—?’

Without a word, Feluda slipped a hand inside his suitcase and brought out his revolver. ‘And here’s my card,’ he said, handing one of his cards of Helmut. ‘Pradosh C. Mitter, Private Investigator’, it said.

Unfortunately, we couldn’t get a jeep that day. The few there were had all been hired by American tourists for a day trip to Rumtek. We booked one for the next morning and spent the day walking around in the streets of Gangtok.

We ran into Mr Sarkar near the main market. ‘We’re going to Pemiangchi tomorrow,’ Feluda told him. ‘Would you like to join us?’

‘Oh sure. Thanks!’

In the evening, he came to our room carrying a strange object. A small white bundle was tied at the end of a stick. ‘I bet you can’t guess what this is,’ he said, beaming. ‘This is actually used to get rid of leeches. This small bundle contains salt and tobacco. If a leech attaches itself to your foot, just rub it once with this stick and it’s bound to drop off.’

‘But how can a leech attack anyone through heavy leather boots and nylon socks?’

‘I don’t know, but I’ve seen leeches slip through even very thick layers of clothes. The funny thing about leeches is that they can’t see. Suppose a number of people were walking in single file, no leech would attack the person at the head of the file. It would simply pick up the vibrations created by his movements. Then it would get ready to strike as the second person passed it by; and for the third, there would be no escape at all. He would definitely get bitten.’

We decided to take four similar sticks with us the next day.

‘It’s Buddha Purnima the day after tomorrow,’ Feluda remarked
as we were getting ready for bed. ‘There will be a big celebration here.’

‘Shall we get to see it?’

‘I don’t know. But if we can catch the man who killed Mr Shelvankar, that will make up for everything we miss seeing.’

The sky remained clear that night. I spent a long time looking at a moon that was nearly full. Kanchenjunga gleamed in its light.

The next day, the four of us left for Pemiangchi at five in the morning, with just a few essentials. Mr Sarkar did not forget the ‘leech-proof’ sticks.