I resigned myself to wait patiently for his return. Baba had gone out of town. So I wrote a letter for him, explaining why Feluda and I had to go to Simla before he got back. Having done this, I settled down on the settee in the living-room with a book. But I could not read. The more I thought about Feluda’s new case, the more confused I felt. Dinanath Babu, his nephew who acted in films, the irascible Mr Pakrashi, Mr Dhameeja of Simla, the moneylender called Brijmohan … everyone seemed unreal, as though each was wearing a mask. Even the contents of the Air-India case seemed false. And, on top of everything else, was last night’s frightening experience …

No, I must stop thinking. I picked up a magazine. It was a film magazine called Sparkling Stars. Ah yes, here was the photograph of Amar Kumar I had seen before. ‘The newcomer, Amar Kumar, in the latest film being made by Sri Guru Pictures’, said the caption. Amar Kumar was staring straight into the camera, wearing a cap very much in the style of Dev Anand in Jewel Thief, a scarf around his throat, a cruel smile under a pencil-thin moustache. There was a pistol in his hand, very obviously a fake, possibly made of wood.

Something made me suddenly jump up and turn to the telephone directory. Here it was—Sri Guru Pictures, 53 Bentinck Street. 24554.

I dialled the number quickly. It rang several times before someone answered at the other end.

‘Hello.’

‘Is that Sri Guru Pictures?’

My voice had recently started to break. So I was sure whoever I was speaking to would never guess I was really no more than fifteen-and-a-half.

‘Yes, this is Sri Guru Pictures.’

‘This is about Amar Kumar, you know … the newcomer in your latest film—’

‘Please speak to Mr Mallik.’ The telephone was passed to another man.

‘Yes?’

‘Mr Mallik?’

‘Speaking.’

‘Is there someone called Amar Kumar working in your latest film? The Ghost, I think it’s called?’

‘Amar Kumar has been dropped.’

‘Dropped?’

‘Who am I speaking to, please?’

‘I … well, I …’

Like a fool, I could think of nothing to say and put the receiver down hurriedly.

So Amar Kumar was no longer in the cast! It must have been because of his voice. How unfair, though, to reject him after his picture had been published in a magazine. But didn’t the man know, or did he simply pretend to us that he was still acting in the film?

I was lost in thought when the telephone rang, startling me considerably.

‘Hello!’ I gasped.

There was no response for a few seconds. Then I heard a faint click. Oh, I knew. Someone was calling from a public pay phone.

‘Hello?’ I said again. This time, I heard a voice, soft but distinct.

‘Going to Simla, are you?’