‘Yes, that’s right. There aren’t too many of those in this country. My father bought it in 1934. Are you interested in cars?’

Feluda smiled, ‘Yes, among other things. But my interests are chiefly related to my profession.’

‘I see. Allow me now to tell you why I’m here. You may find the whole thing totally insignificant. I am aware of your reputation, so there’s no way I can insist that you take the case. I can only make a request.’

There was a certain polish and sophistication in his voice and the way he spoke, but not even the slightest trace of arrogance. On the contrary, Mr Lahiri spoke gently and quietly.

‘Let’s hear the details of your case,’ said Feluda.

‘You may call it my case,’ said Mr Lahiri with a smile, pointing at the blue object in his hand, ‘or the tale of my attaché case … ha ha. You see, my story revolves round this attaché case.’

Feluda glanced at the case and said, ‘It seems to have gone abroad few times. The tags are torn but I can see the elastic bands on the handle—one, two, three, four …’

‘Yes, the handle of my own case also has elastic bands hanging from it.’

‘Your own case? You mean this one isn’t yours?’ ‘No. This belongs to someone else. It got exchanged with mine.’

‘I see. Where did this happen? In a plane, or was it a train?’

‘It was a train. Kalka Mail. I was coming back from Delhi. There were four passengers in a first class compartment, including myself. My attaché case must have got mixed up with one of the other three.’

‘I assume you do not know whose it was …?’

‘No. If I did, I don’t suppose I’d need your help.’

‘And you don’t know the names of the others?’

‘There was another Bengali. His name was Pakrashi. He travelled from Delhi, like me.’

‘How did you get to know his name?’

‘One of the other passengers happened to recognize him. I heard this other man say, “Hello, Mr Pakrashi!” and then they got talking. I think both were businessmen. I kept hearing words like contract and tender.’

‘You didn’t learn the name of this other man?’

‘No. He was not a Bengali, though he was speaking the language quite well. I gathered he came from Simla.’

‘And the fourth passenger?’

‘He stayed on one of the upper berths most of the time. I saw him climb down only during lunch and dinner. He was not a Bengali, either. He offered me an apple soon after we left Delhi and said it was from his own orchard. So perhaps he was from Simla, too.’

‘Did you eat that apple?’

‘Yes, certainly. It was a good, tasty apple.’

‘So you don’t mind eating things outside your regular hours when you’re in a train?’

Mr Lahiri burst out laughing.