‘Very well,’ said Feluda, ‘if you will not open your mouth, allow me to do the talking. Pray tell me if I get anything wrong. You had got the diamond from that Nepali box, hadn’t you? It was possibly the same jewel that the Rana of Nepal had given to Shambhucharan as a token of his gratitude. That box, in fact, must have been Shambhucharan’s property; and he must have left it before his death with his friend, Satinath Lahiri. Satinath brought it back to India with him, but was unable to tell anyone about the diamond, presumably because by the time he returned, he was seriously ill. You found it only a few days ago purely by chance. Then you painted it brown and kept it together with chopped betel-nuts in that empty film container. When your uncle gave you the Air-India attaché case, you thought it would be perfectly safe to hide your diamond in it. But what you didn’t foresee was that only a day later, the case would make its way from your room to mine. You eavesdropped, didn’t you, when your uncle was talking to us that evening in your house? So you decided to steal it from me. When the telephone call from a fictitious Mr Puri and the efforts of your hired hooligans failed, you chased us to Delhi. But even that didn’t work, did it? You took a very great risk by breaking into our room in the hotel, but the diamond still eluded your grasp. There was really only one thing you could do after that. You followed us to Simla and planned this magnificent fiasco.’

Feluda stopped. We were all standing round, staring at him, totally fascinated.

‘Tell me, Mr Lahiri, is any of this untrue?’

The look in Prabeer Lahiri’s eyes underwent a swift change. His eyes glittered and his lips spread in a cunning smile. ‘What are you talking about, Mr Mitter?’ he asked almost gleefully. ‘What diamond? I know nothing about this!’

My heart missed a beat. The diamond was lost in the snow. Perhaps forever. How could Feluda prove—?

‘Why, Mr Lahiri,’ Feluda said softly, ‘are you not acquainted with this little gem?’

We started again. Feluda had slipped his hand into a different pocket and brought out another stone. Even in the fading light from the overcast sky, it winked merrily.

‘That little stone that’s buried in the snow was something I bought this morning at the Miller Gem Company in Simla. Do you know how much I spent on it? Five rupees. This one is the real …’

He couldn’t finish. Prabeer Lahiri sprang up like a tiger and jumped on Feluda, snatching the diamond from his hand.

Clang!

This time, Feluda, too, gave a start. This unexpected noise was simply the result of Lalmohan Babu’s boomerang hitting Prabeer Lahiri’s head. He sank down on the snow again, unconscious. The diamond returned to Feluda.