‘Was there anything in your case that might give one an idea of your name and address?’

‘No, not as far as I can recall.’

‘Hm. Could you now please describe your fellow passengers?’

Dinanath Babu tilted his head and stared at the ceiling, frowning a little.

‘Pakrashi would have been about the same age as me. Between sixty and sixty-five. He had salt-and-pepper hair, brushed back. He wore glasses and his voice was rather harsh.’

‘Good.’

‘The man who offered me the apple had a fair complexion. He was tall and slim, had a sharp nose, wore gold-framed glasses and was quite bald except for a few strands of black hair around his ears. He spoke to me only in English, with a flawless accent. And he had a cold. He kept blowing his nose into a tissue.’

‘A pukka sahib, I see! And the third gentleman?’

‘His appearance was really quite ordinary—there was nothing that one might have noticed in particular. But he was the only one who ordered a vegetarian thali.’

Feluda jotted all this down in his notebook. Then he looked up and asked, ‘Anything else?’

‘No, I can’t recall anything else worth reporting. You see, I spent most of the day reading. And I fell asleep soon after dinner. I don’t usually sleep very well in a train. But this time I slept like a baby until we arrived at Howrah. In fact, it was Mr Pakrashi who woke me.’

‘In that case, presumably you were the last person to leave the coach?’

‘Yes.’

‘By which time one of the other three had walked out with your attaché case?’

‘Yes.’

‘Hm,’ Feluda said, shutting his notebook, ‘I’ll see what I can do.’

Dinanath Babu rose.

‘I will, of course, pay your fee. But you will naturally need something to begin your investigation. I brought some cash today for this purpose.’ He took out a white envelope from his pocket and offered it to Feluda, who took it coolly with a casual ‘Oh, thanks’ and stuffed it into his own pocket, together with his pencil.

Dinanath Babu came out and began walking towards his car. ‘You will get my telephone number from the directory,’ he said, ‘please let me know if you hear anything. As a matter of fact, you can come straight to my house if need be. I am usually home in the evening.’

The yellow Hispano Suiza disappeared in the direction of Rashbehari Avenue, blowing its horn like a conch shell, startling all passers-by. We returned to the living-room. Feluda took the chair Dinanath Babu had occupied. Then he crossed his legs, stretched lazily and said, ‘Another twenty-five years … and people with such an aristocratic style will have vanished.’

The blue case was still lying on the table. Feluda took its contents out one by one. Each object was really quite ordinary. Whoever bought them could not have spent more than fifty rupees.