‘Yes. They were as common in those days as crows and sparrows are today. They were big birds, about four and a half feet high. They went about pecking at all the rubbish they could find in the streets. If they saw a corpse floating down the Ganges, they would perch themselves on it and get a free ride down the river.’

‘Oh, that’s awful! It must have been all quite wild and barbaric. How terrible.’

‘Yet, in the same city, where those birds roamed, there was the house of the Governor-General, St John’s Church, the Park Street Cemetery, theatres in Theatre Road, and a lot of other buildings where the British lived. That area was known as White Town. Native Indians were not allowed to live there. North Calcutta was known as Black Town.’

‘Oh, that makes my blood boil!’ Lalmohan Babu declared.

As we turned into Park Street, Feluda asked the driver to stop before we could reach the Blue Fox. ‘I have to check something at that bookshop,’ he explained.

Lalmohan Babu was not interested in Oxford Book Company, as they did not sell his books. ‘Long live the shops in College Street and Black Bookshop in Ballygunj,’ he told us.

Feluda went into the shop, glanced briefly at the shelves, then went and stood at a counter. Rows of stationery were displayed on it—red and blue notebooks, files, diaries, engagement pads. Feluda picked up a blue notebook and looked at its price. Rs 12.50. We had seen an identical notebook on Naren Biswas’s desk.

‘May I help you?’ A shop assistant came forward.

‘Would you have a collection of Queen Victoria’s letters?’ Feluda asked.

‘Queen Victoria? No, sir. But if you can let us know the name of the publisher, we can get it for you. If it’s either Macmillan or Oxford University, we can ask their Calcutta office.’

Feluda thought for a moment. Then he said, ‘All right. I’ll get back to you.’

We came out on Park Street again. Our car was now parked in front of the Blue Fox. We began walking towards the restaurant.

‘Stop!’ Feluda said, taking out his own notebook from his pocket. ‘I can’t read if I have to keep walking in this crowd.’

A few seconds later, he shut the notebook and resumed walking. ‘Did you find anything?’ I asked.

‘Let’s first go and sit down,’ Feluda replied.

When we were finally seated, Lalmohan Babu told us why he had chosen that restaurant. It was only because he liked the name ‘Blue Fox’, he said. He’d never been there before; in fact, he’d never eaten at any restaurant in Park Street. ‘Look,’ he said, ‘I live in Gorpar. My publishers are in College Street. Where is the opportunity—or the need—for me to come and eat somewhere in this area?’