Vikas Chakravarty worked in Park Auction House in Park Street. Feluda knew him well. They had got to know each other when Feluda’s investigations had taken him to the auction house, in connection with a case. He had had to pay more than one visit.

‘I passed that shop only the other day. There were a lot of old clocks and watches displayed in the window. I have a strong feeling Godwin’s repeater was a clock, not a gun.’

Feluda then proceeded to tell me more about what he had read in Charlotte Godwin’s diary. Apparently, Charlotte had mentioned a niece. She had referred to her as ‘my dear clever niece’. This niece had done something to offend her grandfather, Thomas. But Thomas forgave her before he died, and gave her his blessings.

Charlotte had also talked about her brothers, David and John. We had seen David’s grave in the cemetery in Lower Circular Road. John had returned to England and killed himself there. Charlotte did not know why.

Lalmohan Babu turned up a little later. ‘Until yesterday,’ he told us, ‘I was in a dilemma. Pulak had told me to write a new story for his next film—one with a devotional theme. So I couldn’t decide whether to stay at home and start writing, or stick with you and see how this case develops. After what happened yesterday, I have no doubt left. Thrill is better than religion. By the way, did you find anything in that casket?’

‘Yes. I found diaries nearly one hundred and twenty-five years old. They told me that, if Thomas Godwin’s grave was dug up, one might find a Perigal repeater.’

‘Peter? What Peter?’

‘Let’s go out. How much petrol have you got?’

‘Ten litres. Filled my car only this morning.’

‘Good. We have a lot of travelling to do.’

*

Feluda frowned as we stepped into Park Auction House.

‘Mr Mitter! How are you? Do come in. This must be my lucky day. Are you here on a new case?’ Mr Chakravarty came forward to greet us. He was plump, his cheeks bulging with paan. Something in his appearance immediately made me think he was from north Calcutta.

‘I can see that you’ve had quite a lot of luck,’ Feluda remarked. ‘I saw about eight clocks—big and small— in your window quite recently. Have you sold them all?’

‘Clocks? You want a clock? What kind? A wall clock, or an alarm clock?’

Feluda was still looking around. I knew instinctively that Mr Chakravarty was not the kind of person who would know anything about a clock with a long and difficult name. Feluda asked him, anyway.