Mr Choudhury was still staring at Feluda. When he spoke, the velvet in his voice had taken on a sharp edge. ‘If you come across an unfamiliar word, Mr Mitter, do you always visit complete strangers just to learn its meaning?’

‘Yes, if need be.’

I thought Mr Choudhury would want to know what the pressing need was in this particular case. But, instead of asking such a question, he continued to stare at Feluda. The remark he made a few seconds later made my heart race faster, thudding loudly in my ears, matching the loud ticking of the clock kept on a side table.

‘You are a detective, aren’t you?’

I had to marvel at Feluda’s steady nerve. There was a delay of about five seconds before his reply came. But when he spoke, his own voice sounded perfectly smooth. ‘I see that you are well informed!’

‘I have to be, Mr Mitter. I have people who gather information and pass it on to me.’

‘You seem to have forgotten the question I just asked you. Perhaps you don’t know the answer. If you do know it, but do not wish to tell me, I will take your leave. There’s no point in wasting your time any further.’

‘Sit down, Mr Mitter!’

Feluda had risen to his feet, hence that command. I glanced quickly at Lalmohan Babu. He looked as if he had no strength left in his body, and would need assistance to get up.

‘Sit down, please,’ said Mr Choudhury.

Feluda sat down.

‘A repeater is a gun,’ Mahadev Choudhury informed us. ‘However, if you add “Perigal” to it, it becomes a watch. A pocket watch. Francis Perigal. An Englishman. Towards the end of the eighteenth century, there were few watchmakers in the world as skilled as Perigal. Two hundred years ago, the best watches were made in England, not Switzlerland.’

‘How much would a Perigal repeater be worth today?’

‘You could never afford to buy such a watch, Mr Mitter.’

‘Yes, I know.’

‘I could.’

‘I know that, too.’

‘Then why do you wish to know its price?’

‘Simple curiosity.’

‘Idle curiosity. It’s useless.’

Mr Choudhury took one last puff from his cigarette, took it out of its holder and stubbed it out in a glass ashtray. Then he stood up.

‘You have got the information you wanted. You may leave now. There is only one Perigal repeater in Calcutta. I am going to get it, not you ... Pyarelal!’

The same man returned, who had met us on arrival. As we were leaving the room, the smooth, velvety voice spoke once more: ‘I have a different kind of repeater, Mr Mitter. The sound it makes isn’t as melodious as a clock.’

*

‘That man appears to be the hero of this story!’ remarked Lalmohan Babu.