Free A Killer in Kailash: Adventures of Feluda by Satyajit Ray

realized it was a fairly deep hole. Now Feluda peered closely at the ground again. Lalmohan Babu and I both saw what had claimed his attention.
    There was a deep crease on the ground, running from the edge of the cliff to the hole.
    ‘Do you know what this is?’ Feluda asked me. I couldn't answer. Feluda went on, ‘This mark was left by a rope. Someone had tied a rope to a crowbar, dug the crowbar deep into the ground, and gone down—or tried to go down—the cliff, using that rope. Remember the noise we heard yesterday? It was the noise of the rope being pulled back. Since there was no way to get into the cave below from the front, someone found this way to reach it from the rear.’
    ‘But … what sort of a rope could it have been?’ Lalmohan Babu asked. ‘I mean … if you had to climb down a hundred feet, you’d need a remarkably strong rope, wouldn't you?’
    ‘Yes. A nylon rope would do the trick. It would be light, but very very strong.’
    ‘That means there was a second person here,’ I said slowly. ‘I mean, apart from Mr Bose.’
    ‘Right. This second person removed the rope, and the crowbar. We don't yet know whether he was Bose's friend or foe, but there is something that indicates he might have been the latter.’
    I looked quickly at Feluda. What did he mean? In reply, he took out a small object from his pocket and placed it on his palm. It was a piece of blue cloth, torn presumably from a shirt. Who was wearing a blue shirt yesterday?
    Mr Jayant Mallik!
    ‘Where did you find it?’ I asked. My voice shook.
    ‘Bose was lying on his stomach. His arms were spread wide. His right hand was closed around this piece of cloth, but a small bit was sticking out between two fingers. He and this other man must have struggled with each other by the cliff. Bose clutched at the shirt the other man was wearing. But then he fell, taking this little piece with him.’
    ‘You mean he was deliberately pushed off the cliff?’ Lalmohan Babu gasped. ‘You m-mean it was m-m-murder?’
    Feluda did not give a direct answer. After a few seconds of silence, he simply said, ‘If the statues in the temple are still intact, we must thank Mr Bose for it. It was because of his presence here last night that the thief couldn't get away with it.’

 
    C HAPTER 9
     
    W hen we climbed down eventually and went back to the main entrance to the temple, the members of the film unit had all disappeared. There were knots of local people, curious and excited. The big American car had been replaced by a jeep. An intelligent and smart-looking man—possibly in his mid-thirties—saw Feluda and came forward to greet him. It turned out to be Mr Kulkarni, the manager of the Tourist Guest House.
    ‘We realized only this morning that Mr Bose had not returned last night,’ he said, shaking his head regretfully. ‘I sent a bearer to look for him, but of course he couldn't find him anywhere.’
    ‘What is going to happen now?’ Feluda asked.
    ‘The police in Aurangabad have been informed. They’re sending a van to collect the body. Mr Bose had a brother in Delhi. He'll have to be informed, naturally… It is really very sad. The man was a true scholar. He came once before, in 1968. I believe he was writing a book on Ellora.’
    ‘Isn't there a police station here?’
    ‘Yes, but it's only a small outpost. An assistant sub-inspector is in charge, a man called Ghote. He's inspecting the body at the moment.’
    ‘Could I meet him?’
    ‘Certainly. Oh, by the way—’ Mr Kulkarni stopped, looking doubtfully at Lalmohan Babu and me.
    ‘They are friends, you may speak freely before them,’ Feluda said quickly.
    ‘Oh. Oh, I see,’ Mr Kulkarni sounded relieved. ‘Well, someone rang Bombay this morning.’
    ‘Mallik?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘What did he say?’
    Mr Kulkarni took out a piece of paper from his pocket and read from it: ‘The daughter’s fine. Leaving today.’
    ‘Today? Did he tell you anything about leaving