The Kolkata Conundrum

A Visitor in the Night

Two days had passed since Inspector Purushottam's visit, and though we'd all returned to our routines, the events of the Sundarbans lingered in the back of my mind. Feluda, however, seemed unusually quiet, spending long hours alone in his study with the ruby, the locket, and a stack of old Bengali folklore books scattered across his desk. He barely spoke, his mind consumed by thoughts I couldn't begin to guess at.

That night, just after midnight, a soft but distinct knock echoed from the door. Feluda, immersed in his books, raised an eyebrow but didn't seem surprised.

"Topshe," he said, his tone low, "keep that notebook ready. We may have more notes to take."

I hurried to grab my notebook as Feluda opened the door. To our surprise, a tall, slender man, dressed in a long kurta and thick shawl, stood before us. His face was marked with deep lines, and his eyes were intense, holding a curious mix of desperation and purpose.

"Felu-babu," he began in a low, gravelly voice, "I believe you have something that belongs to me."

Feluda's gaze was unwavering. "And you would be...?"

The man removed his shawl, revealing a pendant with an insignia—a small, intricate lotus design that mirrored the carvings we'd seen on the Shyamal Murti. "I am Dr. Abinash Roy," he said, "and I'm here for the ruby. The locket you carry once belonged to my family."

The claim hung heavy in the air. Feluda crossed his arms, his expression neutral but his eyes sharp. "And what exactly is the significance of this locket and the Shyamal Murti, Dr. Roy? Why did Shantanu Bose die searching for it?"

Dr. Roy sighed, his fingers trembling as he held out an old, faded photograph. In it, a young woman stood, holding a locket identical to the one we now possessed. "This was my grandmother," he said quietly. "She was one of the guardians of the Shyamal Murti, as was her mother before her."

He explained that the Shyamal Murti wasn't just a statue; it was part of a tradition—an ancient lineage meant to protect a powerful knowledge, hidden within the ruby. His grandmother, according to family lore, had been part of a society dedicated to preserving Bengal's secrets through the Murti.

Feluda's eyes glinted with interest. "So Shantanu wasn't the only one seeking the Murti's knowledge?"

Dr. Roy nodded grimly. "There is another group—the Black Lotus. They've been following the Murti's trail for decades, hoping to steal its secrets and harness the ruby's supposed power."

"Power?" Jatayu, who had been watching quietly, gasped. "What kind of power are we talking about?"

Dr. Roy hesitated. "That, I don't know. But my family believed the ruby held a map—a guide to a hidden place in Bengal where deeper secrets lie."

The revelation sent a chill down my spine. All this time, the ruby hadn't just been a beautiful gem; it was a key, a symbol of something much larger. I glanced at Feluda, whose gaze had turned thoughtful.

"If this Black Lotus is after the ruby, Dr. Roy," he said, choosing his words carefully, "why haven't they tried to find you?"

A rueful smile crossed Dr. Roy's face. "They have." He pulled his sleeve back to reveal scars along his forearm. "They've followed me across the country, and Shantanu too—until they caught up with him."

Feluda's expression hardened. "Did Shantanu have any last instructions for you, Dr. Roy?"

The man's voice dropped to a near-whisper. "He left a message before his final trip to the Sundarbans. 'Follow the light,' he said, 'and trust only those with the courage to embrace the shadow.'"

A heavy silence filled the room as Feluda considered this. "The courage to embrace the shadow..." he muttered, his mind clearly working through the riddle. "And Shantanu believed you were one of those people?"

Dr. Roy nodded. "That's why I'm here, Felu-babu. I need your help. I can't face them alone, not with the Black Lotus so close."

Feluda looked at each of us in turn. "It seems, then, that our work isn't finished. Dr. Roy, we'll do what we can to keep the ruby safe. But if the Black Lotus is as dangerous as you say, this may be more challenging than we thought."

The man's face softened, a glimmer of relief in his eyes. "Thank you, Felu-babu. I know my grandmother's memory is safe in your hands."

As he left, Feluda turned to me, eyes burning with purpose. "Topshe, we'll need to start preparing. If the Black Lotus is indeed on our trail, we must anticipate their next move."

I nodded, the weight of the night's revelations pressing on my shoulders. We'd uncovered much about the Shyamal Murti, but somehow, it felt like we'd barely scratched the surface. And as the shadows of Kolkata stretched over the city, I couldn't shake the feeling that, in chasing this mystery, we'd only drawn closer to the very heart of darkness itself.