westland ltd
THE MAGICIAN WHO LOST HIS WALLET
Gautam Acharya is a scientist living in Mumbai. He has always been fascinated by puzzles of all kinds, but this is his first attempt to create one that does not involve Greek symbols.
THE MAGICIAN
WHO LOST HIS WALLET
Gautam Acharya
westland ltd
61, Silverline Building, Alapakkam Main Road, Maduravoyal, Chennai 600 095
No. 38/10 (New No.5), Raghava Nagar, New Timber Yard Layout, Bangalore 560 026
93, 1st Floor, Sham Lal Road, Daryaganj, New Delhi 110 002
First published in India by westland ltd, 2014
First e-book edition: 2014
Copyright Gautam Acharya 2014
All rights reserved
ISBN: 9789384030612
Typeset in Bembo Roman by SRYA, New Delhi
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, circulated, and no reproduction in any form, in whole or in part (except for brief quotations in critical articles or reviews) may be made without written permission of the publishers.
The old man was playing his flute for the last time in his life. He had picked up the instrument a few minutes ago, after realizing that there was no escape route from where he was stranded. The stone structure had collapsed in front of him, completely blocking one end of the narrow mountain path. With plunging vertical drops on either side, and a deep abyss behind, the old man had no place to go. But his wrinkled vulture-like face gave no indication that he was waiting for his own death. He seemed oblivious to the two bodies lying near his feet. He continued playing his flute in this surreal setting, his gaze fixed on the crystal chalice that had been his obsession throughout his adult life.
As hed expected, death struck him a few moments later. It came in the form of a huge rock, which landed on the narrow path after being dislodged from its original position. It started rolling towards him, gathering enormous momentum on its way. The old man uttered a deafening scream when it hit him with a crushing force, and he was dead even before the flute in his hand hit the ground. The rock continued to roll on, dragging his lifeless body along with it, and plunged into the abyss. The old mans last scream echoed in the valley for a few more seconds.
Debu Haldar, who was watching the scene from the edge of his seat, breathed a sigh of relief. In front of him, on the screen, an earthquake was shaking the entire mountain. The team of adventurers had emerged from the cave and managed to escape to safety a few minutes ago; the old man was the only one left. Now it was clear that the entrance to the secret cave would collapse, and the treasures of the Knights Templar would be sealed from the world forever. More importantly, that would end the movie, and Debu would not have to make his brother-in-law Rana wait outside the multiplex.
Anyone who did not know Debu very well would have been surprised to see him in this multiplex. The other people watching the movie were mostly noisy teenagers or young couples. Debu was one of the very few in the hall who were in their forties, and certainly the only one in that age group who was watching it alone. With his thinning hair, glasses, and the hint of a pot belly, he did not fit in with the crowd. However, contrary to what most people would have thought, he had enjoyed the movie immensely.
Watching action movies had always been Debus favourite hobby, but it had not been part of his plan to watch a film today when he left his hotel. He had come to Siliguri three days ago to attend the wedding of his neighbours daughter. His group included his wife, his brother-in-law, and two people from his apartment building in Kolkata. In the evening, he and his brother-in-law had decided to visit the city centre, and he had spotted the poster of the latest Hollywood release, The Treasures of Knights Templar . Rana was not interested in the movie, so they had decided to meet at the entrance of the multiplex after three-and-a-half hours.
When Debu stepped outside the hall it was exactly nine oclock. He realized that he still had some time left before the scheduled meeting with Rana, and he toyed with the idea of having a light snack. The dining room in his hotel would be closed by the time they got back, and he did not like the idea of heading out again. A brief search of the multiplex premises revealed two restaurants. The first, a pizza joint on the second floor, was completely packed. There was a fairly long queue just to place orders. Debu returned to the first floor and went to the other restaurant, a snack bar near the escalator. Luckily, it was much less crowded. A middle-aged man wearing a white uniform and a bored expression stood behind the counter. The glass showcase in front of him did not offer too many choices. Apart from popcorn and soft drinks, it contained only sandwiches, samosas and burgers. The food looked stale and unappetizing.
Debu hesitated for a minute, but eventually decided to order a chicken sandwich and a cola. When he looked around for a place to sit, he saw four chairs near the counter, all of them occupied, one by a well-dressed young man with a ponytail, sitting with his back towards him and talking to someone on his cell phone, and the others by two young girls and a teenage boy with earphones attached to his ears. The girls were talking to each other and giggling continuously. The boy sat there with an intense look on his face, occasionally sipping the cold drink in his hand. Debu patiently waited for one of them to get up.
He did not have to wait too long. The young man with the ponytail got up from his seat, picked up his backpack andDebu was surprised to seewhat looked like a walking stick. As the young man walked towards the exit, busy pressing the buttons of his mobile phone at the same time, Debu realized that he seemed to have a serious problem with his right leg.
Debu was about to occupy the empty seat when something fell from the young mans back pocket. The ponytailed man did not notice it, but Debu caught the movement from the corner of his eyes. He went up to examine it, and found a large leather wallet lying on the floor. He picked it up quickly and looked around. He spotted the young man near a toilet close to the snack bar, but before he could call out, the young man pushed open the toilet door and went inside.
Debu decided to wait where he was. He shifted his chair slightly so he could keep an eye on the toilet door as he dug into his sandwich. It took him about five minutes to finish up, and the young man was yet to emerge from the restroom. He stood up, threw his empty plate in a trash can, and went inside the toilet.
The room was not very big. There were two washbasins on the left, about ten urinals lined up against either wall, and at the far end there were three lavatory stalls in a row. A young man with short hair and cheap clothes was washing his hands in a sink and whistling loudly at the same time. A teenager using a urinal was the only other occupant. The man Debu was looking for was nowhere to be seen.
Debu headed to the three lavatory stalls. There was a sign pasted on the door of the middle stall announcing that it was out of order, and the door on the right stood wide open. The stall on the left was occupied, though, and Debu hesitated for a moment. He was undecided whether to knock on the door, or wait outside. From the corner of his eyes he saw the other occupants going out, leaving him and the man inside the only ones in the room. He checked his watch and realized that Rana would be coming for him soon.
