A Midnight Transaction
By Lokanath Mishra
The rhythmic clack-clack of the train against the iron rails was usually enough to lull Arthur Pendelton into a comfortable trance. As a senior clerk at a modest accounting firm in London, Arthur was a man who appreciated steady rhythms, predictable outcomes, and quiet afternoons. He sat in his worn velvet seat, coat buttoned neatly, staring out the window into the passing dusk.
Sitting directly across from him was Julian Vance. Julian was a high-powered trial lawyer whose suit cost more than Arthur’s monthly rent. Julian’s mind was a restless engine, fueled by victory, cross-examinations, and a deep-seated conviction that he was almost always the smartest person in any given room. Having exhausted his briefcase of legal briefs, Julian found himself thoroughly bored. He eyed Arthur—a quiet man with dusty shoes and ink-stained cuffs—and smelled an easy amusement.
“I have a little game for you,” Julian said, leaning forward with an engaging, persuasive smile refined in courtroom arguments. “I’ll ask you a question. If you don’t know the answer, you give me €5. Then you ask me another question. If I don’t know the answer, I’ll give you €50. What do you think?”
Arthur blinked, pulling his gaze away from the darkening countryside. He looked at the lawyer, measured the proposition in his quiet, methodical clerk’s way, and nodded softly. “Fair enough.”
Julian smiled, settling back into his seat. “Excellent. I’ll go first: What is the exact distance between the Earth and the Moon?”
Without saying a word, Arthur reached into his coat, pulled out a worn leather coin purse, fished out a €5 note, and handed it across the table to Julian.
Julian took the bill, his smile widening with smug satisfaction. “Your turn.”
Arthur thought for a quiet moment, adjusting his glasses. “What animal climbs a mountain with three legs and comes back down with four legs?”
Julian opened his mouth to answer immediately, but the word stalled in his throat. His brow furrowed. He racked his brains, mentally scanning volumes of natural history, obscure folklore, lateral-thinking puzzles, and legal precedent. He pulled out his notebook, scribbled diagrams, and searched every logical corner of his mind. Nothing fit. The silence stretched for forty minutes, punctuated only by the heavy chug of the train engine.
Finally, his pride bruised and his impatience winning out, Julian sighed heavily. He opened his leather wallet, pulled out a pristine €50 notes, and slapped the €50 onto the small table between them. “I don’t know.”
Arthur accepted the money with a faint, satisfied smile, neatly tucked the notes into his wallet, and rested his head against the glass window to take a nap.
Julian sat in agonized silence for ten minutes. His analytical mind refused to let it go; the unsolved riddle buzzed in his head like a trapped fly. Driven by sheer curiosity, he leaned forward and tapped the clerk on the knee, waking him.
“All right, I give up,” Julian insisted, desperate for the answer. “So, what is the animal?”
Without saying a word, Arthur reached back into his pocket, took out a €5 note, handed it to the lawyer, and went back to sleep peacefully.