Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter
Twenty-One
Apparently, two of the crew members who were on set the night of the murder were close friends, having worked on many of the same movies over the years, and had agreed to meet Naina and Tejas at a Sunstag Café near to where their next project, another Jagannath production, was filming.
“I’m finally feeling optimistic about this case,” Naina said to Tejas as she paid the auto rickshaw driver, her mood light for the first time in days. “Especially with the forensic report hinting that the killer was likely stronger than Pai, which obviously points to a man.”
“Rohith Pai was five foot eight and most definitely not a gym freak,” Tejas pointed out as he exhaled, “but everyone knows Preethi works out a lot. The prosecution will push that angle no matter what.” He led the way inside the café and upstairs, greeting the cheerful baristas with a polite smile when they yelled “Welcome to Sunstag!”
Malik and Vaishnavi, the two crew members, were already seated upstairs.
This side of town was chock-full of startup founders, venture capitalist firms, and tech bros, so Sunstag had built a conference room on the second floor that they rented out.
Apparently, one of Sunstag’s former baristas now worked in the film industry, so Malik had pulled some strings and booked the conference room for a half hour at a cheaper rate on AKC’s behalf.
“Hi,” Tejas said, shaking hands with each of them one after the other. “Thank you for speaking with us.”
“No problem,” Malik said, smiling politely.
He was an average-looking guy, not older than twenty-two or twenty-three.
He wore a simple T-shirt and denim shorts, though his nails were painted silver, and his short hair was streaked gold, matching his gold eyeliner; it reminded Naina of a character from The Hunger Games.
Vaishnavi, on the other hand, was a short, meek-looking woman, probably in her early thirties. Her eyes were big and round, and she kept sneaking looks at the door like she was afraid someone would barge in.
Once they were all seated facing each other with four cups of steaming hot coffee on the table, Naina spoke, one finger on her iPad Notes app. “So, Malik, you were the makeup artist on set the night of Rohith Pai’s murder?”
Malik and Vaishnavi both flinched at the word murder.
Slowly, Malik nodded. “Yes, I handled hair and makeup for Preethi ma’am and Gopal sir.
They were the only actors on the call sheet those two days.
” His face darkened, and he drank a bit of his Americano.
“Of course, the second day never happened.”
“And, Vaishnavi.” Naina turned to the woman, who was crouched in her seat. “You’ve been Jagannath’s personal assistant for how long now?”
“Twelve years. His team hired me straight out of college.”
“And do you like working with him?” Tejas prodded.
“He’s a good boss,” Vaishnavi said, smiling at last. “He takes care of the people in his life. For example, Pai sir wanted me to share a trailer with two other male crew members because of limited space, but Jagannath sir put his foot down and insisted I get my own trailer. We didn’t have any other women on set that day except for Preethi, Bina ma’am, and me. ”
“Good for Vaishnavi, honestly,” Malik said, snickering. “But she left my yapper ass alone with the camera crew, and God, they were a snoozefest. They turned in for the night right away.”
Vaishnavi rolled her eyes at him. “Like you would have wanted to yap all night. Our shoot started at five a.m., and I know you like your beauty sleep.”
“Beauty sleep versus gossip?” Malik lifted his palms as though weighing the options. “Gossip, always! Since she’s a PA, Vaish has piping-hot tea about everyone in the industry,” he said, nodding approvingly.
Vaishnavi’s face paled. “I don’t gossip about Jagannath sir,” she said, hurriedly sipping her latte. “I’m very loyal to him. Not that there’s ever any gossip about him anyway.”
“Right,” Naina said, checking her wristwatch. They only had the conference room for another twenty minutes, after which the crew had to return to their set. She took a big gulp of her coffee and asked, “So, the night of the murd—”
Under the table, Tejas put a warm hand on Naina’s knee, squeezing once as if to say, Hold on, let me try something. “Vaishnavi, were you well acquainted with the Krishnans also?”
Naina bit her lip. Tejas was trying out his strategy of making the witnesses comfortable before asking them the right questions. Well, fair enough. He was a smart lawyer, and now her friend…of sorts.
Vaishnavi answered promptly. “Yes, Jagannath sir has worked with them a handful of times over the years. They’re good people. I especially like Gopal sir—he’s a remarkable man.”
“Huh.” Tejas cocked his head, finally removing his hand from Naina’s knee. “Why do you say that?”
Vaishnavi smiled as she set her coffee down. “He cares about everyone in the industry. Whether it’s a cameraperson, PA, actor—he’s there for us all. One time on set, I was struggling through period cramps, and he had someone send over painkillers.”
“Definitely a good guy,” Malik agreed.
“He’s respectful of all women,” Vaishnavi went on, “which is why he was so cautious with Preethi while filming the action sequence that day.”
“Really?” Naina asked. “How so?”
Malik let out a sarcastic laugh. “Cautious? More like scared. The scene was supposed to be a sexually charged moment where the warrior princess teaches the novice soldier how to shoot a bow and arrow correctly, and they didn’t get a good take for over an hour because Gopal sir refused to get too close to Preethi. ”
“Can you blame him for that?” Vaishnavi said defensively, sneering at Malik. “I’m sure he just didn’t want Preethi accusing him like she did with Rohith sir.”
“Whatever.” Malik finished the last of his coffee, tutting.
“If the movie had gone on, the editing team would have had to cut a ton of footage of Rohith sir and Pai sir’s shouting match over one teensy little scene.
The romance subplot was in the script, for crying out loud!
Why take on the role if you don’t want to touch the lead actress? ”
Naina and Tejas exchanged glances. Finally, someone had confirmed the maintenance worker’s testimony. Gopal Krishnan was looking more and more suspicious with every passing day, especially since he hadn’t mentioned any of this to them.
“Shall we talk about the night of the crime?” When they nodded, Tejas shifted in his seat toward Naina, perhaps signaling to her that he was done with his subtle angle of questioning.
Naina looked at the list of questions on her iPad. “Where were you both between eleven-thirty and one a.m. that night?”
“In my trailer with the camera crew, asleep,” Malik answered promptly. “I don’t think any of us woke up until we heard sirens and saw the row of police vans parked up ahead.”
“Same,” Vaishnavi chimed in.
“Are either of you deep sleepers?”
“I sleep like a baby,” Malik said, finishing his coffee. “The perks of working your ass off all day, I suppose.”
Vaishnavi thought for a second. “I’d say it depends. I slept well that night because the hills are peaceful and quiet, unlike the city with its traffic and all the honking of cars.”
Naina asked them a few more routine questions about whether they noticed anything weird or off between Preethi and Rohith Pai that night, or if they thought someone else could have done it, but the crew members didn’t have anything to say in defense of Preethi.
Rather, it sounded like they were happy about the arrest. Them and every other person in Bangalore, Naina thought glumly.
As they said their goodbyes and got up to leave, Naina tucked her iPad back into her work bag and asked one final question. “Vaishnavi, have you ever known Jagannath to oversleep or not answer a wakeup call?”
Hopefully, her answer would help them figure out if Jagannath was a deep sleeper. Naina couldn’t directly ask Vaishnavi such a personal question about her boss.
Vaishnavi hesitated by the half-open sliding door of the conference room. She thought for a moment, then said, “I don’t think so? Some days, he needs me to call him to make sure he’s awake, but he’s usually up early in time for work. Why do you ask?”
Naina shrugged, plastering a smile on her face. “Just curious.”
“I have a question too,” Tejas added, closing the door so the crowd outside wouldn’t hear. “Did Preethi not have a PA?”
Vaishnavi’s mouth curled up mockingly. “No, I don’t think she was enough of a star for that.”
Malik snorted, then clapped a hand to his mouth. “Sorry,” he mumbled, snickering, “but it’s true. She’s a nobody, and I don’t understand why Rohith sir chose to cast her. That’s what led to his death in the end, isn’t it? What a mistake.” He shuddered, then gave them a polite smile and headed out.
Naina and Tejas waited for them to leave before closing the door again. They had five minutes to debrief until their time was up. Tejas sat on the long conference table, rubbing the back of his head. “Pretty eye-opening, huh?”
“Yeah.” She frowned, then added, “That was smart of you, asking them simpler, unrelated questions to ease them into talking about the murder. I usually just dive right into the facts of the case.”
Tejas’s brows shot up. “Did you just compliment me, Naina Stark?”
“It’s Naina Shetty,” she corrected him, but her lips twitched with a smile. She shimmied onto the table beside him, crossing one leg over the other. “And I’m not one to hold back on the niceness if someone deserves it.”
“What else do I deserve, then?” he said, wetting his lips, his eyes smoldering.
Naina pulled on the collar of her shirt as a hot red flush crept up her neck. “Let’s head back to the office. It’s already five p.m.,” she got out, and slid off the table.
“Sure.” He grinned cockily, like he knew the frustrating effect he had on her. Ugh. “Although I could do with more coffee.” He slid the door open and added, “Americano, right? I’ll buy.”
She fidgeted with her hands. Another coffee sounded tempting, but she hesitated. Tejas wasn’t just her colleague now, he was a…friendly colleague, and friendly colleagues got coffee together all the time. It didn’t mean anything more.
“Yeah, why not?” she said. “I’ll grab us a table.”
Tejas smiled and headed to the counter, his footsteps thumping down the stairs.
Naina found a table in the corner of the slowly emptying café and uploaded her meeting notes onto their Preethi Acharya Google Doc.
Trial started in a week, and although they now had a suspect in mind, the evidence against Gopal was circumstantial at best and wouldn’t help their defense much. There was a lot more work to be done.
“Hey.” Tejas set two mugs of coffee on the table and sat down. Naina peered at his drink over her laptop when she smelled the aroma in the air. “You got a pumpkin spice latte?” she said, pulling a face.
“It’s October, isn’t it?” He laughed in good humor. “I usually order hazelnut lattes, but”—his gaze raked over her face—“I was in the mood for something special today.”
She looked away, hating the blush that warmed her cheeks. “Um, so maybe we could review the prosecution’s witness list when we get back to the office?” she suggested. “I don’t think we should discuss the case in public now that we have more concrete information.”
Tejas nodded, and once she had put away her laptop, he sipped his latte and asked, his voice softer, “How are you doing, Naina?”
“I think we can win this,” she said determinedly. “If we can build a strong enough case against Gopal, and the judge agrees with our analysis of the forensic report—”
“I meant in general,” he said, his lips twitching with a smile. “How have you been since Goa?”
Naina swallowed a gulp of her coffee; it burned her mouth. “Like I said earlier, we don’t need to revisit our past.”
“Fair enough,” he replied, still smiling. “So tell me about your present. Is your father doing okay? Do you still enjoy karaoke?”
“Appa’s fine, and we’re as close as ever,” she said, smiling. “Yes, I do karaoke at Madeira almost every week, and I like to think I’m their best singer.”
Tejas raised his mug as though toasting her. “I’m sure. And are you…happy?”
Naina blinked. Happy? She was about to come up with some sort of joke, tell him he was talking like a therapist, but those words died in the back of her throat.
It didn’t make sense, but for some strange reason, she wanted to answer his question.
Maybe because no one had asked her if she was happy in a long, long time.
If ever.
She blew air over the top of her Americano, making her glasses fog up. “I don’t know what happiness even means.”
He didn’t speak for a moment; he simply stared at her, a crease between his eyebrows, like he was trying and failing to decode her. Then he said, “Sometimes, happiness is a place. A series of moments. A person.”
“A person?”
“Naina, you were happiness personified in Goa.” Tejas’s gaze fell to his coffee as his Adam’s apple bobbed. “I don’t see that in you anymore. Why?”
“I…that was a vacation. This is real life.”
“I was so lost in life after Goa,” Tejas admitted, his fingers circling the rim of his mug. “I thought I’d never be happy again. I’m not saying it was your fault,” he added hastily. “I’m just saying what I felt.”
A soft gasp left Naina’s mouth when he looked up at her with shining eyes.
She reached forward to squeeze his hand before she realized what she was doing.
Despite the sparks shooting up her arm, despite her brain telling her to pull away, she held on, a desperate need in her to comfort him.
“You will be happy again, Tejas,” she said. “God knows you deserve it.”
“Thank you.” A small smile appeared on his face again, and he pressed her fingers to his lips, his breath hot. “You do too.”