The Cosmic Clues (19 page)

“First, I think it was Jayesh's idea of fun. Second, he wanted to have written proof that the fake Anand really wanted to get rid of his brother. Jayesh wanted to return as Anand from jail, remember? Just as he did his best to re-create his original identity with Maya and Reema, he left proof with us so that we could vouch for the fact that he indeed had ulterior motives! Then as per his plan, Jayesh would arrive on the doorstep as the real Anand Gandhi and claim that his criminal brother either ran away or committed suicide!”

“Whew! What a fantastic idea! How very clever!” Jatin whistled.

“And also cruel, wreaking havoc with the lives of so many people . . . Jatin, I'm exhausted. Do you think you can handle Swapnil and Reema?”

“Sure, Boss, but what do I have to do?”

“Reema is the daughter of the man Jayesh murdered years ago. I think she's been acting as a Secretary here with some poetic notion of avenging her father's death. She's young and immature and I'm certain Swapnil will take good care of her. Do you think you can manage?”

“Sure, Boss! I'll be right back!” Jatin grinned, thrilled beyond words at this added responsibility.

Sub-Inspector Inamdar came forward with a warm smile on his face. “I'm speechless—truly, I don't know what to say!”

“Then don't say anything at all. Remember, we agreed on this decision together,” she reminded him.

‘Yes, but it was your idea to give those two a second chance, not mine,” he told her gently.

“They deserved it. Fate has played some cruel tricks on them; it was only fair to back off now. But let's forget it! This case is closed. We all need a good night's sleep, it's well after midnight!” Sonia yawned.

“I'll ask a Constable to drive you back to town,” Inamdar offered, as the phone shrilled into attention. Inamdar lifted the receiver. “It's for you,” he told Sonia.

Surprised, she took the receiver. Inspector Divekar again?

“Hello, Sonia, I've been worried. Where in heavens are you?” The familiar deep drawl echoed into her ears.

“Mohnish!” she exclaimed. “You've been worried about
me
?”

“Of course!” he retorted, and in a flash her earlier anger and her loneliness were a distant memory.

She listened to him for a few minutes and then hung up. Her fatigue, too, had vanished. She picked up her handbag, and with a light spring to her feet, headed out into the night.

The September sun was on the horizon, painting the sky in golden-pink shades. There was still plenty of time for the famous Panchgani sunset, but already the glow in the sky was a treat to watch. Sonia's eyes feasted on the golden ball as it tilted over the tableland—the second largest plateau in Asia. Every single time she visited this hill station, she marveled. Panchgani was an idyllic hilly town on the crest of the Sahyadri mountain range, a favorite choice of tourists and also the perfect location for film shootings.

Three large, red-and-blue-striped garden umbrellas were set up on one side. Sonia, along with Jatin, relaxed under one of these, watching sixty people bustle around them. A spot boy approached and served them hot
chai
in two disposable thermacol cups. Sonia smiled at the shy kid.

“Silence, please!” a voice boomed on the handheld speaker-cone. Chirag Mehta, the Producer and Director of the film titled
Ek Paheli
(“The Puzzle”), issued crisp orders to his team, and everyone immediately fell into position. The Cameraman on top of the crane, the Light Men with the huge HMI lights, the Makeup Men and junior artists hovering on the sidelines—all ready for action.

“Roll camera!” Chirag bellowed.

The Clapper Boy slipped in front of the camera, clapped the board, and said,
“Ek Paheli,
sequence 70, scene 3, take 1.”

“Music! Action!” Chirag thundered.

Sonia watched in admiration as Nimisha, the famous actress and her friend, danced with perfect tempo and grace to the music, before a huge, ornate set of a temple. The camera whirred. The Light Men trained the huge reflectors and the lights on the beautiful actress. There was no doubt, Nimisha was a star—in the real sense of the word. Attired in a sequined, traditional blue and gold Bharat Natyam dance sari, her tall willowy body showed off perfect curves. Her personality emanated magic, poise, and vitality. In front of the camera, she positively glowed like a star.

The group on the sidelines watched in rapt silence, appreciation on their faces. Except one face. Jay—the hero of the film—was positioned at the foot of the crane and the expression on his face startled Sonia. He was staring at Nimisha, a long fixed gaze filled with agony and misery. Whatever could cause such intense emotion in the man, Sonia wondered. Was he in love with Nimisha?

“Cut! Perfect!” Chirag boomed, pleased.

Jatin expelled a slow whistle of approval. “Wow! She's good, isn't she?” he whispered.

Sonia agreed. “The best. What perfect rhythm, and she's supple, like a cloth in hand.”

The music was switched off and the shot was okayed. Immediately a flurry of activity commenced, as trolley tracks began to be laid for the next shot. Lights changed position around the set of the temple, and the entire crew, including Chirag and the twelve Light Men, swung into action. The Makeup Man ran to Nimisha to touch up her makeup. The actress patiently allowed her face to be dabbed and puffed, then, smiling, walked towards Sonia and flopped down on the empty chair beside her.

“How do you like it?” she asked in a cultured, husky voice.

“A wonderful experience. I'm so glad I came,” Sonia told her.

The Spot Boy offered Nimisha a cup of
chai,
which she accepted gratefully.

“I told you you'd enjoy the change. Sonia, we've known each other since school days and I wanted you to see what I actually did. I'm so glad you accepted my invitation, even if it's on the last day of the shoot. Just one more small sequence and we shall be done for this schedule. Then we can attend the small party at the cottage.”

“And after the party Jatin and I must leave,” Sonia reminded her.

“Are you sure you won't stay for the night?”

“No, I have work tomorrow. And it's only a three-hour drive to Pune.”

“Okay, I should be consoled with the fact that at least you could come today.” Nimisha flashed her famous million-rupee smile, which had lodged itself into the hearts of the Indian public.

“I had to. I thought it was time to brush shoulders with the great Nimisha Raikar,” Sonia teased, then added warmly, “You've come a long way, haven't you?”

“You mean from the time in school when I'd been so desperate to act that I was on the verge of committing suicide?” Nimisha asked. “I remember how sick I was of school and how I longed to act, but had no permission from home. If it hadn't been for you, I would have committed suicide, Sonia.”

“No, you wouldn't have. It was just that—desperation and frustration. But you were strong and managed to overcome that silly urge of taking your own life. And look at you now! Successful, sought-after, highly paid, with an adoring fan-following!”

“You're right. It was tough. It was really tough, reaching this stage, without compromising my principles.” Nimisha rested against her chair, a reflective expression on her beautiful face. Her eyes followed the film crew hastening to organize the next part of the dance sequence.

“Look at those people. Chirag—the Director, Jay—my co-star, K.Kusum—my Choreographer and the woman who in a way is responsible for my rise to success. If she hadn't choreographed dances which showcased my dancing skills, I would still be a starlet. Kusum is getting on in years now. You know, Sonia, each one of those people and the rest of the crowd out there—each one of them—has a secret, a skeleton in the cupboard. Jay once made me a scandalous proposition, which shocked me. Now we pretend as if nothing ever passed between us and we are cordial to each other. As for Kusum, each dance step of hers has a history . . . and I think this will be my last dance with her. Believe it or not, the world of films is a quagmire. Before you realize it, you're sucked into the swamp of lies and deceit, gilded with the gloss of glamour and creativity. Too late, you realize that you're trapped. If I didn't love the work, I don't know how I could've handled this feeling of being trapped.”

Sonia's concerned gaze rested on Nimisha for a moment. Did she seem depressed? No, merely resigned. Then, as Nimisha continued talking, Sonia's gaze moved to the others. The Director, with a Panama hat on his head, was discussing something with the handsome Jay—heartthrob of the masses. K.Kusum listened on, offering suggestions. The Choreographer was a tall, elegant lady, past her prime but carrying herself with immense dignity.

An old man offering baskets of strawberries and raspberries approached Kusum, accompanied by a young boy. She tasted the fruits and seemed to like them. Sonia watched in amusement as the Choreographer spoke in a raised voice to the man, who was apparently a little deaf.

“Panchgani is famous for its berries!” Nimisha remarked unnecessarily. Then she leaned suddenly toward Sonia and whispered, “I have some real damaging proof. It can ruin someone.”

Sonia blinked. Immediately Nimisha straightened and resumed in a normal tone. “If you needed story material for a film, I can promise you that each one of these people can boast a background, far more colourful and fascinating than fiction! But then, I think you can deduce that from their horoscopes, can't you?” the movie star asked. Interest glittered in her light eyes.

Sonia shrugged. “I probably could tell.”

“Good. I specifically asked Chirag, Jay, and Kusum to bring their horoscopes on location. I hope you haven't forgotten your promise of reading our horoscopes?”

Sonia particularly disliked a general reading of horoscopes. However, she didn't want to hurt her friend.

“No, I haven't. But just a quick run-through, okay?” she conceded.

“Oh, good! After this sequence, it will be pack-up time and the whole film unit will leave for Mumbai. Just a few of us are staying here for the night, because the hotel Manager insisted on inviting us for a party he was throwing this evening. You and Jatin will of course join us and then we can have a small horoscope-reading session.”

The next shot was ready and Nimisha excused herself. Sonia settled against her chair once more, to be entertained by the high-power activity of the film scene. Idly her eye roved from the scene of action to the sidelines. A few Vendors and tourists were hanging about, giggling and enjoying the trials and errors of the rehearsals. A huge merry-go-round swung smoothly at the far end of the plateau. Tourists, with cameras, flooded the stalls and enjoyed jaunts round the tableland, in the horse-driven colourful six-seater carts. Narrow steps, etched into the cliff, curved down the side of the land, to a natural cave restaurant. Sonia wished she had the time to soak in the rustic ambience of the cave, which also had a quaint shop. She made a mental note that she had to, at least, buy a basket of strawberries and some jam, squash, and jellies for her parents. Later, when the shoot was over, she'd stroll round the pretty town and do some shopping.

The rehearsals were taking longer than expected, but Jatin watched with full concentration. Sonia picked up the newspaper she had bought that morning, on the way to Panchgani, but which she hadn't had a chance to read. Her eyes flicked over the headlines, her feet tapping absently along with the music on the Nagra. At a particular write-up she paused, her pulse quickening. The Owl! It was reported that he was last traced to Panchgani! How very interesting, she thought. He had moved from Mumbai to Panchgani and the police were once again on his trail. But would they be able to catch him? And if they didn't, what would be his next destination? Pune? Sonia couldn't help but experience a rather childish thrill at the thought.

The shot was ready for the final take, so Sonia folded the newspaper and concentrated on Nimisha.

The sun was setting over the horizon in blazing colours as the film unit packed up. The huge lights, their stands, and long cables with the extension boards were loaded into a van by some. Others were pushing boxes of hired set property into another van. Earlier, the set of the Temple had been dismantled in such record time that Jatin had gaped in amazement. As one by one, the Generator Van, the buses, and cars crawled out of the town, he sighed. It had been a great experience, being in close quarters with a real film crew and trying to understand firsthand the technique of film production. If his career as a detective didn't work, he could easily take to filmmaking!

“The film unit has left,” he reported to his boss unnecessarily.

Sonia nodded.

“What about us? When do we leave?”

“Late evening. I'm going to have a brief horoscope-reading session with Nimisha and her friends, then we're free to return to Pune, you and I.”

“Boss, I thoroughly enjoyed myself today. Thank you!”

“Thank Nimisha, not me.”

“Do you really mean that? Wow, I'd love to talk to her and take her autograph!” Jatin exclaimed, starry-eyed.

Sonia laughed. “Go ahead, before she returns to her cottage. She's right there beside her car! In the meanwhile, I'm going to the market. Catch me there after you're done with the acknowledgements!”

The market was a small, quaint place consisting of a long, curving street. Shops selling leather goods, footwear, handwoven multi-coloured mattresses, and fruit products lined either side of the street. The whole market road had a charming, magical feel to it. Sonia and Jatin strolled along, popping roasted gram into their mouths and checking out the items on display. Jatin had bought a walking stick with a carved dog head and Sonia's shopping bag was full with mixed fruit and raspberry jam and two baskets of strawberries.

She paused at a shop selling handwoven cotton carpets. The striped carpets were piled high, one on top of the other, inside and outside the shop. Sonia ran her hand over the carpets and picked out the jazziest one.

“I hope that's not for the office,” Jatin commented.

“Actually, it is,” Sonia confirmed.

“But, Boss, you can't! It's too . . . too
feminine
!” Jatin protested.

Sonia raised an eyebrow. “And what's wrong with it being ‘too feminine'?”

Jatin hesitated. “Think about the image of the office! It's Stellar Investigations—a detective agency—”

“Run by a woman—a very feminine and stylish woman, I hope,” Sonia completed, and her tone brooked no argument.

Jatin shrugged. “Don't say I didn't warn you!”

Sonia turned back to the carpet, shaking her head in mild annoyance. The Vendor, a strapping young fellow in a thick multi-coloured shirt which appeared to be stripped off the mattresses he sold, smiled encouragingly at her.

“How much for it?” Sonia asked him in Hindi.