Shehnaaz was immediately wide awake. She jumped out of bed, humming cheerfully to herself, and gave Sidharth a quick "I'll see you later" before hanging up.
She rushed to her wardrobe and rummaged through it, before settling on a women's suit made of light gray merino wool. She had chosen a trouser suit instead of a skirt suit as it was already evening and chilly outside. At the door, she put on a cashmere coat before going out.
She did not know where Sidharth was, but that did not prove to be a problem: as soon as she walked out of his residence, she saw that Sidharth had already sent one of his subordinates to wait by the door and escort her to
him.
Deepak was also waiting for her. As soon as he saw her, he immediately played the video recording of the interrogation. He shook his head and said, "Look at this! She evaded all the important questions. And she kept blocking me with one legal provision after another. Goddammit! I wish I'd studied law in college instead!"
Shehnaaz gave a snort. She fast-forwarded through the video. "Interesting, very interesting. I'll make her sorry for
messing with you, Brother Deepak, just you wait and see!"
"She's inside, knock yourself," said Deepak, pointing towards the window. "Man, she was so snooty I felt like punching her in the face!"
"You mean she desperately needs a b*tch slap." Shehnaaz smiled as she shut Deepak's laptop. "Can I take your laptop with me?"
"Sure, go ahead." Deepak looked at Sidharth. "Any other instructions, sir?"
Sidharth stood before the window, his hands clasped behind his back. He kept his gaze upon Rashmi as he said to Shehnaaz: "Sana, once you're done with Little Deepak's questions, you're free to ask whatever you want. Ask her about her relationship with Kartik, for example."
"Huh?" Shehnaaz frowned as she hugged the laptop to her chest. "Why do I have to ask about them? I'm not interested in any of that, like, at all..."
Sidharth's lips curved into a faint smile. His eyes were as dark and as magnetic as a black hole; Shehnaaz felt herself being drawn towards them. "...Be a good girl and listen to me."
His words were like a magic spell. Shehnaaz immediately
nodded. "Okay, I'll do it..." Fine, I'll go with whatever you say, Sidharth, you handsome stud ╮(╯▽╰)╭.
...
Rashmi had just lowered her head to take a sip of water when the door to the interrogation room opened before her.
She smiled and looked up. She was by no means a tall woman, but her expression seemed to convey a certain lofty haughtiness.
However, she had not expected to see Shehnaaz enter the room, cheerful and smiling. The smile on Rashmi's face immediately froze in place; her sense of superiority had disappeared, replaced by profound distrust and dread.
The change of expression lasted only a few seconds, however. Rashmi quickly recovered herself, and said to Shehnaaz in a gentle, affable manner, "Sana, why are you here?"
Shehnaaz placed Deepak's laptop on the long table, and seated herself in the chair Deepak had vacated.
Her tone and attitude were entirely professional when she
said, "Please state your name, nationality, and a brief account of what you've been doing in the last 30 years."
Rashmi's eyes widened in surprise. "What's this? Are you pretending not to know who I am?"
"Quiet. You're sitting in the interrogation room of the India's Special Operations Forces HQ. This place is equivalent to the Supreme Court in the United States, I advise you to show proper respect." Shehnaaz did not even lift her head from the laptop. "Your name, nationality, and a brief account of what you've been doing in the last 30
years, please."
Shehnaaz was acting like a lawyer questioning the defendant in court.
Rashmi was momentarily tongue-tied. She stewed inwardly over Shehnaaz's attitude, before finally clenching her jaw and saying, in an unhappy monotone, "My name is Rashmi Desai and I have a US passport. I'm afraid I can't tell you what I've been doing in the last 30 years."
"Why?" Shehnaaz raised her head from behind the laptop. She asked, with a face entirely devoid of expression, "Are you hiding something? Shady things you can never tell anyone?"
"Watch what you say, young lady." Shehnaaz's words had
succeeded in stoking the coals of anger within Rashmi.
She placed her clenched fists, trembling with rage, on the table before her. "I'll sue you for defamation!"
"And I'll counter sue you for obstruction of justice!" There was a resounding smack as Shehnaaz brought a hand down upon the table. "What, do you think you should be getting preferential treatment here in the India just because you have a US passport? Why can't you cooperate?! I asked a simple question, why are you being so
difficult? I can send you to prison for life, you know, and I don't think the US government would even give a fig about you."
Rashmi had always kept her calm and composure before Shehnaaz, but now her temper threatened to get the better of her. With great effort, she pulled a lid over the anger boiling within her, and grated out, between clenched teeth: "...I'm only 24. How am I supposed to tell you what I've been doing in the last 30 years?!"
"Oh? You're only 24? Sorry, it's just that you look like you're 34. Honest mistake on my part. If you're offended, well, I apologize. You should go for beauty spas more often, and treat your skin better. Also, you should try losing weight-if you do all that, I'm sure you can at least pass for 28." Shehnaaz smiled slightly. She was only 18, and her sweet smile was full of enviable youthful radiance. She was
deliberately trying to push Rashmi to the edge by flaunting her youth at her.
Rashmi wasn't tall, but she was curvy. She was in no way fat, not in the way Shehnaaz was suggesting-perhaps a little "chubby," but even that was a stretch.
Shehnaaz knew there were two things you should never call a woman, not unless you wanted to offend her, and she had deliberately combined the two for maximum effect by suggesting Rashmi was both old and fat. She had to destroy Rashmi's oddly inflated sense of self-importance to break down the barriers around her heart and
get more information out of her.
Rashmi was trembling all over with rage. She had to gather all her strength just to keep her anger in check. The gunshot wound in her chest, which was supposed to have healed over, began to ache.
She put a hand to her chest. She had to take a few minutes to get her ragged breathing under control. When she finally spoke again, her voice was hoarse: "I'm sorry, but my gunshot wound still hurts. Please let me catch my breath."
She was subtly reminding Shehnaaz that she had saved her life.
Shehnaaz understood, and felt guilty. She waited for Rashmi's expression to ease before saying calmly: "Tell me about your personal history, from the time you started going to school."
Rashmi gave Shehnaaz a long look that seemed full of hidden meanings. She gave Shehnaaz a brief account of her educational background, beginning with her grade school and ending with her post-grad Law School.
Shehnaaz discovered that Rashmi had skipped many grades: she had graduated from college at 18, completed Law School at 21, and attained a tenured teaching position as a professor at Harvard Law School at the age of 24. She was a genius, through and through.
Shehnaaz was surprised by Rashmi's accomplishments. She had not bothered to look into her
background before this because of her dislike for Rashmi.
Shehnaaz realized she had underestimated her, and decided to give credit where credit was due.
Shehnaaz went over Deepak's questions, and Rashmi's answers to them. Shehnaaz smiled and asked: "Miss Desai, what lawsuit did you help Devika Gandhi with in the United States?"
Rashmi's mood suddenly improved. A large smile spread across her face as she said triumphantly, "I already told Mr. Rathi, but that is strictly between me and Devika. She's my client, and I'm her lawyer. The attorney-client privilege between us means I cannot tell anyone else about our private discussions."
Shehnaaz patiently waited for Rashmi to finish explaining how the attorney-client privilege worked in the US, an amused expression on her face. When Rashmi was done, Shehnaaz nodded and said: "Oh, I know all that, which is why I wasn't asking whether the two of you are
involved in shady dealings. I merely asked about the lawsuit
you helped her with. Don't underestimate me; I may not be
an expert in American law, but I know that you can look up every lawsuit brought to the US courts on their website. It's public information, available online. Surely you're not saying that disclosing information about the lawsuit counts as a violation of the attorney-client privilege? If that's what you mean, wow, lucky you, you should start suing all the US courts, I'm sure you'll be able to rake in a fortune."
Rashmi was frozen speechless after listening to Shehnaaz's words. She clenched her fists so hard, her nails tore through the skin.
"Why don't you say it?" Shehnaaz looked up from the laptop to stare at Rashmi, her large eyes suddenly squinted. The expressionless and silent Rashmi
somehow gave her a sense of deja vu: how could this be?
Shehnaaz knew she had never looked at Rashmi directly. Since the first time they had met and had that unpleasant conversation in front of the C University Law
Department's female dormitory, Shehnaaz had consciously blocked out Rashmi’s face entirely. Even Rashmi's image in her mind had always been blurry, and it wasn't because she didn't remember, but because she didn't want to remember her face. Shehnaaz had never developed
such resentment for anyone before.
While Rashmi was still silent, she reflected on her strange feelings and impression of the woman. Coughing lightly, Shehnaaz decided to treat Rashmi normally. Too much neglection or emphasis on Rashmi was to display a lack of confidence. Shehnaaz didn't see any reason why she should feel inferior to Rashmi.
Rashmi snapped out of her thoughts when she heard Shehnaaz cough and coughed herself. "Since you know that you can find it online, then why do you have to ask me? Can't you look it up yourself?"
"Are you kidding me?" Shehnaaz raised her brows. The corners of her eyes lifted as she looked at Rashmi playfully. "There are so many things on the internet, so how could I look up anything without even a clue? Do you want to me search your name with Devika Gandhi's on the Alphabet?"
Rashmi's mouth twitched. "On the Alphabet?"
Resting her head on one hand, Shehnaaz looked at her with
annoyance. "Yeah, the American Google. You've used it before, so don't pretend. Hurry up and tell me, what kind of case was it and which court was it held at? Who was the defendant and who was the plaintiff? What was the final
verdict and what was the case number? I will look it up for sure and contact the American courts to verify if you insist on being uncooperative."
Rashmi couldn't play dumb anymore. She was expressionless as she looked down and away from Shehnaaz, saying dryly, "It was the Dough Supermarket from
the city of Buffalo, suing Devika Gandhi for shoplifting. In addition to this, there were other cases of possession of illegal drugs."
Shehnaaz froze. "Devika Gandhi? Shoplifting?" Shoplifting was a petty crime. "She's the daughter of the Prime Minister of the India. Why would she need to steal from a supermarket?!" Shehnaaz was confused. "Are you sure about this?" She could believe that Devika Gandhi was charged with the possession of illegal drugs, since there were always a few black sheep in rich and powerful families.
But, she couldn't see how Devika Gandhi would steal household goods worth that totaled to less than ten US dollars.
Rashmi's confidence finally returned as she sneered at Shehnaaz and replied, "What's so weird about that? Devika Gandhi shoplifted because of her mental illness; it wasn't real theft. How do you think she got out of it? We showed her bank deposits and psychological records to the judge and thus, she wasn't charged."
Shehnaaz finally understood: so this was a 'rich person's disease'. She smiled ruefully and shook her head. "Is that so? Poor people go to jail when they shoplift, while spoilt children of the wealthy can afford to shoplift as a hobby and then blame it on mental illness. You city folk really know how to play."
Rashmi kept silent. After a while, she smiled at Shehnaaz and gave her a knowing look. "Mental illness is indeed a disease, yet it just has to be treated. Many people have mental illness but pretend to be normal people, but
then suddenly, one day, this illusion breaks down with a boom! When that time comes, the true difficulty begins."
Rashmi was implying something, but Shehnaaz ignored her completely. To Shehnaaz, the current conversation only served to beat each other down and see
which woman could get more information out of the other. So, it wasn't necessary to believe what the other person was saying, as long as everything was recorded accurately. The truth would surface when they looked at the evidence after the interrogation. "Miss Desai, you sure know an awful lot about mentally ill people pretending to be normal. Is this because you have personal experience? Why don't you tell me how that feels like? How does the person look like when they have an episode? Tell me, so that I can advise Devika Gandhi to go see a psychologist when I see similar symptoms," Shehnaaz quipped to Rashmi's nonsense.
Rashmi realized that nothing was getting past Shehnaaz, and couldn't help being impressed by her. She had to admit that Kartik had too keen of an eye. "Actually, I don't know much either, but I have heard that if someone
receives a great shock, they will sometimes block their true memories and fabricate a new set of false memories. They pretend to be someone else in order to live peacefully. However, once the truth is revealed, they certainly can't
accept the immense psychological stress and therefore, can't survive." Rashmi spoke slowly, her cold gaze resting on Shehnaaz's face like she was a bamboo viper spitting venom. Her aim was to provoke her.
Shehnaaz felt very uncomfortable by this feeling and tried to control herself from throwing herself at Rashmi and
slapping her pale, round face.
Sidharth sensed something was amiss with Shehnaaz as he watched from the other room and sent her a text: "What is it? Is the interrogation going smoothly?"
Upon seeing a text from Sidharth on the laptop, Shehnaaz's inner turmoil finally settled down. She replied: "It's fine. I'm still interrogating her." She looked up again to grin at Rashmi. "Miss Desai is truly knowledgeable. So, does the patient look like you when she experiences an episode?"
She had only wanted to snub her and say it purely as an unrelated insult, but Rashmi's face fell and actually contorted all of a sudden. She glared at Shehnaaz as though she hated her with all her heart and wanted to eat her alive, making Shehnaaz shiver.
"Miss Desai, you're scaring me when you look at me like that." Shehnaaz shrugged, but didn't appear frightened at all. "I can't help but think that I hit a sore spot."
"Yeah, right." Rashmi quickly composed herself but was a little pale. She clutched her chest and frowned. "My wound is hurting me, please let me rest for a second."
Shehnaaz nodded and didn't continue the interrogation. Instead, she began to sort the results of the earlier questioning and made two notes about Rashmi. One, Rashmi had a complex, and it probably has to do with her identity issues. Two, Devika's case was trivial and
there should be nothing deeper about it. But, the fact that Devika was able to hire Rashmi as a lawyer and befriend her was worth looking into. This point could be delved into through the interrogation with Devika.
After making the two notes, Shehnaaz looked up to see Rashmi looking much better and drinking water. Shehnaaz nodded. "Shall we continue?"
"Alright." Rashmi's voice had normalized. "I apologize for earlier, that was rude of me. I hope Miss Gill will be understanding."
"Ok, I understand." Shehnaaz didn't dig any deeper; she knew that Rashmi had certainly taken new precautions, so it wasn't worth prodding her from that angle anymore.
She began questioning Rashmi and Kartik's relationship. Folding her hands together on the long table before her, Shehnaaz asked with a smile, "How long has Miss Desai been working under Professor Sen for? You are an
Associate Professor at the Harvard Law School, yet why do
you have to stoop down to acting as Professor Sen's nanny?"
*
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I hope you enjoy reading it.
Love you all ❤️.