Episode 8

I loved her once.

Previously on "Indian Summers."

You have to forget about that now.

LEENA: This has nothing to do with who his mother was.

This is about who his father is.

IAN: Ramu, he has an alibi.

And I'm it.

AAFRIN: You're suggesting Sita betrayed me?

I trust Sita with my life.

Whereas I'm not to be trusted?

AAFRIN: No, you are not.

I feel sorry for you.

You're alone now.

I always was.

"Indian Summer ♪ (water dripping) (metal creaking) (door closes) MAN: Mr. Sood?

Get up, Mr. Sood.

Vinod Mukesh, advocate.

Your cousin just hired me.

I can defend myself.

Against a top-notch Britisher, you'll be eaten alive.

(birds squawking) MAN: Awfully good of you to meet me.

Least I could do.

I'm delighted the case landed on your desk.

High-profile murder in Simla?

Not half as pleased as I was.

Oh, now, how's your backhand these days?

Any chance of a game?

Absolutely.

(coughing) Nearly there, well done.

Eugene, if you can't pay your bill, what do you expect?

Anyway, Mr. Slater needs to be well rested, and your new room is a bit damp.

You know how bad my chest is.

If I don't have fresh... Oh, please, you're boring me now.

Don't blame me if I die down there!

Ralph Whelan.

Hugh Slater.

Old friend of mine, and one of Delhi's top prosecutors.

Oh, Ronnie, what utter rot.

Welcome to Simla.

Afraid you'll find life up here rather dull.

On the contrary.

I'm rather enjoying myself already.

Well, anything we can lay on.

You a polo man?

Well, Ronnie did promise tennis.

Perhaps you'd like to join us?

I'm afraid I'm rather taken up with Gandhi and his wretched fast.

Dr. Ambedkar is with him now, trying to thrash out a deal.

Mmm.

Lawyers.

Tricky devils.

Mr. Gandhi's an Inner Temple man, just like me.

Is he?

Good Lord!

(laughing): Gandhi at the British bar.

Priceless!

So who's defending Mr. Sood?

No one, I believe.

Open and shut, old loves.

Oh, no.

They're never that.

Come on, buck up, man.

Where's your spirit?

You think I win these cases on my own?

Never.

Mr. Sood, I believe in you and I am going to fight hard, but I need you to meet me halfway.

Let me help you.

(crowd chatting) DAPHNE: I can't believe your husband actually pulled her out of the river.

Was she battered about, or just punctured with single stab wounds?

He didn't go into the details.

He's rather boring like that.

McLeod!

Is he with us?

Prosecution?

Defense.

The chap's gone completely native.

Morning, ladies!

Sahib.

ROWNTREE: I swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help me God.

Inspector Rowntree, can you confirm that the man in the dock is Ramu Sood, whom you charge with murder?

That is correct.

And with what evidence did you feel able to charge him?

(laughs): Where shall I start?

At the beginning.

(crowd chuckling) Yes.

Yes, of course.

It appeared to be a random killing.

Brutal.

But nonetheless, it's fair to say I was at a loss as to the motive until the appearance of Mr. McLeod.

It was Mr. McLeod who told me that the victim had stolen Mrs. Sood's wedding dress.

Of course, this was a line of inquiry I was keen to pursue.

Without jumping to any conclusions, I hope.

Absolutely not, no.

Just wanted to talk to Mr. Sood.

Unfortunately, he himself had also vanished.

(light laughter) What, if anything, did you infer from this?

In my experience, the innocent do not run from justice.

Can you think of any other explanation for Mr. Sood's actions?

No, I cannot.

And how has his behavior been since?

He's been in the cells-- with his clean slate, a model prisoner, no doubt.

Unfortunately not.

It was erratic at best.

A violent contretemps with a fellow prisoner.

A confession, later strenuously retracted.

Thank you.

Oh, um... Can you describe Mr. McLeod's appearance when he came to the police station?

Yes, it was... ...unshaven, unkept, and smelling distinctly of alcohol.

No further questions.

(crowd murmuring) (kids chatting playfully) I'm sorry, I left them out on the desk.

Another tile must have come off the roof in the night.

(sighs) Can I deal with it later?

Is that Mr. Whelan's check?

You still have it?

Everywhere I look, the money's already half-spent in my head.

What will you do?

Take it.

Spend it.

It's only money.

It's not going to bite us.

Whatever you think.

Yes.

Yes, I'll take it up to the bank in the morning.

Dougie...

In the night, I couldn't help thinking about Jaya.

She brought Adam to Simla to meet his father.

Doesn't someone need to know that before this trial is over?

It might have some kind of bearing on the case.

You could tell Mr. Sood's lawyer.

What?

That we think the Viceroy's private secretary is Adam's own father?

ALICE (to child): Did you?

And where were you hiding?

If I thought it'd help the lad, I'd do it like a shot.

You know that.

Our job is to take care of him.

And the others.

You'll have to decide for yourself.

(phones ringing) Mr. Whelan?

Everything all right?

Hm?

Good news from Poona.

Ambedkar has struck a deal with Gandhi.

The fast is off.

No separate electorate, but the untouchables receive a guaranteed number of seats, fully twice the number proposed by Mr. Ramsay MacDonald.

Really?

Well, that is good news.

Did you hear?

Ambedkar's knocked some sense into old Gandhi.

They've signed some sort of... pact, is it?

I say, that's a turn-up.

Will it last?

Shouldn't think so.

Then they'll be back to square one.

Honestly, I've seen more unity in a pantomime pony.

It's all signed and sealed, Mr. Keane.

Mmm.

Has the Viceroy been informed?

Not to my knowledge, sir.

I suppose I'd better break the news.

Sooner you than me, old love.

I say, shall we send Mr. Gandhi a hamper?

Or a cream tea?

(laughs) (angrily): Is this a game for you?

When you leave, it will be us who are picking up the pieces, living with your plans.

Well spoken, Dalal.

Well, I'm not getting my coat quite yet, if it's all right with you chaps.

Come on, come on.

Good day in court?

How's Hugh?

Brilliant.

Only snare is he's forgotten his whites.

I was about to pop down to the Mall, but maybe Mr. Dalal could be prevailed upon on his way home?

If it's not too much trouble.

Of course.

(crowd chatting) IAN: I saw him.

I saw him standing on his veranda, so how did he possibly kill that poor woman?

He cannot be in two places.

Less feeling, Mr. Ian.

You must appear clear and rational.

Oh.

This is Miss Dalal, my new... What shall I call you?

My new chai wallah?

Miss Dalal has asked to assist me to secure her place at a college of law.

Please.

I was talking about the need for preparation.

After today's evidence, what do you think I should be talking to Mr. McLeod about?

Don't be shy.

The smell of alcohol?

Excellent.

(sighs) The smell of alcohol.

And what are you going to say, sir?

Drinking is part of life here.

Mr. McLeod.

You are the key that unlocks this case.

You are Ramu Sood's alibi.

As a British gentleman, your word is your bond.

We'll all believe you.

The British won't.

They hate me.

Why?

SOONI: Because you're not like them.

Ramu has done nothing wrong.

I just want to see justice done.

And with your help, Mr. McLeod, we will.

(laughing) (light jazz playing) DAPHNE: Something so naughty about his smile.

I rather think I might try my luck.

Confirmed bachelor.

Cynthia told me.

Excuse me.

What the hell are you doing here?

Mountain.

Muhammad.

(whispering): I've been waiting all bloody day for you to bring me news from court.

I can't go in.

I'm a witness, in case you'd forgotten.

Anyway, Kaiser said it's going very well.

So nothing's come out?

About the boy?

Of course not.

You could have come and told me.

I'm entertaining Hugh.

Oh, what a drag.

Poor old you.

Listen, sweetie pie, this is your problem.

I'm doing this for you.

I just can't stop thinking about it.

Listen to me.

Go home and stay home.

Whatever you do, avoid the Mission.

Head down, trap shut.

Clear?

Oi.

Good to see you.

Good to see you.

(laughs) I thought the food in here might not be up to much.

You're too kind.

Please.

Mmm.

Good?

Mmm!

Delicious.

Thank you.

I met your lawyer.

He's good.

Yes.

My cousin has apparently bought me the best man in town.

Let's just hope he's as good as everyone says.

Well... My evidence will help.

I'm not sure we need it.

Really?

Mukesh seems to think I'm the key to the whole thing.

No.

No...

I just don't think it'll add much.

I said I'd do it.

Then you're stupid.

Even more stupid than I thought.

Well, let me tell you, the prosecution will tear you apart.

Is that what you want?

To be a failure?

An embarrassment to your family?

Every detail of your life picked over?

You want to know what'll happen?

You'll turn into a drunken fool, just like your uncle.

No business, no money, no self-respect, nothing.

You're a boy, Ian.

Just a boy.

Don't think you can run with men.

So what do I do?

Sit by and watch while they reach the wrong verdict?

Let them trample all over you?

This is India.

Meaning what exactly?

Meaning don't come to court, don't give evidence!

(speaking Hindi) (keys jingling) Save yourself, Ian.

Go home.

(door closes) (thunder rumbling) ("Loch Lomond" playing) (rain pouring on roof) (train whistle blowing) (music stops) Wakey wakey!

He really is the most excellent fellow.

(thunder rumbling) HUGH: Can you confirm that you organize the annual Sipi Fair at the Simla Club?

Yes, that's right.

It's a key event in the Simla calendar.

You can't imagine the catering involved.

(crowd chuckling) HUGH: Can you describe the events of this summer's fair with regard to the defendant, Mr. Sood?

Yes.

Mr. Sood had been pursuing my late friend, Mr. Armitage, for quite some time over an alleged debt.

VINOD: Objection.

This is irrelevant.

Character of the defendant.

Well, the fair was neither the time nor place to discuss business, but Mr. Sood wouldn't take no for an answer and he became quite violent.

(quietly): Attagirl.

A wealthy landowner, a chap used to getting his own way.

Please confine yourself to what actually happened, Mrs. Coffin.

Well... Sood launched himself at Armie.

Punched him.

You know, he's a much older man, with a dicky heart.

And the outcome?

Well, he was... shaken, you know, and bruised and...

He decided to return to Scotland, but he just wasn't strong enough.

He died en route.

Never made it home.

A tragic loss.

What I need you to understand is that although we're all here by choice-- and, God knows, each of us for our own reasons-- to be denied a proper homecoming at the end like this... it is unforgivable.

And to my mind, Mr. Sood is very lucky he's only being charged with one murder.

(crowd murmuring) Your Honor, this is an outrageous allegation!

You can't possibly keep that!

JUDGE: Strike it from the record.

Not working today?

No, thank you.

No one is.

Even Ronnie begged for the day off to go and gawp.

Are you not tempted to go?

Gosh, no.

The Viceroy's Secretary rubbernecking at court?

Wouldn't do for us Whelans to sully ourselves with the law, would it?

HUGH: So, what's it to be?

Yes or no?

Did you run away or not?

Yes, because I knew what would happen.

Indeed.

As you say yourself, you were found and arrested.

Yes.

And you then confessed to murder.

Objection!

My client has retracted his confession.

Yes, yes.

I'd like my client's retraction officially noted under Section 14...

Section 14 of the Indian... 14(a), Your Honor.

(chuckling): "14(a), Your Honor."

Thank you, Mr. Mukesh.

Anyone would think he'd brought the justice system to India.

HUGH: Shall we cut short all this hoopla?

Why don't you plead guilty now and put yourself out of your misery?

My client has absolutely no intention of taking back his plea.

I was puzzled by all this to-ing and fro-ing, Your Honor, until I considered Mr. Sood's wife and baby died in childbirth a few months ago.

How have you been since your wife's death?

Do not talk about my wife.

You want to play games with me?

Go ahead.

But she is not here, and I am still grieving for her soul.

Indeed.

So...

When a Tamil peasant paraded in your wife's wedding dress, you grabbed a knife... What the hell are you saying?!

I'm offering you mitigation!

Unless, of course, you did it in cold blood.

Bastard.

Bastard!

JUDGE: That's enough, Mr. Sood.

We will leave it there before we call your first witness, Mr. Mukesh.

The court is adjourned for lunch.

(gavel strikes) Where's McLeod?

DARIUS: Mmm.

ROSHANA: That's Aafrin's favorite, too.

Mmm.

More rice, and he needs some curry.

Ma!

You have to stop doing all that.

It's up to you now to take good care of him.

Improve his time-keeping.

His bad breath in the mornings.

DARIUS: Oh, please, Shamshad, I'm trying to eat.

Well, Sita needs to know all about... AAFRIN: No, she does not.

Aafrin!

Aafrin, come on in.

Give him his plate.

Here.

Have some of this.

Sorry I'm late, Ma.

I went for a walk.

SOONI: A stroll.

How very pleasant.

That's enough.

Naturally, we were all waiting on tenterhooks for your arrival.

My sister is a ray of sunshine, as always.

DARIUS: Aafrin, the key defense witness hasn't turned up to court, so Mr. Mukesh has asked Sooni to go and fetch him.

They have a rapport.

ROSHANA: Whatever they have, I'm not letting any daughter of mine go off alone to meet some English chap.

He's Scottish.

Scottish are the worst of the lot.

I can go with you.

Really?

If you wish.

We have to go now.

Come!

Bye.

Bye-bye, Sooni.

Don't go yet!

I've made falooda!

My parents don't even know where I am.

This is your second home.

(knocking) Come!

Yes?

Can I help you?

If you are looking for a lawyer, Miss... Prasad.

Prasad.

I'm entirely taken up with a murder trial at the moment.

That's why I'm here.

I work at the Mission School with Mr. Raworth.

You see, the children, they... they talk to us.

Please, take a seat.

No, you need to speak to Mr. Raworth.

He's in charge there.

But Miss Prasad, it's you who have come to see me.

If you know something pertaining to this case in any manner, it's your duty to tell me.

Never thought I'd see you chasing after the Britishers.

You're the apke wasti.

"Yes, Mr. Whelan.

No, Mr.

Whelan."

It's not like that.

My good God.

Mr. McLeod?

Mr. McLeod!

What am I going to do, Aafrin?

You are not Ian McLeod, are you?

(crowd laughing) Mr. McLeod has been delayed.

A new witness for the defense, Your Honor.

Madam, can you tell us your name and your occupation?

Leena Prasad.

I'm a teacher at the Mission.

A school for half-castes?

Yes.

And why are you here?

One of our children, Adam, is Jaya's son.

JUDGE: The victim has a son?

Has this been disclosed?

HUGH: Any progeny of the victim is of no relevance to the prosecution case.

Thank you, Your Honor.

Do continue, Mr. Mukesh.

Thank you.

Miss Prasad, why is Adam in Simla?

He said Jaya brought him here so he could meet his father.

A British man, presumably?

Yes.

Do you know who that man is?

Not in so many words.

Meaning you have a strong suspicion?

Well, I... She said, "No."

No, she did not.

She said, "Not in so many words."

Which in legal terms means no.

Do you know who the father is?

No.

JUDGE: Thank you.

Continue, Mr. Mukesh.

Has Adam shared any thoughts with you about his father?

Objection-- opinion!

He calls him rakshas.

For the benefit of our English speakers, could you translate what that means, the word "rakshas"?

Demon.

It means demon.

ALICE: "Raja Rasalu."

Are we all ready?

CHILDREN: Yes.

ALICE: Once upon a time, there lived a Raja whose name was Salabhan, and he had a Queen by the name Lona who, though she wept and prayed at many a shrine, had never had a child to gladden her eyes.

After a long time, however, a son was born... Adam?

Adam!

I came about the repairs.

That boy... Who is he?

Didn't you hear me?

He's called Adam.

Adam!

Adam!

VINOD: The prosecution has made much of motive.

But what is the motive for this murder?

A stolen dress?

Is that the motive?

Or is it something else?

Let us see.

Let us turn to young Adam.

What state was he in when you first met him?

Mr. Raworth and I found him abandoned, dying, on a railway track at the start of the summer.

Why?

He was blamed for a crop failing.

He is Eurasian.

Like yourself?

Yes.

Is it true, Miss Prasad, that Anglo-Indians often face such hardship?

Not just terrible acts of violence like the one you just described, but routine mockery by the British?

Teased as eight annas to the rupee, blackie-whites and so on?

Yes.

And how do such descriptions make you feel?

That we don't belong.

Of course.

Now, could you tell the court what happened when you saw Jaya, the victim, with her son Adam?

She tried to abduct him.

She was desperate, possessed.

She picked up a rock and hit me.

Cut me right here.

A violent attack.

You must have been furious.

Worried for the boy.

Protective, of course.

Perhaps thinking, "Who would make a better mother for him?"

No, that isn't true.

Perhaps thinking that life would be an awful lot easier for Adam if she weren't around?

No, no.

(shouting): Perhaps planning your own funeral...

Enough!

You let her be.

(retching) JUDGE: The heat is overwhelming the ladies in the gallery.

The court'll be adjourned till morning.

Your witness does not need to return.

(sighs) Go, then.

I can't leave you here.

Honestly, Sooni, you've done your duty twice over.

Duty?

No, it doesn't feel like that.

Not when it's something you care about.

I did something once.

Took a risk.

(scoffs) That note about Baapi's medals.

Sita did give it to you, didn't she?

Not that again.

No.

I already told you.

Why?

What has she been saying?

Nothing.

Aafrin, name me one time I have ever lied to you.

No, you are truthful to a fault.

So why, all of a sudden, do you not believe me when I tell you I never received a note about Baapi or anyone else's medals?

I don't know.

(twigs crunching) Sooni... What?

(rustling) SOONI: Oh, no.

(fan whirring) Alice...

I'm so stupid.

The British court...

I thought it would be fair.

But it wasn't.

Now I've made everything worse.

My God.

What did they do to you?

The missionary stood up, she threw up, and the poor little half-caste burst into tears!

RONNIE: It really was quite extraordinary.

(sobbing) CYNTHIA: Well, I don't suppose any harm was done, as long as it didn't damage the case.

HUGH: No, I think we're still standing.

RONNIE: He's being modest.

No harm done.

STELLA: But we're no clearer as to who the father is.

The suspense is killing me.

Well, I didn't want to say anything before, but now it's all out in the open... Dear old Armie.

He really was a one-off.

I'm afraid it was an open secret round here that he had his way with half the natives.

I mean, he just wasn't very choosy, you know?

Dirty bugger!

I mean, only the other day, this sweet little thing pops in looking for a job.

Another one of his.

I had to tell her.

I said, "Look, if I gave a job "to every one of Armie's offspring, "I'd have more maids than the Cecil!"

(laughing) Here... Get off me!

Don't touch me!

(crying) I can't bear it!

I feel like the leper in one of your boring, boring sermons.

I'm sorry.

They were actually starting to like me.

After all these years, I would say something and everybody would look at me and laugh and...

They were letting me in.

That's all gone now, thanks to you.

Come here... No, get off.

I had no choice.

I couldn't just stand there while lies were being told.

If only either of us could ever believe that were true.

(birds squawking, dog barking) Please don't bully me.

My head's pounding.

Are you going to go back home?

Aye.

Another McLeod disaster.

(chuckles softly) What?

When I was a child, I used to wonder, what is so special about you people that you have two countries to go between?

And then at school, we were told it was something called "British values" that set you apart.

And how were we taught this?

With the help of a poem by your great Rudyard Kipling.

Born in Bombay, just like me.

Oh, aye, we had him foisted on us, too.

I know!

Thundering in my head, thanks to Sister Christine and her horsewhip.

(laughs) "If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken..." And then?

Aye, aye... What then?

"Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools."

"For fools!

"And watch the things "you gave your life to broken..." "...and stoop and build them up with worn-out tools."

Mmm.

Imperialist claptrap.

HUGH: Am I right in saying that you are a dhobi or laundryman and the night of the murder, you were near the river looking for a piece of clothing?

(quietly): It's the rogue who sublets dresses!

HUGH: And you heard a scream and hid in the trees.

I was so scared, sahib.

I saw a man run away, running fast.

What did he look like?

Well, I think he was Indian.

Wearing kurta pajamas.

Why didn't you give this information to the police?

Because he ran off so fast, he left his chappals on a rock.

And you took those chappals, didn't you?

Yes, sahib.

Is this one of the sandals that you stole?

Yes, sahib.

Now, we have heard many wild theories from my learned friend.

That the victim was murdered by an Anglo-Indian woman desperate to become a mother.

Or even a British man, desirous of keeping his paternity secret.

Your Honor, I would simply ask: can you imagine such a shoe being worn by a lady or a British gentleman?

(laughing) JUDGE: Order!

Order!

(laughter subsides) (door opens) (crowd murmuring) (footsteps approaching) If you're after my brother, I'm afraid he's not here.

It's you I want to talk to.

I'm sorry.

I'm so sorry.

I was completely wrong, Alice.

Miss Whelan.

And it's a little late for apologies.

What the hell are you doing?

Bhupin...!

You have to listen to me.

Yes, I'll just fetch that, uh... That painting book for Mr. Dalal.

Tea for two in the drawing room.

Mr. McLeod, I believe you grew up in Scotland?

Aye.

What was your childhood like?

Ordinary.

Dull, I'm afraid.

Were you church-going?

Aye, Presbyterian.

What does your father do?

He's in timber.

Good, honest trade, he always says.

And did he bring you up to be honest?

Tell the truth?

Oh, aye, it was drummed into us from an early age.

In what way?

My big brother felt the lash of his belt once or twice.

And you yourself?

I saw the stripes on his backside.

(chuckling) I've always told the truth.

Without your word, what have you got?

You were with Mr. Sood that evening.

What did you talk about?

He told me that Jaya had stolen his late wife's wedding dress.

And what was his attitude to that?

Upset, but resigned.

He'd dealt with it, and the thing was over.

Could you describe to us his mood that evening?

Calm.

Reflective.

Like a man about to brutally stab a woman to death?

Absolutely not.

In fact, when I arrived, he had nodded off and was dozing quite happily.

(chuckling) VINOD: Was it a clear night?

Aye, the moon was out.

It was beautiful.

I was actually beginning to fall in love with this crazy country.

And after you said goodnight to Mr. Sood?

I walked down the steps and turned back to wave.

Mr. Sood was on his veranda.

All the lights were on.

And he was facing me as he is now: like a father looking out for his son.

You went out of your way.

You lied for me, and all I could do was blame you for someone else's mistake.

I'm so sorry, truly.

Alice, say something.

(footsteps approaching) Yes, it is rather beautiful.

Do you do landscapes, Mr. Dalal?

I prefer to draw people.

And if your subject is unwilling?

Persist.

(clears throat) Thank you, Bhupinder.

(whispering): Alice...

I was so impressed that you could draw my portrait from memory.

Dredge up all the details.

The exact... curve of your lip.

Please, don't.

Forgive me.

It's not me you should say that to.

I don't love her.

Then why don't you leave her?

You have no idea what that means, how hard it would be for her.

I do.

And I left carrying a baby.

She has no India to run to.

What would she do?

Tell me, Alice, what would she do?

I don't know.

Find someone?

No one.

No one would take her.

(sighs) Then you'd better go.

Aafrin!

Aafrin!

(sighs) (footsteps approaching) Aafrin.

I don't understand.

What have I done?

Say something, please.

You lied to me.

What?

What are you talking about?

You held on to that note.

You didn't give it to Sooni.

No.

No, I did give it.

I promise, I did give it.

It doesn't matter.

Look, please go.

I want to be on my own.

I don't want you here.

Again.

Do it again.

I feel nothing.

Nothing at all.

Don't!

Don't do this!

You can't leave me here.

I'll be ruined!

What shall I do?

(crying) Aafrin, tell me!

Anything!

What shall I do?

How shall I be?

I hurt you.

My poor baby...

I'm sorry.

No... No.

Aafrin!

I was so scared of your family!

If I'd known it was so important... Aafrin!

Aafrin!

I'm sorry!

I'm sorry...

I saw Mr. Sood on his veranda.

I walked one or two paces, and that's when I heard the scream.

There is no way on earth Mr. Sood could have been in the wood at that time.

Is there any doubt at all in your mind about that?

Absolutely not.

None.

No doubt whatsoever.

Your Honor.

No more questions, Your Honor.

(crowd murmuring) Mr. McLeod, how many whiskies did you and Mr. Sood consume on the night of the murder?

Three, or perhaps four.

Would it be fair to say that you were drunk when you left?

Well... You are under oath, Mr. McLeod.

I wasn't sober, true enough.

But my memory of the events is clear.

Although your memory of the number of whiskies is cloudy.

(scattered chuckling) I think we get the point.

Please bear with me, Your Honor.

The point is that Mr. McLeod has a serious problem with alcohol.

Indeed, I have detailed statements from Mrs. Stella Knox-Barnham and Mrs. Cynthia Coffin, as well as two servants, of a number of occasions when Mr. McLeod has been incapably drunk.

Drinking is part of life here.

As Mrs. Coffin told me, "Judge a man when he's sober or not at all."

In your case, that would be rather difficult to arrange.

(crowd laughing) I'm sorry to say that drinking is just but the start of it.

I have reports of rowdy arguments, unpleasant scenes... McLeod has lied.

He's let people down at key social events, forced himself on married women.

Your Honor, I...!

Mr. McLeod is not the honest Scot we have been led to believe.

He is a liar, a philanderer, and a reprobate.

He is a traitor to his own people.

Indeed, he has been permanently barred from the Royal Simla Club.

So when Mr. McLeod says he remembers seeing Mr. Sood on the veranda, I would ask you to think very carefully before relying on such evidence, particularly in the light of the fact that Mr. McLeod and Mr. Sood are in business together and Mr. McLeod has a vested interest in seeing Mr. Sood walk free.

What?

You think I'm lying to protect my business?

Are you lying, Mr. McLeod?

Oh, he's twisting everything!

Shall we continue?

Aye, play on!

Let your farce continue!

Your Honor, is the witness even able to continue giving evidence, or is he perhaps drunk even now?

JUDGE: Mr. McLeod, this behavior does you no favors at all.

Not very British, is it?

Better I keep quiet... McLeod!

...stick to my own, swallow the lie, sit back and watch while an innocent man goes down, like all the bloodsuckers over there!

JUDGE: Mr. McLeod!

Be quiet, or you'll be held in contempt of court!

VINOD: Your Honor, can you grant my witness a break from cross- examination, please, just for a moment?

Thank you.

McLeod?

McLeod.

I have no further questions.

(door slams) He's insisting.

On what?

He wants to speak to his father.

Seems I can't protect him after all.

(opera music playing) (sighs) Oh!

What are you doing out here?

Trouble sleeping?

I could ask you the same thing.

What's that supposed to mean?

Nothing!

Just wondering why you've shown up gone midnight, that's all.

I heard there was a scene in court.

What?

Oh, no.

It was nothing Hugh couldn't handle.

Night before the verdict.

Feels like an exam.

Chin up.

Final furlong.

Do you think Sood did it?

What?

Of course he did it!

Oh, Ralph, don't look so worried.

I'm always here, you know.

I'm not going anywhere.

Maybe that's my fear.

(water dripping) (thunder rumbling) Mr. Sood.

Based on the evidence that I've heard... On the charge of murder...

...I find you guilty.

(mixed cheering and jeering) Order!

(commotion halts) And in accordance to the law, I sentence you to be hanged by the neck until death.

(shouting) (shouting continues) From the Mission school, sahib.

Thank you.

DOUGIE: Dear Mr. Whelan, I return your check.

I don't know what it is you want, nor what you've done.

We are not for sale-- not me nor any of the children.

Please do not come here again.

Next time on Masterpiece.

I'm so happy to see you.

Aafrin's got himself a little English missy!

CYNTHIA: I am here to stop you from hurting yourself.

Get off!

A special two-hour season finale.

Those people are against me.

You've a few friends yet, Mr. Ramu.

Nothing is impossible.

Will you help us?

"Indian Summers," next time on Masterpiece.

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