All language subtitles for Indian Summers (PBS) S1E08 480p BDRIP XviD (moviesbyrizzo)

♫ ♫

(water dripping)

(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?

Defence.

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
behaviour been since?

He's been in the cells--

with his clean slate,
a model prisoner, no doubt.

Unfortunately not.

It was erratic at best.

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, unkempt,

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 could 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?

ExceHenL

(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)
(Open the door!)

(keys jingling)

Save yourself, Ian.

Go home.

(door closes)

(thunder rumbling)

("Loch Lomond" playing)

(rain pouring on roof)

(train horn blowing)

(music stops)

Wakey wakey!

He really is the most
excellent fellow.

(thunder rumbling)

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)

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 Honour,

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 Honour.

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

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 favourite, 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.

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 defence 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)

SoonL“

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.

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)

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 Honour,
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 Honour.

No more questions,
Your Honour.

(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 Honour.

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 Honour, I...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 Honour,
is the witness even able

to continue giving evidence,

or is he perhaps
drunk even now?

JUDGE:
Mr. McLeod,

this behaviour does you
no favours 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 Honour, 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 continues)

(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.

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Group at WGBH access.wgbh.org