“If he had been carrying a gun, he would have used to it to save his life. He would have used it to stop Singh when he started waving that axe.”

“But he didn’t?”

“Upon entering the packing shed, and hearing Singh’s abuse, we were immediately put off,” Hitchcock continued. “Yet Mr. Edgar and I had a job to get done, and we entered the packing shed to do it. Singh brandished that axe to try to make us leave. But we wouldn’t be deterred. Although he was threatening us, I didn’t believe he’d be so determined as to take action. But it was clear now that had been his intent all along.”

“Mr. Hitchcock, how would you explain that Mr. Edgar’s body was found with a holster? How would you explain that the holster was empty?”

“It was a busy day, sir,” Hitchcock said. “Have you never been absent-minded on a busy day? Left your home in the morning without something you should have taken with you?”

The courtroom was quiet. Ram imagined every person was reminded of the time they had done that very thing.

“Would you say, Mr. Hitchcock, that you or Mr. Edgar did anything at all to provoke the defendant?”

“We did nothing. We only wanted to do our work peaceably.”

“What did the defendant do next?”

“He yelled at us to ‘Get out of my shed! Get off of my farm!’ Then, before I knew what he was doing. He swung at Mr. Edgar with the axe and wounded him.”

The jury was listening intently, bodies bent forward, focused on Hitchcock’s elegant face.

“The axe hit him somewhere in the upper arm or shoulder,” Hitchcock continued. “I was very fearful and stumbled back, but I thought the best escape for us both was if I could start my car and we could leave the farm to safety. I believed that Mr. Edgar’s injuries would not prevent him from running. But somehow they did.”

Now Hitchcock looked at Ram. Cold blue eyes that alarmed him, focused directly on his face. “It’s only because of that Hindu that I didn’t die too.”

“Which Hindu?” the district attorney asked.

“That one.” Hitchcock pointed at Ram. All eyes in the courtroom turned to him. Ram froze.

“He wrestled the defendant to the ground,” Hitchcock continued. His voice was hollow, his face without expression, because now he was telling the truth. “That gave me enough time to crank the engine of my car, allowing me to escape.”