The Luminaries

‘Exactly right.’

‘You will forgive me if I consider your intentions somewhat illogical, Mr. Staines.’

‘What’s illogical about it?’ said the boy. ‘I wanted A

‘For what reason?’

‘Because she deserved to have it, and he deserved to lose it,’ said Emery Staines.

More laughter, more widespread this time. Moody was becoming anxious: he had warned Staines against speaking too fancifully, or too pertly.

When it was quiet again the justice said, ‘I do not believe that it is your prerogative, Mr. Staines, to adjudicate what a person does or does not deserve. You will kindly restrict yourself, in the future, to factual statements only.’

Staines sobered at once. ‘I understand, sir,’ he said.

The justice nodded. ‘Continue, Mr. Broham.’

Abruptly, Broham changed the subject. ‘You were absent from Hokitika for over two months,’ he said. ‘What caused your absence?’

‘I’m ashamed to say that I’ve been under the effects of opium, sir,’ said Staines. ‘I was astonished to discover, upon my return, that over two months had passed.’

‘Where have you been?’

‘I believe I have spent much of the time in the opium den at Kaniere Chinatown,’ said Staines, ‘but I couldn’t tell you for sure.’

Broham paused. ‘The opium den,’ he repeated.

‘Yes, sir,’ said Staines. ‘The proprietor was a fellow named Sook. Ah Sook.’

Broham did not want to dwell on the subject of Ah Sook. ‘You were discovered,’ he said, ‘on the twentieth of March, in the cottage that once belonged to Crosbie Wells. What were you doing there?’

‘I believe I was looking for my bonanza,’ said Staines. ‘Only I got a little muddled—I was unwell—and I couldn’t remember where I’d buried it.’

‘When did you first develop a dependency upon opium, Mr. Staines?’

‘I first touched the drug on the night of the fourteenth of January.’

‘In other words, the very night that Crosbie Wells died.’

‘So they tell me.’

‘A bit of a coincidence, wouldn’t you say?’

Moody objected to this. ‘Mr. Wells died of natural causes,’ he said. ‘I ca

‘In fact,’ said Broham, ‘the post-mortem revealed a small quantity of laudanum in Mr. Wells’s stomach.’

‘A small quantity,’ Moody repeated.

‘Continue with your interrogation, Mr. Broham,’ said the justice. ‘Sit down, Mr. Moody.’

‘Thank you, sir,’ said Broham to the justice. He turned back to Staines. ‘Can you think of a reason, Mr. Staines, why Mr. Wells might have taken any quantity of laudanum together with a great quantity of whisky?’

‘Perhaps he was in pain.’

‘Pain of what kind?’

‘I am speculating,’ said Staines. ‘I’m afraid I can only speculate: I did not know the man’s personal habits intimately, and I was not with him that evening. I mean only that laudanum is often taken as a pain relief—or as an aid to sleep.’

‘Not on top of a bottle of whisky, it’s not.’

‘I certainly would not attempt such a combination myself. But I ca

‘Do you take laudanum, Mr. Staines?’

‘Only when prescribed; not as a habit.’

‘Do you have a prescription currently?’

‘Currently I do,’ said Staines, ‘but it is a very recent prescription.’

‘How recent, please?’

‘It was first administered to me on the twentieth of March,’ said Staines, ‘as a pain relief, and as a method of weaning me from my addiction.’

‘Prior to the twentieth of March, have you ever purchased or otherwise obtained a phial of laudanum from Pritchard’s drug emporium on Collingwood-street?’

‘No.’

‘A phial of laudanum was discovered in Crosbie Wells’s cottage some days after his death,’ said Broham. ‘Do you know how it got there?’

‘No.’

‘Was Mr. Wells, to your knowledge, dependent upon opiates?’

‘He was a drunk,’ said Staines. ‘That’s all I know.’

Broham studied him. ‘Please tell the Court how you spent the night of the fourteenth of January, in sequence, and in your own words.’

‘I met with A

‘What happened next?’ said Broham, when Staines did not go on.

‘I went under, of course,’ said Staines. ‘It was heavenly.’

Broham looked a

‘Well, I had a pretty decent go at her pipe, and then I lay down on her bed, and slept for a bit—or dreamed; it wasn’t sleep exactly. When I came up again, the lamp was cold, and the bowl of the pipe was empty, and A

‘All this from your very first taste,’ said Broham, sceptically.

‘Yes,’ said Staines.

‘What did you do?’

‘I made for the den in Chinatown at once. It was early—just past dawn. I saw no one on the road at all.’

‘How long did you remain in Kaniere Chinatown?’

‘I think a fortnight—but it’s hard to recall exactly; each day blurred into the next. Ah Sook was ever so kind to me. He took me in, fed me, made sure I never ate too much. He kept tally of my debts on a little chalkboard.’

‘Did you see anyone else, over this period?’

‘No,’ said Staines, ‘but really, I can’t remember much at all.’

‘What is the next thing you remember?’

‘I woke up one day and Ah Sook was not there. I became very upset. He had taken his opium with him—he always did, when he left the den—and I turned the place over, looking for it, becoming more and more desperate. And then I remembered Miss Wetherell’s supply.

‘I set off for Hokitika at once—in a frenzy. It was raining very heavily that morning, and there were not many people about, and I made it to Hokitika without seeing anyone I knew. I entered the Gridiron by the rear door, and ascended the servants’ staircase at the back. I waited until A

‘The drapes?’

‘Yes,’ said Staines. ‘That’s where I was hiding, when I took the bullet from A

Broham’s face was growing red. ‘How long did you remain hidden behind the drapes?’

‘Hours,’ said Staines. ‘If I were to guess, I’d say from about twelve until about three. But that is an estimation.’

‘Did Miss Wetherell know that you were in her room on that day?’

‘No.’

‘What about Mr. Gascoigne—or Mr. Pritchard?’

‘No,’ said Staines again. ‘I kept very quiet, and stood very still. I’m certain that none of them knew that I was there.’

Fellowes was whispering intently in Harrington’s ear.