before Mrs. Carver’s arrival at the Gridiron Hotel?’

‘I was in my room, talking to Mr. Pritchard,’ Anna recited. ‘My pistol was in the front of my dress, like it always is. Mr. Gascoigne came into the room very suddenly, and I was startled, so I took out the pistol, and it misfired. None of us could figure out what went wrong. Mr. Gascoigne thought the piece might be broken, so he had me reload it, and then he fired it a second time into my pillow, to make sure that it was working correctly. Then he gave the piece back to me, and I put it back in my drawer, and that was the last I touched it.’

‘In other words, two shots were fired that afternoon.’

‘Yes.’

‘The second bullet lodged in your pillow,’ the lawyer said. ‘What happened to the first?’

‘It vanished,’ Anna said.

‘It vanished?’ said Broham, raising his eyebrows.

‘Yes,’ said Anna. ‘It didn’t lodge anywhere.’

‘Was the window open, by any chance?’

‘No,’ Anna said. ‘It was raining. I don’t know where the cartridge went. None of us could figure it out.’

‘It just—vanished,’ said Broham.

‘That’s right,’ said Anna.

Broham had no further questions. He sat down, smirking slightly, and the justice invited Moody to cross- examine.

‘Thank you, sir,’ said Moody. ‘Miss Wetherell, all three of today’s charges have been brought against you by Mr. George Shepard, governor of the Hokitika Gaol. Do you have a personal acquaintance with the man?’

This was a conversation they had practised many times; Anna answered without hesitation. ‘None at all.’

‘And yet in addition to bringing the charges against you today, Governor Shepard has made numerous allegations about your sanity, has he not?’

‘Yes: he says that I am insane.’

‘Have you and Governor Shepard ever spoken at length?’

‘No.’

‘Have you ever transacted business of any kind together?’

‘No.’

‘To your knowledge, does Governor Shepard have reason to bear ill-will towards you?’

‘No,’ she said. ‘I haven’t done anything to him.’

‘I understand you share a mutual acquaintance, however,’ Moody said. ‘Is that correct?’

‘Yes,’ said Anna. ‘Ah Sook. A Chinaman. He ran the dragon den at Kaniere, and he was my very dear friend. He was shot dead on the twentieth of March—by Governor Shepard.’

Broham leaped up to object. ‘Governor Shepard had a warrant for that man’s arrest,’ he said, ‘and on that occasion he was acting in his capacity as a member of the police. Mr. Moody is casting aspersions.’

‘I am aware of the warrant, Mr. Broham,’ said Moody. ‘I raise the issue because I believe the mutual acquaintance is a pertinent point of connexion between plaintiff and defendant.’

‘Continue, Mr. Moody,’ said the justice. He was frowning.

Broham sat down.

‘What was Governor Shepard’s connexion to Mr. Sook?’ Moody asked Anna.

‘Ah Sook was accused of murdering Governor Shepard’s brother,’ Anna said, speaking clearly. ‘In Sydney. Fifteen years ago.’

All of a sudden the courtroom was very still.

‘What was the outcome of the trial?’ Moody said.

‘Ah Sook was acquitted at the last minute,’ said Anna. ‘He walked free.’

‘Did Mr. Sook ever speak of this matter to you?’ said Moody.

‘His English was not very good,’ said Anna, ‘but he often used the words “revenge”, and “murder”. Sometimes he talked in his sleep. I didn’t understand it at the time.’

‘On these occasions to which you refer,’ Moody said, ‘how did Mr. Sook appear to you?’

‘Vexed,’ Anna said. ‘Perhaps frightened. I didn’t think anything of it until afterwards. I didn’t know about Governor Shepard’s brother till after Ah Sook was killed.’

Moody turned to the justice, holding up a piece of paper. ‘The defence refers the Court to the transcript of the trial, recorded in the Sydney Herald on the ninth of July, 1854. The original can be found at the Antipodean Archives on Wharf-street, where it is currently being held; in the meantime, I submit a witnessed copy to the Court.’

He passed the copy along the bench to be handed up to the justice, and then turned back to Anna. ‘Was Governor Shepard aware of the fact that you and Mr. Sook were very dear friends?’

‘It wasn’t exactly a secret,’ said Anna. ‘I was at the den most days, and it’s the only den in Kaniere. I’d say that almost everyone knew.’

‘Your visits earned you a nickname, did they not?’

‘Yes,’ said Anna. ‘Everyone called me “Chinaman’s Ann”.’

‘Thank you, Miss Wetherell,’ Moody said. ‘That will be all.’ He bowed to the justice, who was scanning the transcript from the Sydney Herald, and sat down.

Broham, to whom this insinuation had come as a very unexpected surprise, petitioned to re-examine Anna on the subject that had just been raised by the defence. Justice Kemp, however, declined his request.

‘We are here this morning to consider three charges,’ he said, placing the account of Ah Sook’s acquittal carefully to the side, and folding his hands, ‘one of forgery, one of drunk and disorderly behaviour, and one of assault. I have made note of the fact that Miss Wetherell’s association with Mr. Sook was of a personal significance to the plaintiff; but I do not judge that these new developments warrant a re-examination. After all, we are not here to consider the plaintiff’s motivations, but Miss Wetherell’s.’

Broham looked very put out; Moody, catching Anna’s eye, gave her a very small smile, which she returned in kind. This was a victory.

The first witness to be called was Joseph Pritchard, who, interrograted by Broham, echoed Anna’s account of what had happened on the 27th of January in the Gridiron Hotel: the first bullet had vanished upon the event of the misfire, and the second had been fired into Anna’s pillow by Aubert Gascoigne, as an experiment.

‘Mr. Pritchard,’ said Moody, when he was invited to cross-examine. ‘What was your purpose in seeking an audience with Miss Wetherell on the afternoon of the twenty-seventh of January?’

‘I figured that there was another story behind her attempted suicide,’ said Pritchard. ‘I thought that perhaps her store of opium might have been poisoned, or cut with something else, and I wanted to examine it.’

‘Did you examine Miss Wetherell’s supply, as you intended?’

‘Yes.’

‘What did you discover?’

‘I could tell by looking at her pipe that someone had used it very recently,’ Pritchard said. ‘But whoever that was, it wasn’t her. She was as sober as a nun that afternoon. I could see it in her eyes: she hadn’t touched the drug in days. Maybe even since her overdose.’

‘What about the opium itself? Did you examine her supply?’

‘I couldn’t find it,’ Pritchard said. ‘I turned over her whole drawer, looking for it—but the lump was gone.’

Moody raised his eyebrows. ‘The lump was gone?’

‘Yes,’ said Pritchard.

‘Thank you, Mr. Pritchard,’ said Moody. ‘That will be all.’

Harrington was bent over his ledger, writing furiously. Now he ripped out the page upon which he had been scribbling, and thrust it down the bench for the other men to read. Broham, Moody saw, was no longer smirking.

‘Call the next witness,’ said the justice, who was writing also.

The next witness was Aubert Gascoigne, whose testimony confirmed that the misfire had occurred, the bullet had vanished, and that the second shot had been fired, without incident, into the headboard of Anna’s bed. Questioned by Broham, he admitted that he had not suspected that Emery Staines might have been present in the

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