The Luminaries

thinking.’
    ‘Read it out loud.’
    She did, fluently.
    Devlin was frowning. ‘Are you quite sure that you have never seen this document before?’
    ‘Quite sure,’ Anna said.
    ‘Did you know already that Mr. Staines intended to give you two thousand pounds?’
    ‘No,’ she said.
    ‘What about Mr. Wells? Did you ever speak with Mr. Wells about it?’
    ‘No,’ she said. ‘I’m telling you: it’s the first I’ve seen of it.’
    ‘Perhaps,’ Devlin said, ‘if you had been told about it—but you had forgotten …’
    ‘I wouldn’t forget a dirty great fortune,’ said Anna.
    Devlin paused, watching her. Then he said, ‘One hears stories of children with Continental nannies, waking up one day, and speaking fluent Dutch, or French, or German, or whatever it is—’
    ‘I never had a nanny.’
    ‘—but I have never heard of a person suddenly acquiring the ability to read,’ he finished. ‘That is most peculiar.’
    There was a sceptical accent in his voice.
    ‘I never had a nanny,’ Anna said again.
    Devlin sat forward. ‘Miss Wetherell,’ he said, ‘your name isassociated with a great many unsolved crimes, including a possible murder, and I am sure that I do not need to impress upon you the gravity of a Supreme Court trial. Let us talk frankly—and in confidence .’ He pointed at the deed in Anna’s hand. ‘This bequest was written three months before Mr. Staines disappeared. It represents exactly half of the Wells inheritance. Mr. Wells died the very day that Mr. Staines vanished, and on the morning after his death I found this paper in the stove. The events are clearly related, and a lawyer will be able to join the dots, even if I cannot. If you are in a difficult position, I may be able to help you; but I cannot help you if you do not trust me. I am asking you to take me into your confidence , and tell me what you know.’
    Anna was frowning. ‘This paper doesn’t have anything to do with the Wells inheritance,’ she said. ‘This is about Emery’s money, not Crosbie’s.’
    ‘You are right; but it is doubtful that the gold discovered in Mr. Wells’s cottage ever belonged to Mr. Wells,’ Devlin said. ‘You see, the ore was not discovered pure: it had been smelted by a goldsmith , and pressed into a kind of bullion. The smelting bears a signature, and by this signature the bank has been able to trace the gold back to a goldmine belonging to Mr. Staines. The Aurora.’
    ‘The what?’ said Anna.
    ‘The Aurora,’ Devlin said. ‘That’s the name of the goldmine.’
    ‘Oh,’ she said. She was clearly confused; feeling pity for her, Devlin explained it all again, more slowly. This time she understood . ‘So the fortune was Emery’s, all along?’
    ‘Perhaps,’ said Devlin, cautiously.
    ‘And he meant to give exactly half of it to me!’
    ‘This document certainly seems to imply that Mr. Staines meant to give you two thousand pounds—and that Mr. Wells, as of the night of the eleventh of October, knew about this intention, and possibly even endorsed it. But as I have already told you, the document is not valid: Mr. Staines never signed.’
    ‘What if he did sign it?’
    ‘Until Mr. Staines is found,’ Devlin said, ‘I’m afraid there’s nothing to be done.’ He watched her for a moment, and then said, ‘Ithas taken me a very long time to bring this document to your attention , Miss Wetherell, and for that I ask your forgiveness. The reason is simply that I have been waiting for a chance to speak with you alone; as you know, those chances have been very hard to come by.’
    ‘Who knows about this?’ she said suddenly. ‘Besides you and me.’
    Devlin hesitated. ‘Governor Shepard,’ he said, deciding to tell the truth, but not the whole truth. ‘I spoke with him about the matter perhaps a month ago.’
    ‘What did he say?’
    ‘He imagined that it must have been a joke of some kind.’
    ‘A joke?’ She looked crestfallen. ‘What kind of a joke?’
    Devlin reached forward to take her hand, crushing her fingers slightly in his sympathy. ‘Don’t be disappointed, my dear. It is the poor in spirit who are blessed, and every one of us awaits a much greater inheritance than any that can be gifted in gold.’
    There came a shrill piping from the kitchen, and a hiss as the hot water spouted onto the cast-iron plate.
    ‘There’s our kettle,’ said Devlin, smiling at her.
    ‘Reverend,’ Anna said, withdrawing her hand from his grip, ‘would you mind