The Luminaries

his own mind. ‘He’s familiar.’
    ‘He is familiar—to his own circle,’ Shepard said. ‘His loyalty is to Canterbury, and his tunnels and railways—to take your phrase—are the Lyttelton tunnel and the projected railway between Christchurch and Dunedin. As Superintendent he will reapportion whatever funds are not already tied into this tunnel and this railway—as he must, of course, to make good the promises of his campaign.’
    ‘You may be right about the Super,’ Nilssen said, ‘but as an M.P.? He will
represent
Westland—’
    ‘Lauderback is a Westland man in electorate only,’ Shepard said. ‘I do not fault him on it—he has my vote, Mr. Nilssen—but he does not know the digger’s life.’
    Nilssen looked as if he meant to interrupt again, so Shepard pressed on, raising his voice a little. ‘I arrive now at the business that compelled this interview. I have the Commissioner’s endorsement to begin work upon a new gaol-house, away from the Police Camp, on the terrace north of town. You recall it was a company of convicts who first cleared the Hokitika-road? I intend to do the same thing here: I shall use my own convict labour to build the prison at Seaview.’
    This notion appealed to Nilssen’s sense of retribution, and he smiled.
    ‘However, as you have already remarked,’ Shepard continued, ‘Alistair Lauderback’s focus is on transport: in his address to the Council he has argued in favour of using convict labour to build and maintain the Christchurch road. The route over the Alps is still treacherous—unfit for a horseman, much less for a coach.’
    ‘The Superintendent has the final word on the matter?’ Nilssen asked. ‘Are your convicts not yours to employ?’
    ‘Alas,’ Shepard said. ‘They are only mine to keep.’
    The clerk entered, bearing coffee on a wooden tray. He was in a state of considerable excitement, for it was not often that Nilssen had visitors, and never visitors of such enigmatic repute as Pritchard (who was famous for his opium) and Shepard (who was famous for his wife). The clerk had arranged the coffee pot and saucers on the tray with particular attention, and he carried it high with his elbows cocked and his back held very straight. Nilssen nodded approvingly: it was not their custom for the clerk to wait on his employer, but Nilssen was pleased at the effect it must be creating in the mind of his guest. The clerk set the tray upon the sideboard and began to pour. He was hoping that the men would resume their conversation while he was still in the room, and so tried to pour slowly, feeling a pang of regret at the floating grains of chicory that he had added to the coffee grounds for reasons of economy, and now, with their ugly film of grit, seemed to admonish his pretensions.
    Behind him Shepard said, ‘By the bye, Mr. Nilssen: what do you know about Emery Staines?’
    There was a pause. ‘I know that he is missing,’ Nilssen responded.
    ‘Missing, yes,’ said Shepard. ‘He hasn’t been seen for almost a fortnight. Very strange.’
    ‘I do not know him well,’ Nilssen said.
    ‘Don’t you?’ said Shepard.
    ‘He is an acquaintance—but not a friend.’
    ‘Ah.’
    Nilssen seemed about to cough; then he burst out, ‘Are you
quite
finished, Albert?’
    The clerk set down the coffee pot.
    ‘Shall I leave the tray, sir?’
    ‘Yes, yes—then go, for God’s sake,’ Nilssen said. He lurched for the cup as it was handed him, causing a small tide of coffee to slop into the saucer, and set it down before him with a clatter. The clerk brought a second cup to Shepard, who made no move to touch it, and pointed to the desk before him without a word.
    ‘I shall say it plain,’ Shepard said, when the disappointed clerk had shut the door behind him. ‘I mean to begin work on the gaol-house at once, before the elections, so that when Lauderback takes office the work is already well underway. I am aware that this may seem to others as if I seek to actively thwart the success of his campaign . I come to you to solicit both your business and your discretion.’
    ‘What do you need?’ Nilssen said cautiously.
    ‘Materials to build, and perhaps ten or twenty able bodies to begin digging the foundation,’ Shepard said, reaching into his breast for the plans. ‘I can offer you commission at your standard rate. The site has been purchased already, and approved. Here is the architect’s design.’
    ‘This is the original? Or a copy?’ Nilssen