Original subtitles

If two people were to be born at the exact same instant

and very near to one another,

they would become what's known as astral twins.

They would share a destiny.

They weren't just after my money.

They were after my name.

Who are you?

How about you call me Mr.Wells?

What? This is blackmail.

You're blackmailing me. I am.

So we were born in the very same instant.

Under the very same sky.

Drink. Or what?

Or I blow your brains out.

Hey!

You were talking in your sleep.

What did I say? I don't know.

It was Cantonese.

There. Forgery?

It's his signature. It's not forgery.

Gentlemen, I 'am a man of reason.

I do not believe in magic.

Beg pardon, sir. I gave you the wrong one.

Oh, good.

Yes, there was a mistake.

This is isn't my trunk.

I was just making sure.

Alistair Lauderback made some very serious allegations

against you last night.

Men are so different until they're disappointed.

Then they're all the same.

This business with the ship.

It was between Crosbie and Alistair...

nothing to do with me.

I don't want any mention of it.

Not now, not in court,

not at any time until that girl is hanging by her neck.

You understand me? Perfectly.

What's this? Evidence of forgery,

as attested by a man of God.

Any idea what she's playing at?

None.

You will wait until your trial.

I can bail.

You know I have the money.

The gold from my dress.

You've been charged with murder, Miss Wetherell.

You cannot bail.

Emery's alive.

He needs help.

Please.

You killed him.

You killed them both. First Wells, and then Staines.

No, you don't understand.

I shot myself and then... You forged his signature.

No. It wasn't forgery. I can't explain it.

You think we do not talk? The whole town knows about it.

I just need to find him. Please.

Here is my advice...

plead lunacy.

What?

You have changed your story.

First you say you killed him; now you say he is alive.

First you sign his name; now you say there is no forgery.

You are guilty.

Lunacy is the only chance you have.

But I'm not a lunatic.

What's all this?

Do you know, something utterly extraordinary

is just about to happen?

It has occurred just once before in our lifetimes.

The moon will be full just before the 1st of February

and then again just after the 28th.

A month without a moon.

What are you doing, Lydia?

I'm going to host a seance to make contact with Emery Staines.

What?

He went missing the night Crosbie died.

No one's seen him since.

What, and you're going to find him?

No.

I'm going to put myself into a trance, speak in his voice

and then accuse her of murder.

You were right.

Way back at the beginning, you said get rid of her,

and I said no.

You were right. Lydia.

She's playing us, Francis, and I do not get played!

Lydia.

I want her dead.

Lydia, please, you'll get what you want.

Let the trial play out.

We're on a knife edge.

One false step, and it's not that girl on the gallows.

It's you and me.

We don't wish to take up too much of your valuable time,

Mr.Justice. You have our evidence already.

Here are the names of the witnesses we wish to call.

We also recommend,

given the nature of the defendant's profession,

that the jury be culled where possible

from adjacent goldfields.

She's a prostitute, Mr.Justice,

and to put it mildly, very well known.

I'm not whoring any more. A former prostitute.

Excuse me.

You are, of course, permitted to be tried by judge alone,

if you feel a jury will be prejudicial.

Do you have any witnesses?

Anyone you might wish to call?

Yes. Mr.Emery Staines.

Mr.Justice, this is a stalling tactic.

Mr.Staines is missing and presumed to be dead.

He's not dead. He has not been seen

since the night of Mr.Wells' demise, Mr.Justice.

You'll find this is all of a piece.

Is there anybody else? Anyone who saw you that night

who could vouch for you?

The man who found me.

The Right Honorable Mr.Alistair Lauderback?

Maybe he saw something.

Mr.Lauderback...

for the defense.

To Mr.Alistair Lauderback,

Provincial Council, Canterbury.

March 1864.

Sir, you do not know me, but I am your brother.

Your father sired a bastard by a prostitute.

I am that bastard.

I was raised in Yorkshire,

taking the surname of my parish priest.

I have not suffered.

But I desired always to learn my father's name,

to look upon his shape and hear his voice.

Recently, my prayers were answered

with a letter from the man himself.

He had always known of me, he wrote.

He enclosed me £20 and asked for my forgiveness.

I resolved to seek him out.

But then I made a blunder,

seeing in the shipping news that Alistair Lauderback

was departing for the colonies next tide.

I believed it was my father.

I did not know he had another son.

I did not think that son might share his name.

I made a plan to follow him.

In due course, I landed in Dunedin

and began to make inquiries as my fortunes would allow.

But when I saw your likeness,

I knew at once that I had erred

and that you were not my father but my brother.

Sir, I never wanted to be in this country.

I never sought this life.

But I have spent our father's £20

and do not now have the means to return home.

I beg you for your charity,

believing you to be a good and Christian man,

and because I will remain, always, your brother,

Croshie Wells.

June 1864.

Sir, two months have passed since I wrote you last.

Sir, I have begged you twice.

And even I, a whore's son, am too proud to beg again.

July 1864.

Sir, my fortunes are much changed.

I am proud to say I write this as a married man.

Mrs.Wells,

as I must call her now, is a fine specimen of her sex

and a woman I shall be very proud to carry on my arm.

I suppose she is your sister now.

August 1864.

Sir, I do not know if my letters reach you,

or in what spirit you read them if they do.

But I believe I have become contented by your silence,

strange as that may sound.

June 1865.

I have made a strike on the gold fields.

I write not as your inferior, but as your equal.

I 'am now a rich man.

Sir, it is a marvel to me in this new world

that one so low born could find himself so elevated.

Perhaps I take after our father in more ways than I knew.

August 1865.

You'll notice from my postmark that I've upped my sticks,

as the saying goes.

Suffice to say I have been betrayed, swindled,

nearly murdered and robbed of any means to prove the crime.

I owe my life not to my own cunning or perseverance,

but to the kind intervention of a girl

I then abandoned to her fate.

I met betrayal with betrayal, and that I must always regret.

I'm sorry I'm your only witness.

However, I honestly don't see how I can help.

Where did you get those?

Who gave you those?

I thought you did.

They are private property. They are stolen property!

I could have you...

A politician and a prostitute.

What do you want?

Why didn't you write back?

He kept writing.

You never replied.

Why?

I was ashamed.

Of my father.

And then, after a while, of myself.

And then I couldn't write.

It had been too long. What would I say?

There was too much to say.

So I thought I'd go and meet him, face to face.

But I was too late.

I never knew she was married.

In his letters, Crosbie never called her anything

but Mrs.Wells. You've read them. You know.

He never used her Christian name,

and with me, she only called herself Miss Greenway.

I never knew what Crosbie looked like.

So when that man Carver told me his name was Crosbie Wells,

I had no reason not to believe him.

He knew the whole story. He mentioned the letters,

my father.

Our father.

It wasn't till Crosbie wrote again,

a few months later, that I realized

I'd been played by an impostor.

If I'd only replied,

if 1.,

Well,

there it is my dirty secret.

It's not dirty.

And it's not just yours.

You don't have to testify.

You're the girl that saved his life.

It didn't matter.

They still killed him.

Keep them.

I know them by heart anyway.

How long have you been up?

I shot him.

That night, when I was leaving, he startled me;

I shot him square in the chest. I thought I'd killed him.

Maybe you missed. I didn't miss.

How is he still alive?

I don't know.

Mr.Mannering.

This should be very interesting.

Yes, indeed.

Mr.Lowenthal.

Move. Move!

Shouldn't you be up the front?

I didn't take the case.

What? Why the hell not?

Her story's indefensible.

The missing bullet?

The cut on her hand?

Losing her memory? It doesn't make sense.

That's why she needs a bloody lawyer!

You talk to her. You'll see.

I can't. I'm a witness. I'm not allowed.

For the prosecution?

Of course for the bloody prosecution. There's no defense!

She's representing herself. It isn't murder; it's suicide.

Quiet, please.

Mr.Carver.

Were you acquainted at all

with the late Mr.Crosbie Wells?

Not well. He married one of my tenants, Lydia Greenway,

now Lydia Wells.

The property in question being 35 Cumberland St, Dunedin,

formerly the Hotel Oriental,

later known as the House of Many Wishes?

That's correct.

Were you aware of the bonanza discovered by Mr.Wells

in the Dunstan Valley in the month of May last year?

I was aware. He had a strongbox delivered. I saw it go in.

Was Miss Anna Wetherell residing at the property

at the time? Yes, she was.

So, to put it crudely,

she knew what Mr.Wells was now worth.

I don't know. I suppose so.

Do you know Miss Wetherell's nickname, Mr.Mannering?

It's...

Chinaman's Ann.

Why?

She has a taste for opium.

She goes to Chinatown to get it.

This fortune,

valued at precisely £4096,

was discovered in Mr.Wells' cottage shortly after he died.

Can you read the engraving, please?

It says Aurora.

Do you know who made this engraving, Mr.Mannering?

I can guess. Please do.

A man named Quee, Johnny Quee.

Pardon me. Quee is that an English name?

He's a Chinaman.

Thank you. No further questions.

Your witness, Miss Wetherell.

I never saw that gold before.

Mr.Justice, Counsel is testifying.

Miss Wetherell, you'll restrict yourself to questions only.

I have no questions for Mr.Mannering.

In your professional opinion, Mr.Pritchard,

what was the cause of the death of Mr.Crosbie Wells?

Excessive consumption of laudanum.

Taken freely, or coerced?

Couldn't say.

Do you recognize this phial, sir?

Yes, it's one of mine.

Have you ever supplied the defendant with such a phial?

I have.

On more than one occasion? Yes.

And laudanum is a tincture of opium, correct?

Yes. Would you go as far as to say

she has a dependence on the drug?

A dependence so severe, in fact,

as to drive her into the arms of Chinamen every day?

What's your question?

Do you believe Miss Anna Wetherell

to be capable of violence? We all are, sir.

We wouldn't be human otherwise.

But a woman suffering from such a desperate compulsion

would surely be more capable than most.

No further questions.

Your witness, Miss Wetherell.

Why isn't she going to cross? What's her plan?

I don't think she has one.

I took Miss Wetherell into my home.

Crosbie tarnished that charity. Miss Wetherell abused it.

You and Mr.Wells were estranged at the time of his death...

is that correct?

It is.

What was the reason for your estrangement?

She was.

A fool could see the way she looked at him, at his money.

She's a whore, after all.

Poor Crosbie was entranced.

Wouldn't hear a word against her.

We had a row, he stormed out,

and I regret to say, I...

I never saw him again.

If it was the only time this had happened,

I would have forgiven him. But you see,

she was simply the last in a very long sequence

of young women...

just like her.

Do you think the defendant killed your husband, Mrs.Wells?

Governor,

I know she did.

Miss Wetherell, do you wish to cross-examine this witness?

Yes, do.

I have here a letter...

addressed to Mr.Lauderback, from Mr.Wells.

It's dated December last year.

Mr.Justice, this is not in evidence.

Go on.

Miss Wetherell?

Could you read it out, please?

The whole thing.

This is entirely unverified, sir.

No, I want to hear it.

Mrs.Wells?

West Canterbury.

December 1865.

Sir, I observe in the West Coast Times

that you mean to make your passage overland and not by sea.

Your route will take you down the length of the Arahura River

and past my house.

I dare to hope that this may provide occasion

for us to meet at last.

I shall describe the dwelling

so that you may approach or stay away as you see fit.

The house is high above the Arahura River

on its southern side.

The dwelling is a small one, fashioned by my own hand.

Perhaps even if you do not stop, I shall see you riding by.

I shall not expect it...

...nor hope for it, but wish you a pleasant journey westward

and a victorious campaign

and remain, with deepest admiration, Crosbie Wells.

Mr.Lauderback is the man who sold Crosbie Wells his ship...

is that right?

The ship known as the Godspeed,

which he bought using the bonanza

he found in the Dunstan Valley last year.

Of course, I can only guess he used the gold to buy the ship,

but how else could he afford it?

Mr.Justice, I fail to see the relevance.

Where is this leading?

It just seems strange.

If Mr.Wells had bought a ship from Mr.Lauderback,

a ship worth thousands and thousands of pounds,

why does he write as though they have never met before?

You said she couldn't read, Lydia.

She can't! What else didn't you know?

Who is it? Letter for Mr.Carver.

I've been summoned as a witness.

For the prosecution? No, for the defense.

What? Ah, she's planning something.

She's got something on us, and she's keeping it back.

Staines? No, she'd have named him

as a witness. It must be something else.

Why does that bloody Maori keep hanging about?

The seance. Lydia, we need something real!

No, you said it yourself.

If she knew where he was, she would've named him as a witness.

He's her alibi.

He's dead, Francis he's either dead, or he's disappeared

and left her to hang. Either way, it's in our favor.

This is where we get her. Forget Croshie.

We frame her for murdering Staines.

Emery?

This bond do you still feel it?

Yes.

He's still alive.

He's just lost.

Tell me what you see.

Three bloody shillings for an evening's entertainment.

You'd think she was calling up Helen of Troy.

Hey, Chinaman!

You blind? There's a queue.

Mr.Mannering, naturally.

But who is this?

Mr.Walter Moody, ma'am.

He's a lawyer. A lawyer, indeed?

And what's your interest here tonight, Mr.Moody? I'm curious.

Then we have something in common, Mrs.Wells.

All of us have aspects of darkness and aspects of light,

a face we show and a face we hide,

something that waxes and something that wanes,

something that rises and something that sets,

the light that's borrowed and the light that burns,

the sun

and the moon,

the spirit and the soul,

the Luminaries.

I ask you now to maintain absolute silence...

and join hands...

as I place myself...

into a trance.

What did she say to him?

Murderer.

Lydia!

Lydia!

He need medicine. No.

Take me to Anna, please.

Anna

You're alive! You're alive.

Astral twins.

You think it's mad.

I think it's wonderful.

So we were born in the very same instant.

Under the very same sky.

Do you believe it?

Yes.

I don't understand it.

I can't explain it, but...

I believe it.

Francis Carver, I'm arresting you

in connection with the unlawful acquisition of the Godspeed.

No, you can't take him.

He's been called as a witness in the trial.

He'll testify don't worry about that.

There has to be an explanation.

What I saw aboard the Godspeed...

it is impossible.

It defies logic.

No one would ever believe it.

So if it's impossible, then you've never met before.

What?

Emery was never on the Godspeed.

I don't understand.

What you saw really was a ghost.

I'll do it. I'll testify.

This is extremely reckless.

We know.

You can't be in there. Get out of there immediately!

Mr.Staines is a key witness.

Miss Wetherell has every right to meet with him

and to conduct those meetings in total privacy.

And who the hell are you?

The lawyer for the defense.

Mr.Staines, how did you first become acquainted

with Miss Anna Wetherell?

We first met on the day of our arrival in New Zealand,

a little under a year ago.

And I'm ashamed to say I treated her rather badly.

You see, I stole her purse. I beg your pardon.

Just to clarify this is the purse that was later discovered

in the home of Mr.Croshie Wells?

The very same. But the laudanum phial was mine.

Thank you. Please go on.

When I picked her pocket, I was witnessed by Mr.Francis Carver.

I thought he'd surely turn me in.

But I suppose, being a smuggler himself,

he saw in me a kind of kindred spirit.

I beg your pardon, Mr.Staines. A smuggler?

He served 10 years on Cockatoo Island on a charge of smuggling.

Under Governor Shepard, I believe.

And Mr.Carver was soon telling me about a man he knew,

Crosbie Wells, who had recently struck it rich on the field.

Mr.Carver had devised a scheme to kill him, steal his bonanza

and assume his name.

You see, Mr.Wells was married, and his wife, Lydia Wells,

had been conducting an affair

with the wealthy politician Alistair Lauderback.

Mr.Carver wanted to use the affair

to blackmail Mr.Lauderback into giving up a ship he owned.

How did the bonanza fit in?

The gold would be concealed in a trunk

that was bound offshore under Mr.Lauderback's name.

If anyone opened it, they'd assume that Mr.Lauderback

had stolen the color himself

and was smuggling it out of the country.

It belonged to the husband of his mistress, after all.

The plan was that Mr.Carver, posing as Mr.Wells,

would use the affair and the trunk as his leverage

in the blackmail for the Godspeed.

It was a proper stitch-up.

Carver and I cut a deal. We agreed I'd go to Hokitika.

I would, in both our names, peg a claim on a tailing pile.

Meanwhile, Carver would carry out the blackmail,

then sail the Godspeed to Hokitika,

take the gold from the trunk and salt it into our claim.

We'd call it legal profit, split the winnings between us

and go our separate ways.

What happened next?

Well, I went off to Hokitika to do as I was bid.

And some days later, the Godspeed arrived,

with the trunk on board but without Mr.Carver.

It wasn't what we'd planned.

I figured the swindle must have gone awry somehow.

Nevertheless, I took the gold from the trunk,

salted it into the claim as we'd agreed,

and waited for Mr.Carver to show up.

But instead, I was reunited with Miss Wetherell.

She had since fallen on hard times. She was with child.

And she asked me for help.

She told me about a plot she'd uncovered back in Dunedin

to kill a man, steal his fortune and take his name.

She'd figured it all out.

Because of her, Mr.Wells had escaped and gone to ground,

and now Mr.Carver was looking for him,

to finish what he'd started

and get revenge for a cut he'd sustained to his face.

Miss Wetherell was afraid that once he arrived

back in Hokitika, he'd try to kill her too.

So she asked me for my protection.

Well,

I was starting to feel more than a little ashamed of myself.

She had no idea that I was in business with Mr.Carver.

But I was too much of a coward

to tell her the truth about the part I'd played.

So I agreed to help.

When Mr.Carver arrived in Hokitika,

I put myself between them. There was a terrible fight.

He flew into a rage, and as a consequence,

the child Miss Wetherell was carrying was lost,

as witnessed by many men here who could testify.

And after that, I couldn't forgive him.

I vowed I wouldn't rest until I'd found Crosbie Wells,

restored his fortune and put everything to rights.

It was then I learned a Chinaman, Mr.Quee,

had been digging my tailing piles...

and found the gold I'd buried there.

He'd smelted it into little squares

and engraved each square with the word 'Aurora',

to signify which claim it issued from.

I didn't want to bank the gold, as I was legally obliged.

If I did, you see, Carver would get his half shares,

and I was determined now he'd never see a penny.

I took it up north,

intending to bury it on Maori land, for safekeeping.

And that's when I encountered Croshie Wells.

I confessed. I told him everything.

At first, he didn't believe the gold was really his.

But I showed him Miss Wetherell's purse,

and he was persuaded.

Wells had his fortune back at last.

But Mr.Carver had stolen his passport and his miner's right.

He had no way of proving his own provenance,

let alone the gold's. But he took it anyway...

and thanked me for my change of heart.

And we parted as friends.

I then went back to Hokitika,

determined to tell Miss Wetherell the truth at last,

but she wouldn't grant me an audience.

She'd since learned that I owned the Aurora

on a joint share with Mr.Carver, and she was very angry with me.

She refused to let me visit her,

so I felt obliged to go to her employer

and purchase her company for the night.

This was on the night of the 14th of January this year?

Yes.

We met at the opera house.

And I told her the whole story.

What did she do? She was very upset.

She wished to go to Mr.Wells at once. She left.

That's the last I saw of her.

What did you do?

I went to Chinatown.

You see, I'm rather ashamed to admit

I have a weakness for opium in all its forms.

I woke up one day. Mr.Sook was gone.

Sol upped and left, intending to return to Hokitika.

I was extremely ill.

It was days...before I was found,

and only then that I discovered that Crosbie Wells was dead.

I can only assume what really--

Mr.Justice, this is conjecture.

It is.

But I'd like to hear it.

I can only assume that Mr.Carver overheard us

at the opera house that night,

learned where Mr.Wells was living

and went at once to poison him.

So when Miss Wetherell turned up, he was already dead.

This is pure speculation, sir! Thank you, Mr.Staines.

I have no further questions.

By your own admission, you were nowhere near

the Arahura Valley on the night that Croshie Wells was killed.

You have no idea who was present or what transpired.

With respect, sir, nor do you.

Nor do any of us, except Mr.Carver.

He's the only one who was there.

All right, that's enough. Carver posed as Wells to buy

the ship. Wells had to die, or the swindle wouldn't work.

It was part of the plan from the beginning.

If you were not there, then you cannot say to a certainty

that Anna Wetherell did not murder Croshie Wells.

She had no reason to.

Again, by your own admission,

you have withheld a great deal of information

from Miss Wetherell over the course of your relationship.

Is it not possible that she has done the same to you?

No, I do not think it possible.

Why not?

Because I trust her.

I'm asking if you think it possible,

not if you think it probable.

I understand the question. My answer is unchanged.

What induced you to trust Miss Wetherell?

I trust her because I love her.

And how did you come to love her?

By trusting her, of course.

Do you recognize this document?

I do. Did you sign it?

I suppose I must have done. On the night it was composed,

I was very drunk. I don't remember everything.

So you don't remember signing it.

Oh, it's my signature. That wasn't my question.

Mr.Justice, where is this leading?

Get to the point, Governor.

I have it on good authority, Mr.Staines,

that the signature on this document was forged

by Anna Wetherell for her own personal gain.

On whose good authority?

Mr.Justice, I call my chaplain,

Mr.Cowell Devlin, to come forward.

I'm afraid you can't do that, sir.

Mr.Devlin is in full co-operation.

Mr.Devlin is a clergyman.

He cannot be compelled to testify against a penitent.

He is not being compelled, and she is not his penitent.

Mr.Devlin testifies of his own free will.

Mr.Devlin?

Mr.Devlin?

She signed this deed before your very eyes.

You gave this to me.

I cannot share what was disclosed to me in confidence.

I will not testify.

How dare you?

If I may, she couldn't have forged it,

even if she wanted to. She's illiterate.

What?

Sir, we direct your attention to an item already in evidence...

the ticket discovered by the prosecution

in Miss Wetherell's purse.

You will observe that she signed with an X.

If the veracity of the deed is still in question,

you will find...

the signature from Mr.Wells matches exactly the signature

on the private correspondence to Mr.Lauderback

already in evidence,

though it does differ significantly from the signature

on the Godspeed's deed of sale.

You may continue with your cross-examination, sir.

No further questions.

Mr.Moody?

The defense calls Mr.Francis Carver.

Place your hand on the Good Book.

Do you, in your testimony today, swear to tell the truth,

the whole truth and nothing but the truth?

To Francis Carver.

May you get the death that you deserve.

Mr.Carver.

Did you, posing as Mr.Crosbie Wells,

and in collusion with Mrs.Lydia Wells,

blackmail Mr.Alistair Lauderback

into relinquishing ownership of his barque Godspeed,

using a fortune stolen from Mr.Wells

and with the intention of taking his life?

You have no proof...

of anything.

It's my word against his.

Please answer the question.

There was no collusion.

Mrs.Wells...

Lydia.

Lydia Wells had nothing to do with it.

The murder was my design,

my execution.

Once a convict, always a convict.

Francis.

No, you can't! No!

No!

No!

Cheerio.

I'm going to find a cure for this pain.

Governor! Governor!

We can't go back.

We can never go back. Every moment only happens once.

You told me that.

Did 1?7

Yes. Then you said it again, so...

We declare the defendant

to be not guilty.

Miss Anna Wetherell is hereby acquitted of all charges.

It remains for the court to consider two matters...

first, the just distribution of these spoils,

and second, the testimony provided so fulsomely

by one witness for the defense.

Mr.John Long Quee.

All men, regardless of their provenance,

deserve reward for work fairly and honestly undertaken.

You may draw down your bonus at the oriental rate

against this sum.

The remainder shall be surrendered

to the Hokitika Town Council to be invested at their pleasure

in the continued enforcement...

of the law.

As for Mr.Emery Staines...

...the crimes to which you have confessed

are numerous and grave.

But the spirit of your confession recommends you,

as does the effort you have made towards reform.

We sentence you...

to one year in prison with hard labor,

reducible to nine months in the event of good behavior.

I'll be out before you know it.

I'll be waiting.

I know you will.

Because I'll be waiting too.

All right, come on.

Let's go.

Hyah!

You know you could have just asked.

You didn't have to steal my purse.

You could have just asked me,

to my face,

if I'd come and work for you.

And I would have said yes.

You probably didn't need an apprentice.

But...

I loved it.

Putting the house in order.

Your little table, with the planets.

How you cast a spell over the crowd.

I loved every part of it.

And if you'd just...

asked me...

I would have stayed.

What are you doing?

Take it.

I don't want it.

Take it!

Miss Wetherell.

Anna!