Author's note: All usual disclaimers apply.

Firstly I wrote this story to amuse myself and one or two others. It does take our favourite characters out of their comfort zones and give me the opportunity to speculate how they might react, hopefully while remaining true to character. I will say upfront that I have, somewhat deliberately, over-emphasised the behaviour and language of some of the new characters but they are actually all based on real people.

Due to life commitments I no longer have the time to write as furiously as I have in the past, so I intend to do a Dickens here and post chapters at regular, predictable intervals. You will receive a chapter every Monday and Thursday over the next few weeks. (Hint - Please do not pressure me to write or post faster.)

As always I hope you enjoy my ramblings and look forward to seeing your reviews.

The house looked like any other in that street. In fact street after street in Sheffield had uniformly dull brown brick terrace houses that faced each other in endless rows across narrow roads where most people where scared to drive let alone walk on. Sometimes the doors were different colours or the occupants had chosen something other than white net curtains and holland blinds to hide their secrets but they were all variations on the same theme - poverty.

"Detective Sergeant Havers," Barbara said as she flashed her ID card to the local constable on the door. The stench of the corpse had permeated the house and as she pulled on her blue rubber gloves and adjusted the hood of her white forensic overalls around her ears she tried to adjust her nose to the smell. "Where's the DI?"

"DI Smith Sergeant? He's back at the station with the boy. There's some posh bloke upstairs though."

Barbara smiled to herself. It seemed Lynley was already here. "Thanks Constable."

The smell intensified as she climbed the stairs. She could hear Tommy asking questions. It would be good to see him again. Even though he had only been on leave a week she had missed him much more than she would ever admit. "Morning Sir," she said at the top of the stairs.

Lynley turned and rewarded her with a broad smile that made her knees go weak. "Sergeant Havers! At last. We have a Caucasian female aged about thirty-five who appears to have been dead several days. Her nine year old son was here with her. He's been taken away for medical tests and forensics. He won't, or can't, speak. It appears to be a single gunshot wound to the abdomen. She bled out so it would most likely have been a slow and painful death."

Barbara looked at the bloated body. The gases had caused the skin to split in several places and the body had started to turn black. Maggots infested several of the wounds. Experience told her the woman had been dead at least four days. "Domestic?"

"Unlikely, her husband has been in Australia of all places. DI Smith contacted the authorities over there this morning. They will inform him. Hopefully he will be able to fly over to be with the boy within a few days."

"Poor kid."

"Indeed. Anyway, have a look around and see if there's anything I've missed."

They spent another half hour examining the house. There was nothing obvious that gave a clue to the motive or the murderer so they agreed to head back to the local station. "Did you bring your car?" Tommy asked.

"Nah, caught the train up and a taxi. My backpack is downstairs. No point in having two cars and I knew you'd driven straight up from Howenstowe."

"Yes, I thought it would save time. Put your bag in my boot and we'll see what the lad has to say."

As Tommy drove Barbara navigated which left little time for conversation. "How's your mother?"

"Better. You wouldn't think she would fall off her horse at her age but she was riding too fast. The ankle will take about six weeks to heal. She hates being on crutches but Judith will keep her in order. I wish you had come down with me."

Barbara felt her face blush. "Family business. You didn't need a stranger hanging around upsetting the routine."

Tommy sighed. He could never understand why she tried do hard to keep her distance. "You're hardly a stranger and I would have liked to have had you there. We both need a bit of a break after the last few months. Anyway we have this case to focus on now."

She had to agree that a break would be welcome. In the nine months since he had been back at work they had been presented with cases that gave her little hope for humanity. "We take one off the streets and more pop up. We're never going to stop people hurting each other are we?"

Tommy glanced across at his sergeant. She looked tired and a little battle-worn. "Our work makes a difference Barbara. We get justice for those that can't get it for themselves. That's important, to their families and society."

"Yeah, I know. Sorry, I'm just tired and I keep thinking of the boy sitting with his dead mother."

"The doors and windows were all bolted shut. He's small for his age so I doubt he could reach the top bolt after the killer probably slammed it shut as they left."

"He."

"We can't be sure."

"Would a woman leave a small boy alone with his dying mother? I doubt it unless she was a real piece of work."

"Still, we cannot assume anything." Tommy agreed but did not want to overlook any possible leads.

"No Sir." He was right, as always, but she knew in her heart she was too. This crime was not something a woman would do.

When they reached the station the boy was sitting with a social worker in the interview room staring at the wall. He had been processed by the forensic scientist and was dressed only in a small pair of ill-fitting navy shorts and a grey jumper that the social worker had brought in. When Tommy and Barbara entered the room he looked lonely and afraid. Big dark blue eyes peeped out cautiously from under a mop of knotty, sandy hair. His skin was pale and freckly but he had long, fine features with a sharp nose and thin, patrician lips. Barbara had no doubt he would grow up into a stunning looking man. "Do we know his name?"

The social worker looked up from her notes and snorted dismissively. "According to our records he is Rufus Aloysius Woods, aged nine, attends Sheffield School for Gifted Children on a scholarship and is currently studying for his O levels. He won't speak to anyone but often with precocious children they think they are above us mere mortals."

Barbara glared at her and quickly summed her up. She was middle-aged, overweight and clearly jaded. Her grey lanky hair hung in strands that reminded Barbara of a knotty rope. Her full skirt with a dull purple flowery pattern was at odds with her greenish shirt with a small tear in the sleeve. She looked as if she could not care for herself let alone a traumatised boy. "Can we speak outside please?" she asked the woman.

They all stepped outside the room. "I don't care if he's got a Ph.D from Oxford, he's still a child who's been imprisoned with the corpse of his mother for four days. I doubt he has even thought about whether or not he looks down on you. He might be smart but he's just lost his mother. I think some compassion might be helpful here."

"Sergeant Havers is right," Tommy said, "this boy needs our help. That doesn't change simply because he's smarter than average."

"Suit yourselves but he's ungrateful and won't speak to me," the woman replied curtly, "and don't try the line that you once knew a bear called Rufus."

Tommy and Barbara watched her lope down the corridor towards the coffee machine. "And they put her in charge of children! Come on Barbara I think we can do a bit better."

Tommy and Barbara entered the interview room. This was not official but they did need to talk to him and keep him away from prying eyes. He looked up expectantly but then looked away. "Rufus, I'm Detective Inspector Lynley and this is Detective Sergeant Havers. We need to talk to you about the last few days."

Barbara looked at her partner and rolled her eyes. So much for compassion. He had spoken softly and kindly but was too formal for a nine year old, even one that was probably smarter than her. "It's okay Rufus. I can call you Rufus can't I?"

The boy nodded. "Mum calls me Roo. I'm her little kangaroo. You can call me that if you like."

"Well Roo, you can call me Barbara and this is Tommy. Okay?"

The boy nodded again. "Okay."

Tommy was surprised that the boy had such a strong Australian twang after three years in Sheffield. "We are trying to contact your Dad and get him over here as soon as possible."

"No!" Rufus looked instantly terrified. Barbara looked at him then the partners shot meaningful glances at each other.

"It's okay. You don't have to see him," Barbara reassured the child, "do you have any other relatives or a friend you would like us to call?"

The boy shook his head. He was clearly on the verge of tears and when Tommy stepped towards him to comfort him he cowered in fear. "It's okay Roo, no one here will hurt you. Tommy is a good man, you can trust him," Barbara said as she put her arm around the boy.

The boy eyed him suspiciously. "Mum says all men are bastards."

Barbara saw the shock on her boss's face and almost laughed. "Many are but Tommy's not one if them. Can we get you anything? A drink or something to eat?"

"Could I have a choccy milk please? The witch gave me a coke but I don't drink it. Only milk 'n' water."

Tommy nodded to Barbara. The boy was scared but he knew Barbara had a way with children. It was clear that Rufus trusted her and would not tell them much with him in the room. "I'll get it."

As he left he smiled at the way she had referred to him as Tommy. It would be wonderful if she could actually call him that more often. He dropped a pound coin in the vending machine and retrieved a container of milk. He returned to the room to find Barbara chatting about school. "Here you go Rufus. I'll just wait in the next room while you talk to Barbara."

Havers understood that Tommy would listen and observe through the mirrored glass wall. Rufus had also understood. "He's not very good at hidin' things is he?" he said disdainfully, "as if I don't know he's behind there listenin'."

"We just want to find the man responsible for your Mum's accident," Barbara said gently.

"It wasn't an accident...I think Dad shot her," Rufus blurted out.

Barbara had not expected that accusation but showed no surprise. "What makes you say that Roo?"

"The man in the hood...he was an Aussie. He and Mum were shoutin' at each other about sendin' me back to The Gong then I heard the bang and he ran out the front door. He locked it somehow. I couldn't get out and he took Mum's phone."

"And it was your Dad's voice?"

"I dunno. I'm not allowed to talk to him and I can't remember what he sounds like. Mum said he was a right bastard. She came over here to get away from him. I remember he used bash her up something fierce."

"Where's The Gong Roo?" Barbara asked.

"Dunno, where we come from I guess. Somewhere near Sydney. That's all Mum ever called it."

"Did the man hit your Mum?" Barbara asked softly.

"No the prick shot her!"

Behind the glass Tommy recoiled. He was shocked at the language from an obviously intelligent child. Barbara appeared unfazed and continued to question the boy. "Did you see him shoot her?"

"No, Mum made me hide in the vent but I could hear them shouting. I hid while he searched the house but I saw him run out of the door."

"Can you describe him? What was he wearing?"

"He was big, like Tommy but not as fat. He had on black Nike joggers, the ones from last year with the yellow and pink trim and black jeans."

"What about his shirt?"

"Dark but not as black as his jeans. It was long sleeved. He had a hood on but it was a different colour and had slits here like bank robbers." The boy pointed to his eyes.

"You're very observant Rufus."

"I have a photographic memory," the boy replied matter-of-factly. "Mum says it's a curse." With that he started to cry.

Barbara felt sorry for the boy. "Well I think it would be very handy. I'd forget my head if it wasn't screwed on."

"No you wouldn't. I can see you thinking. You're smarter than you believe."

This time Tommy saw the shock on his partner's face. Rufus was a very perceptive child and Tommy wondered if he might know more than he was letting on. He decided to re-enter the room. "Hi Rufus, just me again. I was wondering which vent you hid in."

"The one in the hall. I pull the grate off and pull it back in then I can stand inside on two blocks Mum put in there for me to stand on so no one can see me."

Tommy frowned over his head at Barbara. "Do you hide there often?"

"Yeah, Mum was always scared Dad would turn up. I used to hide every time someone we didn't know came to the house."

"I see. Thanks Rufus. I think it's time we got you something to eat don't you?"

Barbara reluctantly handed Roo over to the social worker with a promise that she would see him tomorrow. She noticed that his demeanor instantly changed and he retreated back into himself. "I'm worried about him," she declared as she slumped into the chair in the room they had be allocated to use as their base.

"He'll be fine. They'll find a foster home quickly and he still has his father, if we can rule him out of the murder."

"He's unusual for his age. I'm not sure everyone would cope with him."

Tommy squeezed her shoulder as he passed to sit in the other rigid office chair. "The best way we can help is finding the murderer." He flicked on his computer and entered a few keystrokes while Barbara sat frowning at the wall.

"I wonder if there was more to it than domestic violence. It sounds as if his mother was hiding him. Do you think he knows something or has seen something that someone might be willing to kill to get?"

"Or to prevent it getting out? Yes, it's a distinct possibility. Seems The Gong is the nickname of Wollongong, a city about 50 miles south of Sydney. Looks like an industrial town with a steelworks, coal mines and a port. It claims to have the most diverse, multicultural population in Australia."

"Sounds grim. No wonder his mother wanted to escape."

"Your perceptions might not be reality Barbara. It seems to have beaches and some dramatic coastal scenery. See look."

Barbara stood close to him as she looked over his shoulder. She was careful not to touch him but she could feel the heat coming off his back warming her stomach. She had a phrase for times like that - exquisite torture. She looked as long as she dared, watching his head and shoulders more than the screen. She moved back and flopped into the chair. "Hmm, still not a place on my travel bucket list. Anyway, Australia's too far from anything and everything there wants to kill you."

He wanted to chastise her for her snap judgements and biases but Tommy had to agree it was a long way so he simply shook his head and laughed. "You'll never change will you?"

"Is that a question or a request," she replied cheekily.

He was about to reply when the constable Barbara had seen in the morning knocked on the door. His is face was so pale Barbara knew instantly something terrible had happened.

"What is it Constable?" Tommy asked.

"Sorry to interrupt Sir but someone just kidnapped Rufus Woods."