"Come back to bed."

"I can't, Tommy. We have to meet your brother in twenty minutes." Barbara tossed a towel at her lover. "Shower, now."

"Yes, ma'am," he replied, chuckling at her insistence on punctuality. "At least tell me you would if we had time."

Barbara walked over and gave him a deep kiss that surprised and delighted him. "Satisfied?"

He grabbed her hips and tried to pull her down. "No. I could ring Peter and tell him something has come up."

"Wicked man. No, now get up. I have questions for Peter, and we have to formulate a plan for tomorrow. We do have people potentially wanting to kill us, remember?"

"Ah, Yes. There is that." Tommy let her go and threw back the sheet. He smiled as he watched Barbara's eyes run over his naked body.


Peter was waiting in the lounge. "How was the memorial service?"

"Fitting," Tommy replied cryptically.

Peter nodded. "Right. Where would you like to eat?"

"I have a recommendation for a restaurant off the tourist beat if you are interested," Barbara said. Matthew had told her about a restaurant in the suburbs that she thought might intrigue the Lynleys. "We'd need a cab though."

The Lynley men, both dressed almost identically in fawn slacks, white open-necked shirts and blue jackets simultaneously swept their arms towards the door indicating she should exit. Barbara laughed when they both glared at each other before the looks softened into wry grins. They were more alike than either cared to admit.

The drive took about twenty minutes during which time the conversation had centred on Singaporean food and England's dismal performance in the Ashes. Barbara had let the boys prattle on and focussed on what their next move should be. The memorial service had been helpful, but not overly enlightening in providing a lead. Now they had to figure out a way to locate that container.

The driver turned off the main road and wound through a series of narrow backstreets. Named after English towns, they undulated over a series of small hills and gullies. Behind lush green foliage, impressive colonial two-storey houses sat proudly, almost defiantly, on generous blocks of land. Although each house was different, they were all stark white with black trim around the multi-panel windows and doors, and faded red terracotta roofs pock-marked with lichen. It was as if time had stood still. Barbara could imagine men dressed in cream linen suits with their giggling women in long white dresses sitting on the large verandahs sipping G&Ts and playing croquet on the verdant lawn.

"Barbara?"

"Sorry?"

Tommy smiled. "I asked if you were sure we are going in the right direction," Tommy said impatiently.

"Yes." She was less confident than she tried to sound.

"Just up here lah," the driver reassured them.

A minute later he pulled into the gravel driveway of one of the houses. The only clue it was a restaurant was the small car park on the left and a discrete red sign on the pillar near the entrance.

Barbara stepped from the car and stared up at the house. Despite her dislike of many aspects of Britain's colonial past, she had to admit they had lived in style. A hostess escorted the trio through the house past rooms filled with laughter and the distinctive clatter of cutlery on fine China. Fragrant, spicy aromas wafted by, making her mouth water.

At the rear, the backyard had been transformed into a series of private dining areas separated by dark classical Chinese teak screens with geometric patterns of interlocking rectangles. The hostess led them to a wooden pavilion overhung by an enormous white frangipani. The table sat on a slatted wooden floor. Barbara looked between the cracks and could see koi swimming over the small lights in the artificial creek bed. The hostess undid soft white curtains that were tied to the pavilion posts and let the ones at the rear and sides swirl in the gentle breeze. The scent of the frangipani was stronger under the roof and seemed to intensify as the light turned to a short dusk.

Peter openly stared at four men dressed only in dark trousers and brightly coloured silk sashes who were lighting waist high torches in between the pavilions. A soft, yellowy glow filtered through the curtains. "If the food is as good as the ambience then we are in for a treat. I never expected to see bare-chested waiters."

"Matthew said it was an experience."

Just as Tommy went to speak, four lights illuminated a dark area of the yard. Barbara saw that all the pavilions which had seemed at first to be randomly spaced for optimum privacy, in fact, all faced the stage. The four men danced into the space. She expected them to start singing, so jumped when a cleverly choreographed acrobatic display began. Ten minutes later the crowd clapped enthusiastically. The lights on the stage went black, and the privacy of each pavilion was restored.

"What a fascinating restaurant," Tommy exclaimed, "much better than dining in the hotel." Under the table, he gently squeezed Barbara's thigh.

She smiled. As she had hoped, Tommy and Peter seemed relaxed and happy. She had been worried that the tension between the brothers might have been too much in the more conservative atmosphere of the hotel restaurant.

Barbara looked at the menu. It was complicated, and she had no idea what half the food was, let alone whether she would like it. She glanced at Tommy. He smiled. "How does everyone feel about the five-course banquet?"

Peter looked up. "Excellent choice. Barbara?"

"I don't know much about Asian food beyond satay and sweet and sour at the local takeaway."

Tommy squeezed her thigh again, this time a little bit higher. "If you prefer to choose your meal..."

"No. This is an adventure. I'm game."

Tommy signalled the waitress who was standing almost unseen outside the pavilion. Dressed in a peacock blue silk cheongsam, flat sandals and her raven hair tied in a bun and held in place by what seemed to Barbara to be a spare chopstick, the waitress was the epitome of a Chinese woman. She bowed to each of them before taking Tommy's order. He also selected a bottle of wine to accompany the meal and ordered three beers. Barbara was amazed when the waitress went to a low cupboard in the corner and returned with chilled glasses and three large bottles of Tiger.

After pouring the drinks, the waitress discretely left. They raised their glasses. "To a wonderful meal and to your wonderful woman," Peter said beaming a smile reminiscent of Tommy's.

"To the meal and yes, my wonderful future wife."

Barbara felt her face flush. "Cheers," she mumbled, not wanting to toast herself.

"That was exquisite," Tommy said after they had finished their first course of Peking Duck.

"Yeah, it was nice," Barbara agreed, somewhat glad that she had been able to assemble and eat the dish successfully. When the chef had arrived and sliced the duck in front of them, carefully arranging each piece on a plate, she had wondered what was happening. The waitress laid out plates of spring onions, cucumber, little pancakes and sauce, and Barbara had quietly cursed Tommy for choosing a meal that might embarrass her. Peter was family, well almost, but she did not want to confirm any suspicions he might have that she was unsuitable to be Tommy's partner. She only hoped the next courses would be simpler.

"The food certainly matches the ambience," Peter said, "I must congratulate you, Barbara, on your choice of restaurant.

Barbara smiled and nodded but did not answer. Tommy's hand had found its way to her knee again, and she received another loving squeeze.

"So how did you spend your day, Peter?"

"I met up with Tim for lunch. He wanted to introduce me to Mr Tan, the man I'm accompanying to China."

Tommy's hand gripped Barbara's knee painfully. She reached down and put her hand over his, stroking it softly until he relaxed. He looked across and silently apologised.

She heard Tommy take a deep breath. "Peter, I know you'll say it's none of my business, but are you sure you want to do this?"

Peter ignored him and continued his story. "He seems harmless enough, but he's shrewd. He has to be to manage his company."

Barbara tried to reduce the tension that hung in the air like the fetid midday humidity. "What does he do?"

"Excuse me," the waitress said as she stood a few feet from the pavilion. "Next course, Double-boiled Sea Whelk Soup with sea cucumber, chicken and wild mushrooms."

The waitress placed a white soup tureen on the table then quickly laid a small bowl and Chinese spoon in front of each of them. With great reverence, she removed the lid, wafted the sweet aroma over the guests then ladled out the soup holding the bamboo spoon high and letting the golden liquid fall over two feet into the bowls.

When she had gone, Peter replied, "he mainly gambles I suspect based on what they say he bets at the casino. Apparently, he heads an international shipping company called Black Dragon."

The detectives both looked up. "Black Dragon?"

"Yes, they specialise in containerised liquids, chemicals and refrigerated cargo." Peter sipped his soup. "This is good too."

Tommy and Barbara exchanged worried glances. "I still don't understand why you're doing this. I'll happily pay you the same money just to go straight back to England."

"Thank you, Tommy, but no."

"Don't be so stubborn, Peter."

"It's a family trait."

"Rubbish. Father wasn't a stubborn man."

"What would you know Tommy? You were only a teenager when he died."

"And you were seven!" Tommy spat back. Barbara took Tommy's hand. He looked at her but ignored her pleas to stay calm. "I knew him ten years longer than you."

"You're obsessed by your idealisation of who he was. Yes, he was a good father. As a husband he had failings. You blame Mother for everything but let's not forget Father invited his lover into our house to nurse him while he was ill. How do you think that made Mother feel?"

"Mrs Blake? No! You're wrong, Peter. Who poisoned your mind with this? Mother? Trenarrow trying to ingratiate himself? It's not true."

Barbara could see the pain in the eyes of both brothers. She was not sure what had happened in the past between Tommy and his mother except that her love for the doctor Barbara had met at his engagement party played a significant role. "This is not the conversation for dinner."

Peter turned to her and bowed his head slightly. "Maybe not, and I apologise, Barbara, but Tommy has to know the truth."

Tommy took a mouthful of soup. When he looked up, his eyes nearly broke Barbara's heart. She had only seen that pain once before after Helen was shot. "It's not the truth." His voice was low, firm, and final.

Peter sighed then stood. "I'm sorry, Barbara. I had hoped we might be able to reconnect but my brother... I understand that you have to support him. Thank you for a nice meal, but I should go."

"No! Neither of you are going anywhere." The brothers looked at her. "I mean it. I never knew your father, and I don't care where your family stubbornness comes from, but the Havers line can out-stubborn you every time. It's obvious that you both want to repair your relationship. The only way you can do that is by listening to each other and discussing things calmly. You may not agree, but you can at least try to understand the other's point of view. I know from bitter experience that what happens between parents can deeply affect the children, but neither of you should be angry at the other for what they did. Be angry at them, but you only get one brother! And when he's gone..." Barbara sniffed back a sob.

Tommy put his arm around her shoulders and kissed her hair. "I'm sorry. Stay please, Peter."

Peter sat back down. "I'm sorry too, Barbara. I should never have brought it up."

Barbara nodded. They finished their soup in silence.

The waitress reappeared and removed their bowls replacing them with plates. She placed a small platter in the centre between them. "Braised whole Australian abalone with Chinese mushrooms, vegetables and oyster sauce."

"Does Aqueous mean anything to you?" Peter asked after they had been eating in silence for a minute or so.

The couple looked at each other and frowned. "No, I don't think so. Barbara?"

"No. Why?"

"I have one advantage in my role that Tim is unaware of."

Tommy frowned sceptically. "Such as?"

"I speak basic Cantonese. I understand most of what they say."

Tommy stared at his brother. "Where did you learn to speak Cantonese?"

The conversation paused as the waitress returned to collect the plates and present the next course. "Steamed whole fish, bean curd, tomatoes and salted vegetables."

"My roommate at Eton was from Hong Kong. He taught me."

"So what have they said about us?" Barbara asked.

"That you might be here to look for Aqueous and might endanger their plans." Peter grinned at the shock on his older brother's face.

"Me?"

"Yes, you were mentioned by name. Tim and Mr Tan see me as a tolerable necessity to keep you under control. I think they intend to kill me, or at least threaten it if you interfere."

Tommy threw his chopsticks onto his plate. "That does it. I forbid you to go anywhere but the airport. I'm flying you out of danger tonight if we can get a seat." Tommy started to fish in his pocket from his phone.

"No, you won't. I'm not seven anymore, Tommy. Besides, that would confirm it and endanger all of us. For you to have come out here, it must be important. I want to help you, but first I need to know what is going on."