Dear Diary

I had just got in from a night of dancing and merriment and was planning on sleeping until I was called for a case or ... yes, well, I passed Dot the milk – it was a long night and suddenly there he stood – a boy, wanting me to find his brother. He was from Colingwood and offered me a silver candlestick as payment – it was probably stolen.

Jack called while Paddy (the boy) was telling me about his brother and where he lived, he had a body in the morgue, a boy's body and at first we feared it might be his brother, but it wasn't. He identified it as a Badger, a member of the same gang his brother belonged to – the Bottle Top boys.

Of course Paddy wasn't going to talk to Jack, but he would talk to me, so I took him home so I could change before going to Collingwood to try and track down Ned.

Collingwood is the same as when I left it all those years ago, overcrowded, grubby urchins running around, skulking in sheds and alleyways and some of them wouldn't even talk to me. But I did find one of them skulking around, Col Richards the leader of the gang.

It all seemed horribly familiar.

It all seemed to stem from the hospital, one of the doctors was experimenting with skin grafts, particularly on a badly injured mad from the war; poor man, half his face was burned away, and when we questioned him about swapping out morphine for water he got very upset, he used the boys to run errands for him and I'm afraid I gave him the idea we suspected him in the murder of Badger. He attacked me, a nurse, Mary Maddison who ran a welfare van in Collingwood, and Dr Harcourt who was doing the skin grafts. None of us were hurt ... well I sustained a graze to my neck, but poor Mr Woods was arrested.

With another boy's body found, another gang member who died of septicaemia, Col questioned for a stabbing and then Mr Woods found dead of a possible overdose of morphine and Med still missing, my heart sank at the waste of young lives and then the discovery that Mary Maddison was really a wanted murderer from NSW...

The saddest thing was it was Dr Harcourt who killed Ned because he was going to tell the authorities what he was doing, and because he was using the boys for his skin grafts and they didn't take the medication he gave them to prevent infection he was responsible for the other boy's death. When I put it all to Jack and Mac in the morgue it made me angry and sad and hurt – these were children and he thought for a few pennies he could buy them, literally. I knew, as did Jack, that skin used for a graft needs to come from somewhere on the patient's body that is free from injury or infection, but Mr Woods' body was so badly burnt he didn't have any viable skin and all the grafts Harcourt performed on his face, around his eye socket just caused the man immeasurable pain and anguish as it was rejected, added to which he was shunned by everyone because of his looks.

The boys stole valuables, gave them to Maddison who gave them to Woods to pawn – everybody used everybody else it was a circle of viciousness and pain.

Jack and I talked about the thieving and I admitted I had stolen a brooch from a pawn shop when I was a child, a swallow, small and pretty that I told the police my father had hocked for a bottle of beer – knowing my father the police believed me – was I telling the truth? Nobody will ever know, but while looking through some lost property Jack found a pretty swallow brooch and brought it to me, pinning onto my scarf and said if anyone came looking for it he would send them my way – they will have a fight on their hands!

I had no idea that Jack was also trying to help Hugh with his inner demons; he found him sleeping in the cells one morning, and in the car on another – the poor lad has been thrown out by his mother for converting to the Catholic faith for Dot and he didn't tell Dot anything, nor about his trying to get a promotion – Jack told everything, thinking Dot would know – now I am no expert on relationships but if they are to have a successful marriage talking things through, things that trouble either one or cause them problems seems like a good idea to me, but, as I say, what do I know?

I think Jack and I are getting better at communicating, I feel we are on an even keel and I hope it stays that way. Feeling the way I do about him is something I am still exploring, I shall not push him, I need him to come to me of his own accord, and I'm sure he will, one day in the not too distant future. Until then we shall investigate together, have our post case drinks and maybe dinners ...