As soon as they walked through the double glass doors of the terminal into the dark of pre-dawn the heat enveloped Barbara. "It's so hot," she said to Bill who looked at her strangely then checked his watch.

"It's only six o'clock Sarge. It'll get a lot warmer than this by lunchtime."

Sarge? Disrespectful little upstart. "I thought you were coming into winter."

"Yeah we are but we should still hit about twenty four degrees today."

Tommy was amused by the exchange. "Sydney's winter temperatures are almost the same as our summer ones Barbara, although we can have some hot days and they can have some cold ones. It's more humid here though which I think is what you're noticing."

Barbara rolled her eyes and followed the men across the road to the multi-storey carpark listening to them debate the influence of east coast lows, which she gathered brought bad storms during this time of year; another reason to dislike this wretched country. She sat in the back of the car to allow Tommy to stretch his legs. "I'll drop you at the hotel," Bill explained, "then pick you up later so y'can meet the others in the squad."

"Fine," she said coolly.

"A chance for a warm shower and a change of clothes will be excellent. Thank you Constable," Tommy said hoping to compensate for Barbara's rudeness.

Bill whisked the car onto a freeway. The first yellow rays of dawn stretched across the inky sky and as they swept around by the bay Tommy was impressed with the softness of the light across the water. Within a few minutes they had driven past a golf course, under the runway and up onto an elevated road heading past a second golf course with a backdrop of brightly lit container terminals and chemical plants. A little further on another golf course with enormous water traps attracted his eye. They sped past blocks of modern apartments interspersed with the facades of old warehouses and factories on the left and yet another golf course on the right. This one though was more undulating and covered by large established trees.

"Does everyone in Sydney play golf?" Barbara asked in disbelief.

"No, a few do I s'pose," Bill answered, "oh, this is a bit of a sand belt through here and the lakes and golf courses were part of the flood mitigation plan in the nineteen thirties. They're not bad courses but quite dear to be a member. Do you play Sarge?"

"Me? No! And don't call me Sarge please Constable."

Bill's faced turned red and he mumbled an apology. Tommy felt sorry for the young man who was trying so hard to be helpful. "How long have you been a detective?"

"Shows doesn't it. Sorry Sir. Three weeks. I was fast tracked at the Academy. I spent two years up country in Orange then three up The Cross but then my chance came a few weeks ago to join Sydney City Local Area Command."

Tommy smiled at the nervous young man. "I'm sure you'll make an excellent detective. What can you tell us about the case?"

Bill started to relax as he began to discuss work and Tommy could instantly see he had a sharp intellect despite his dubious taste in suits. Roo's father had been heavily in debt with a gambling syndicate that was linked to a paedophile network. "We think Woods may have kidnapped his son to pay off the gang. You know, provide a new boy for their, er...purposes."

Barbara was angry and horrified. "Is there any evidence of Roo having been abused?"

"I don't think so but the local boys down The Gong will have a better idea. The Boss will be able to tell you more. I think we'll go down there later today."

Bill turned off the freeway onto Cleveland Street, a narrow road lined by shops and terrace houses in muted creams and greens. Barbara had little interest in the city or its architecture. The gum trees that lined the footpaths were alien, with layers of white and grey peeling bark. The spearheaded leaves were drab and dry, not like the softer, succulent green leaves of English trees. It seemed a harsh country; arid, hot and impersonal. The jagged city skyline was silhouetted against the morning light with tall, impersonal towers of steel and glass. One reminded her of a cupcake on a pole. Many of their cousins were starting to grow along the Thames too but that did not mean Barbara had to like them.

The hotel was crammed into a busy part of the city near a major railway terminus and looked cheap, noisy and soulless. It was no worse than many of the places they had stayed in England but Tommy looked at Barbara and knew her fears matched his own; Bill had said a single room. "Do you mind waiting here a few minutes Bill?"

"Yeah, no worries Inspector," he replied cheerfully.

Tommy and Barbara entered the foyer. It was pleasant enough in a bland, utilitarian fashion. Tommy could see it catered mainly to the tourist market with its unframed photographs of koalas and kangaroos adorning the walls above the racks of tourist leaflets in a multitude of languages. Tommy explained to the receptionist the problem but was informed that they had no second room. They were offered an inspection. The room was smaller than his office and the red sandstock feature-brick wall behind the bedheads seemed to close it in further. Two large single beds with bedspreads covered in a loud floral print filled the room with only a foot or so of space to shuffle around them. The ensuite was tiny. The sliding door revealed a space the width of the plastic pre-moulded shower recess on the left. A tiny sink below a mirror framed in white plastic was directly in front of the door and a toilet on the right faced the shower.

"It'll be like staying in the caravan," she said trying to sound positive. Tommy looked at her and raised his eyebrows.

"No, I'm sorry," Tommy said firmly, brooking no argument from Barbara. "I'll find us somewhere with two rooms."

They returned to the car and as Tommy settled into his seat he pulled his black-rimmed reading glasses and phone from his pocket. The glasses were a necessity these days but they reminded him he was getting older. Sadly he felt no wiser. After a few minutes Tommy showed Bill his phone. "Take us here please Bill."

Bill's jaw dropped. "You sure Inspector? It's pretty exy."

"Exy?"

"Expensive. It's one of the dearest pubs in Sydney! Especially with its views during Vivid."

"I know someone there who'll give me a good rate." Tommy did not want to raise his wealth with Bill but he was amused by the young man's appreciative whistle.

"Mates rates. No worries."

Havers was grateful Tommy had found two rooms. It would have been impossible to hide her feelings in that confined space but she was concerned about him paying. She was beginning to become far too indebted to him. What annoyed her most was that she was beginning to accept his gestures without feeling he was abusing his wealth. She knew he was simply being thoughtful, as he had always been - even when he arrogantly redecorated her parents' house. She had come to love his generosity and kindness but it had been far easier to object when she could not understand his point of view.

"What's this Vivid?" Barbara snapped impatiently trying to avoid thinking about Tommy.

Bill looked in his rear vision mirror and smiled at her. "It's a festival of colour. They light up everything with projections of pictures and laser lightshows; the Coathanger, the Opera House, The Rocks, and all the old sandstone buildings in the CBD. It draws huge crowds and there are fireworks and laser shows at Darling Harbour and concerts."

"Sounds like fun," she answered clearly indicating she felt the opposite. "Is everything in this country called 'the'? Makes it sound as if you only have one of them."

Tommy saw Bill's face fall and felt the need to apologise. "It's been a long flight. We're just a little tired."

"Yeah, that trip's a bugger. Twenty four hours wedged into narrow seats with some bloke snoring next to ya and the sheila in front with her seat right back so ya can't even roll over. No wonder ya both a bit grizzly."

"Indeed," Tommy said guiltily but slightly miffed that the man thought he too was being rude.

The constable nodded but Tommy was annoyed that he felt obliged to cover for his partner again. He was trying very hard to make this trip as pleasant as possible under the circumstances and yet she was being stubborn and difficult. He briefly wondered why he loved her and blushed slightly at his answer. He found this sarcastic, prickly side of her alluring. Even in their first case it had fascinated him and made him determined to discover what lay beneath her aggression.

Bill impressed Tommy when he refused to be intimidated by Barbara. "Everything has to have a nickname here; it's just the way it is. The Coathanger is the Bridge, you know the Sydney Harbour Bridge, because it looks like a coathanger but a lot of things are just shortened like King's Cross becomes the Cross. And yeah, mostly we only have one of everythin' important. No point in creatin' waste is there, sarge...ant."

"So Wollongong becomes the Gong."

Bill laughed almost hysterically. "It's woollen-gong Sarge, not wall-ong-ong! Yeah, we tend to shorten everything I s'pose. Unless it is already short; then we lengthen it."

Barbara groaned. As they drove through the narrow canyons of buildings to their hotel Bill continued to chat about landmarks and placenames. Barbara sat fuming in the back understanding that she was being unpleasant but still resenting the victory she had heard in Bill's tone when he corrected her pronunciation. He seemed nice and did not deserve her vitriol. She was worried about Roo and had been concerned that she might have to spend a couple of nights in a small room with Tommy but had been disappointed when he had been so firm in his decision not to repeat their caravan adventure. It was hard not to be offended. She had enjoyed those few days but it seemed he had not. She had thought in recent weeks something was shifting in their relationship, right at the time she needed it to be steady. It seemed from his response it was not changing at all and it was simply her imagination. She steeled herself and forced her fantasies and hopes back into their hiding place where they belonged. Her face coloured with embarrassment for ever thinking anything had changed.

"I'm sorry Constable," she said as Bill opened the car door for her she step out, "I didn't mean to be rude. I appreciate you coming out at this hour to pick us up."

"No worries," he replied with a generous smile. He turned to Tommy and handed him a card. "I'll come back at seven forty-five. Any problems just give me a call. Do ya want me to wait to see if they 'ave a room?"

"No, I booked on my phone. Thanks again Bill," he said as he shook his hand.

Tommy had been forced to book one of the most expensive rooms in the all-suite hotel but if the pictures were accurate it would be worth it. Despite his feelings for Barbara it would have been inappropriate to squash into a small hotel room. This way they would have space and time to themselves. Here he would be able to focus on the case and not fight the temptation to kiss her every time he looked at her.

The hotel foyer was a stark contrast to the other hotel. It covered the entire bottom floor. The hotel site had been created by cutting away part of a hill and the effect was striking. Floor to ceiling glass panelling separated them from lush gardens that clung in crevices in a ten metre wall of orange-streaked, creamy sandstone created by the cut. Tommy checked in and with a slight nod of the receptionist's head the concierge clicked his fingers and a young man appeared to escort them to their room.

Barbara had expected two rooms but they were escorted to a large suite with two bedrooms and a common living area. The curtains were all drawn which emphasised the minimalist, modern feel of the suite. It was decorated in bold yet understated shades of grey and black highlighted by the rich, red cedar of the six-seat dining table and the huge desk under the window.

Her room was large. The king size bed was inviting with a bronze silk bedspread over which a generous portion of the crisp white linen had been folded back. A small box of chocolates sat on the fold with a handwritten welcome message from the hotel manager. Barbara shook her head. Trust Tommy to get gilt-edged service within ten minutes!

The bed was dwarfed beneath a padded headboard in a muted grey that stretched almost to the ceiling. A dark grey felt covered chair sat in the corner under a window that was shielded by stiff bronze taffeta and the softer folds of bronze netting. A large flat screen television was on a cedar dresser opposite the bed which had matching bedside tables. The lights were all flat to the surfaces. There was nothing in the room that was superfluous to function.

"Will I open the blinds ma'am?" the porter asked.

"No, thanks."

"Your bathroom is in here."

Barbara stepped into a Japanese bathhouse. The centrepiece was a large square bath set into the floor with low, square-line sliver taps and broad cedar surrounds. It was already three quarter filled with steaming silvery water. Behind it the creamy marbled wall reached the ceiling which had a row of silver pipes with large holes.

"That's your rainfall shower," the man said proudly, "the bathwater is changed daily at six a.m. via an automatic system so that your bath will be ready when you wake."

Barbara swung around to survey the rest of the room. A rack of different sized white, fluffy towels ran from the floor to above her head and two enormous and thick robes hung on hooks. Above the deep, square sink a series of four inch slivers of glass reminded her of peeking out from behind bamboo. It was an odd feature but as she stood and looked the images reflected coalesced into a seamless image. "How does it do that?" she asked as she moved in and out of its range to test its affect.

The young man grinned at her cheekily, "It's all done with mirrors ma'am!"

Even Barbara had to laugh but she stopped when the porter opened an opaque glass door to reveal a substantial toilet. "It has thirty-eight functions and you can programme your personal preferences for flushing, washing and drying."

Overwhelmed Barbara returned to the main living area to find Tommy standing by the window. He had opened the curtains and Barbara was awestruck. They were on the forty-ninth floor and the view was uninterrupted from beyond the world famous Harbour Bridge across Circular Quay and over the Sydney Opera House towards the mouth of the harbour. The rising morning light reflected off the crests of gentle waves like diamonds on a bed of deep blue velvet. A myriad of twinkling lights in the houses and apartments on the northern shore began to fade as the light grew steadily stronger. She moved to the window as the porter asked, "will that be all Sir?"

"Yes, thank you." Tommy crossed the room and passed the man a moderate gratuity. He walked back to the window and stood as close as he dared behind Barbara. If circumstances were different he would encircle her with his arms and start nibbling gently at the nape of her neck that was enticingly visible above the neckline of her jumper.

"What do you think of the view?" he asked.

"That it's expensive!"

"Hmm, but worth it," Tommy sighed edging slightly closer to her back. He found the view captivating, especially the bridge with its four sentinel pylons standing resolutely. The illuminated grey, rough-hewn granite looked like the sandstone that formed the colonial shapes of many of the buildings they had passed. Lights ran along the thick deck and spotlights picked out the details of the curves and beams of the steel-grey arch creating the illusion that it was turquoise against the lightening sky. The winking headlights of cars moving across it to the city made it shimmer.

"We're here to rescue Roo not stare at the view all day. Besides the bridge looks like the Tyne Bridge in Newcastle."

Tommy could tell by her tone that she was impressed but was never going to admit it. "Yes but it's quite a bit bigger and was started first. They are both modelled after the Hell's Gate Bridge in New York."

"How on earth do you know that?" she asked in amazement turning to look at him. He was standing so close that her shoulder brushed his chest. They both moved back at the shock of touching and she turned back so he could not see her blush.

Tommy was not going to tell her he had read it in the in-flight magazine. "I'm well read," he said smiling above her head and noting how her neck coloured. He put his right hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently.

"Anyway I'm going to have a shower and some breakfast. It's going to be a long day."

Tommy's room was smaller than Barbara's but decorated in the same theme. He left his door ajar and began to strip off his suit jacket, tie and shirt wondering if Barbara was watching. As he removed his watch and emptied his trouser pockets his phone buzzed.

"Barbara!" he called as he rushed back into the room. She stood by the window still staring out at the city she proclaimed to dislike.

She turned and frowned knowing that his tone was ominous. "What?"

"They've found the body of a boy matching Roo's description."