Author's note: I recommend koalanet slang dictionary as a companion if you are confused.

Barbara stared at Tommy, tears welling in her eyes. "Where?"

"I'm not sure. They are going to send through a photograph. No one here can really identify him. We should have taken photos back in Sheffield."

Barbara nodded and turned back to the window. "If it is him, I'll never forgive myself."

Tommy empathised completely. He walked over and placed his arm around her shoulder. "None of this is your fault Barbara, none of it."

They stood in silence waiting anxiously for his phone to buzz. Barbara leant into him and rested her cheek tentatively on his bare chest. His skin was warm and his smell comforting. He made no effort to move away so she closed her eyes and allowed time to stand still.

Tommy was guilt-ridden, partly because he should have done more in Sheffield to protect Rufus but mostly because standing with Barbara pressing her face against his chest he was content, almost happier than he had been in years. When one of her tears trickled down his stomach and she reached up to wipe away any more he pulled her to him and wrapped both arms around her protectively. Her hands briefly touched his sides then settled lightly on his hips grasping his belt. He could not tell her it would be alright, that it would not be Roo, because he did not know. On the balance of probability it was him. All he could do was to be there for her. "I'm sorry Barbara."

Neither of them moved for several minutes until his phone bleeped urgently. They sprung apart and looked at each other uncertainly before Tommy opened his message. Barbara stared at the screen. "Oh my god!" she reeled away and collapsed onto the black leather sofa uttering a deep keening sound.

Tommy rushed to her side and tried to hold her but her flailing arms pushed him away. "Barbara, it's okay. It's not Roo."

"I know,' she wailed, "but it's some other poor boy who will never grow up and whose mother will never hold him again."

"We'll find Roo," Tommy assured her, "I promise you Barbara." He stood and offered her his hand. "Come on, we need to have showers and get ready. Bill'll be here in a few minutes and the sooner we start the sooner Roo will be safe." Tommy could not justify his faith or promise but he would do everything possible to find Roo. He understood that his future happiness might rest on it.

Barbara looked up at him and could not help but calm down. He looked so certain. It was something she had always admired in him. She trusted him. She believed in him. She accepted his hand but warned him "you'd better be right this time Tommy."

Bill was waiting when they went downstairs twenty minutes later. "Feel better?"

Barbara made the effort to smile at him and sound friendly. "Yeah much thanks."

The drive was short and Barbara was surprised when Bill pulled into the underground carpark of a modest tower block. She did not know what she expected but the non-descript brown and glass office block was not it. The lift whisked them up quickly to level twenty-three. They moved through heavy glass doors with the New South Wales Police insignia etched into them and straight into a large open area filled with men and women in blue and grey suits bustling about. Huge banks of television screens dominated the internal walls with live feeds from CCTV around the city. Bill led them on a winding path around the workstations towards a large room blocked off from the rest of the floor by thick frosted glass panels. As they passed, Barbara stared out of the large windows that overlooked a different body of water and a lower pedestrian bridge, across which hundreds of workers in suits or overcoats rushed into the city. In the distance small green and cream ferries dashed around picking up commuters and traffic on the freeway streamed steadily towards the city's heart. There was a buzz about Sydney that reminded her of London but she was never going to admit that there was anything attractive about the place.

Bill opened the door. The room had a central wooden table. The long side wall was filled with photos, times and dates that had been linked with red arrows and blue symbols. This looked familiar and real. Barbara began to relax until she noticed all the men wore suits and the two women were in jackets and neat collared shirts. A quick glance told her everyone had carefully polished leather shoes. She looked down at her faded jeans, trainers and old coat and felt decidedly underdressed.

A huge man who seemed as wide as he was tall stepped forward and shook their hands. "DCI Harry Davidson but call me Davo," he boomed, "welcome to the team."

"DI Thomas Lynley and this is DS Barbara Havers," Tommy replied politely as he shook the man's hand.

"So what do we call you both then?" the man asked, his ruddy complexion darkening slightly.

Tommy frowned, unsure how to respond so Davo continued, "We're not into formalities here Inspector. I'm Davo, Chief or Boss. We don't use Guv in Australia and I know the English often refer to their junior officers by their surnames but here it's considered disrespectful. We use nicknames, first names or rank. So what do we call you two?"

Tommy had never really had a nickname other than Tommy and he had never considered one for Barbara. "We're happy to fit in with local customs," he said reassuringly while he glanced at Barbara to ensure she was not going to make a fuss.

Barbara nodded and waved awkwardly. "Hi."

"No one calls me Guv either…thankfully. I'm Tommy," he said as cheerfully as he could while trying to judge the approval of those in the room, "but Barbara is generally, well, Barbara."

The officers laughed and Tommy was annoyed and a little bewildered. One of the older men was perched precariously on the edge of the timber table. He eyed them up and down. "Babs,' he declared adamantly.

"I prefer Barbara," she said boldly. She felt her face flush with anger.

The Australians all laughed. "You should never've told us that love," the man said gleefully.

Barbara looked at Bill for support but he simply shrugged and shook his head. Tommy shifted uncomfortably but she got the decided message to just let it lie. She disliked Australian men more and more with every passing minute.

"Right, now that's settled I'd better introduce the team." Davo pointed to his squad in turn. "The big mouth is DS Barry Selkirk or Bazza. He's as old as Methuselah and our resident ocker but he has the ear of the street and connections everywhere."

"G'day." The man who had nicknamed Barbara nodded to Tommy and winked at Barbara. He was the oldest man in the room. His mousy grey hair was receding leaving a shiny, bumpy skull that had more than its share of scars. His remaining hair had been shaved down to minimise his baldness but instead it made him look mean. Tommy noticed the heavy nicotine stains on his gnarled fingers. His cheap, grey suit was too loose and hung off his left shoulder matching his dishevelled demeanour. Tommy did not trust him and he was not a man to annoy which was why he had tried to stop Barbara arguing with him. They needed to find Roo and the officers in this room were his best chance of doing that quickly.

"Gibbo or DI Tony Gibson is on loan from the Vice Squad," Davo continued, "he's our link into the murkier aspects of this case."

"Pleased to meet you." A smallish man with dark glasses and a pale, serious face, he spoke with a slight British accent that intrigued Tommy who guessed he was about forty.

"Suffolk?"

The man looked surprised. "Originally. Moved here when I was ten so don't remember much."

The DCI continued his introductions. "DS Cameron Richmond. We call him Richo although he keeps trying to insist we call him Cam." The man had sharp, intelligent eyes and he smiled directly at Barbara. She could tell she had an ally. He was clearly the trendiest of the group in a designer suit, sharp hairstyle and a practiced bearing. He was not ordinarily the type she would align herself with but something about the way he looked at her told her he was on her side. She would call him Cam.

"Kosti, otherwise known as DC Alessa Kostopoulos." Alessa was dark, brooding and immaculately groomed. Her smile was artificial and Barbara disliked the way she had glanced scornfully at her but looked at Tommy as if she were sizing him up for dinner. She sensed the woman was a definite threat and could easily make trouble for her.

"Next is Martina Petrenko from our community liaison team. You can try calling her Pet if you're game but better to stick to Marty." The others snickered and Barbara felt embarrassed for her.

"Get lost Davo," she retorted laughingly, clearly unfazed and unoffended. The woman was overweight and slightly red in the face but she exuded friendliness and an inner peace that attracted Barbara. Another ally.

"Whitey you've met and last but not least we have our operations officer, DS Arturo Fitsiori. Never call Fits that though if you value your life." The rest of the team laughed. Fits nodded laconically. He was a portly middle aged man who looked like his suit - well past his prime.

Davo had been watching Tommy closely, clearly assessing him. Tommy was confident he would be accepted. He was a few inches taller than the sandy-haired Australian and about half his weight. He had worn his navy suit with white shirt and royal blue tie. His shoes were polished. He fitted the image they seemed to expect. He only hoped that Barbara did not inform them he was the Eighth Earl of Asherton as he could tell that would lower his standing considerably in their eyes.

Tommy saw Davo turn his attention to Barbara. When saw a look of disdain he bristled. "I thought we might need to interview people on the streets today so I asked Sergeant Havers to dress casually."

Barbara looked up in surprise at Tommy's unprompted and unexpected defence of her. Her eyes thanked him then turned to Davo. He hid his disapproval quickly but not fast enough. Barbara was determined he would not intimidate her.

Davo puffed up slightly. "Yeah, well there's a time and place for undercover. As a general rule plainclothes here equals suits and ties. If we're investigating a murder or a rape it looks disrespectful to turn up in anything less. A man in our custody was killed and a young boy is alone somewhere in a strange city and I want those behind this found and convicted. People take you seriously if you dress seriously."

Tommy understood his point. In his earlier years he had always dressed in a suit but lately he had resorted to jeans and casual clothes. Davo was right though, how would he feel if someone turned up in jeans to investigate the murder of someone he loved? He might need to change his habits back in London. He looked across at Barbara waiting for her objection but none came. She was looking at the floor near her feet. "We understand…Davo," he said as evenly as he could, "and we want to find Rufus Woods alive and unharmed. You have our full co-operation I assure you."

"Good," Davo said with a genuine smile, "Okay, let's get started. Maybe we should begin with some background from your case."

As Tommy started to run through the events in Sheffield a man knocked and entered the room with cups of coffee and a stack of bacon and egg sandwiches. Tommy gratefully grabbed a cup. "We believed the father was the most likely suspect but we had no confirmation until you contacted us."

Fits took up the story. As soon as he started to talk Tommy changed his mind about him. He was astute and detail minded and as he outlined the case from arresting Woods to the attack on the car Tommy could see he had thought through motivations and possible actions. "It was co-incidence that they were spotted comin' into Sydney via Cairns. The passports were good forgeries and we believe they were obtained in Switzerland. They flew via Singapore to Port Moresby and then into Cairns. Not a route we would be expecting people fleeing England to use. We also found another man on that plane, travelling on tickets booked through different agents, who was also on those same flights. It is too much of a co-incidence for 'im not to be connected but unfortunately we didn't know that at the airport so he slipped through."

"Do you have a photo or description?" Tommy asked.

"That's him there on the left taken from the airport CCTV," Bill White said pointing to a photo on the wall. "He sorta matches with an early photo of Wood's brother John but he's got no criminal record so we don't have much to compare and the bloke we captured at the shooting is not co-operating."

"So if they were apprehended at the airport why were they sent to Wollongong and who knew when they were being returned here?" Barbara asked taking care to get the pronunciation correct.

It was Gibbo who answered. "The local boys wanted 'em down there to investigate the links to a Macedonian paedophile gang. Someone there must've tipped 'em off."

"So we can't trust the local police there," Barbara said half as a statement and half as a question.

"Look Babs, no one wants to cause a blue by accusin' someone of bein' crooked but yeah, someone there must be on the take," Bazza said from the back of the room, "I'd start by looking at the Maco officers."

Tommy and Barbara looked at each other perplexed. No one offered to translate. "I'm not sure I understand," Barbara said.

Bazza looked at her and spoke slowly. "You don't look like yer a roo short in yer top paddock but yeah, it looks like we can't trust 'em. Ethnic bonds run pretty deep there so it is probably one of the officers of Macedonian extraction." He had over enunciated his last sentence as if he were speaking to a simpleton."

"Bazza, quit it. We have to remain open to all possibilities," Davo admonished.

Barbara stared at him. He represented everything she disliked about this country. "My roo's are fine, just a little slow to get hopping after the flight."

Cam laughed and smiled at Barbara. "Did the boy say anything that might give you a clue where he might go? Any relatives he might have mentioned? Family friends?"

"No. He didn't remember much about Australia but he has a photographic memory so if something was triggered he might go there. Do you have previous addresses for the family?"

"Yeah, nothing in Sydney. Everything's down in the Illawarra."

Tommy frowned and Cam pointed to the map. Barbara came closer and stood in front of Tommy. "This is the city here," Cam said, "Rufus ran away here in Redfern. This area here is the Cross - Kings Cross where most homeless kids end up. Down here past the Royal National Park we run out of Sydney suburbs. This area here on the coast around Lake Illawarra is called the Illawarra. Wollongong is the city and these are its suburbs. Roo's dad lived here at Warrawong. He worked here at the steelworks. He grew up here at Port Kembla and his wife grew up here at Unanderra."

"Any remaining family?" Tommy asked.

"His parents are both dead. The mother several years ago and the father about twelve months ago from cancer. He has a brother, John. No mention of his wife's father, even on her birth certificate. Her mother, Christine, seems to have disappeared from the records about four months before Michelle Woods took Rufus overseas. No death record, no marriage but she stooped filing tax and closed her bank accounts. We have people trying to track her."

"Do you think he'd stay in Sydney?" Tommy asked, "Or try to make his way back there?"

Fits shrugged his shoulders. "We just dunno. We thought maybe you'd have an idea seein' you'd met 'im."

"Why the Cross?" Barbara asked staring at the map sipping at her coffee. Somehow she felt she was the key to predicting what Roo would do.

"It's where all the action is love," Bazza said smugly, "nightclubs, drugs, prostitutes, criminals, gays, street kids. They're all there...in spades. Been like that since the Second World War 'cause it's just up the hill from the old wharves and the navy base. Young boys go there to make money at the Wall."

Cam looked embarrassed. "I doubt it Bazza, the area's been cleaned up and you know it. Besides the kid's only nine."

"The Wall?" Tommy asked suspecting he knew the answer.

"It's an old convict era goal, here, that's now an art school. The big sandstone wall on Darlinghurst Road was notorious for many years as a gay pick-up spot. Boys could make enough for food or drugs. I doubt he'd go there," he added seeing the alarm on Barbara's face.

Tommy looked at the board and the map. "Where was the other boy killed?"

"Here at Newtown, it was a hit and run. His mother reported him missing a few hours ago. Apparently he had gone done the street for milk."

"Poor kid. What was he wearing?"

"Jeans, runners, and a black hoodie why?"

"What did Rufus have on when they were attacked?"

Fits looked blankly at Tommy. "No idea. Anyone?"

Marty thumbed through some papers in a folder then swore. "Jeans, runners and a black hoodie."

"Someone mistook him for Roo and ran him down. Now they either think they succeeded or they are still looking."

Kosti moved next to Tommy. "They will know soon. We released the story to the news an hour ago."

Tommy turned to Barbara. "What do you think?"

"His mother taught him to hide. He's a smart kid but he's in a strange city. He's going to need help. I think his grandmother is still alive and he knows where she is. I think he try to contact her."

Bazza groaned. "There's no proof she's still kickin' and how are we gunna find her?"

They all stared at each other. Tommy's phone buzzed and broke the silence. "DI Lynley. Yes Sir…did they get any more information?...thanks…yes Sir."

Barbara frowned at him. "About the case?"

"Yes, that was Hillier," he said to her then remember his audience, "my boss in London. Roo phoned our office looking for Barbara. They did not realise it was him until the message was given to Winston who took it to Commissioner Hillier. It came through about an hour ago. So he is still alive. The officer taking the call told him you were in Sydney."

"Oh thank goodness," Barbara said, "at least we know he is alive and must have some money. He might try to call the police here."

Tommy shook his head. "I doubt he trusts the police here after what happened. The number he called from came up on caller id so the officer recorded it. They've sent it through to your team so it can be traced."

"Good, we might finally get a break here," Davo said as he bit into his sandwich just as his phone rang. He caught a drip of egg that was squeezed out and threatened to drop onto his shirt. "Davidson," he barked, "well I'll be blowed."

"Drama Boss?" Kosti asked.

Davo looked up at his team. "That was the morgue. The man that was shot was not David Woods."