The station was just west of the airport, only a few minutes’ drive from the compound. A hunched, brutalist structure, it squatted on the busy road opposite a small golf course, a nine-hole eccentricity owned and operated by the Royal Australian Air Force. The airport runway ended in a concrete apron maybe half a mile or so away, over an empty field on the far side of the golf links. A fat-bellied military transport plane roared in to land, directly over her head. The shadow flitted across the golf course like a giant, awkward bird of prey. Julianne assumed the unusual arrangement was a leftover from the city’s pre-Wave frontier history. There wasn’t much else left over from that time in this small area of northern Darwin.

‘This was all a waste ground when I arrived,’ Shah remarked, sweeping his hand in a graceful arc. ‘You cannot see it now, but the ocean is only a few minutes’ walk away.’

Jules tried to catch a glimpse of the striking jade-green waters she’d flown over on arrival, but the suburb across the road from the RAAF’s beautifully maintained lawns had been so densely developed, it presented as a solid wall of concrete, fibrous cement, tinted glass, steel and aluminium. Small commercial set-ups and government enterprises, among them the police station and an office of the Free Port Development Authority, faced onto Bagot Road. Shah had told her that the streets tucked in behind these had been built up with expensive townhouses right down to the water’s edge. One of them was his family home, which explained why the Bagot Road detectives had taken charge of investigating the attempted bombing of his house.

‘It is mostly new people around here,’ said Shah. ‘Business people like me, who have set up in the last few years. A few Americans, but mostly from the region. Many Indonesians, many, many Chinese. The FPDA controls the building regulations, not the city council . . . so there are no regulations.’

He stopped and laughed at his own joke; a rich, stentorian laugh that teased a smile from Jules in return. Still, she wondered why the hell Shah was giving her the tour-guide spiel while they stood around roasting in the tropical heat.

‘But it is very expensive to buy in here,’ he went on, seemingly oblivious. ‘That is what regulates development. Not law. My own home was built in less than four months. The labourers worked night and day. It is a lovely space, Miss Julianne, but it was very, very expensive to build. You must come around to dinner tonight. The rest of my family will want to meet you. They call you “the Deliverer”, you know.’

‘That’s lovely,’ replied Jules, who had felt her skin starting to burn after just a minute in this sun. ‘But –’

‘Ah, he is here.’