The voice sounded familiar. Was this a dream? Slowly thoughts flooded into her mind. Doctor? Surgery? Perhaps this is his opportunity for revenge after treating me unsuccessfully for so long.

Her confused thoughts travelled back three years in time and miles away in space. She had a great job. Rockhard Insurance. A company that specialized in insuring highly valuable objects, such as rare stamps, art works and jewellery. The company name was not, however, descriptive of its payout policy. Rather, it indicated the strenuous security measures necessary before Rockhard accepted an insurance contract. Sarah was, or had been, their best assessor. Until she accepted and lost the star.

The Star of the West had been dug up in Western Australia in 1998. Even encased in dirt and dust the diamond had stood out. After cutting and polishing, it looked magnificent: a large, flawless, white diamond, valued at more than $7 million. Following considerable controversy, the Federal Government bought the star to ensure it remained in Australia. It was then decided to exhibit the precious stone around the country, as part of the Centenary of Federation.

'Hhurmph!' said Sarah, giving a good impression of an out of sorts child. She felt miserable. Exploratory surgery on her right tempro mandibular joint, the joint that hinges the jaw, had turned into a four hour marathon. The doctor continued with his assessment.

'The meniscus, the cushion between the joint was displaced and swollen. I couldn't save it so I had to take part of the temporalis muscle, just above the ear, to use as donor tissue and thread it down the hole I made. There was also a large bony spur on the joint. I had to use a diamond head cutter on that.'

The doctor became quite animated as he related the series of events that occurred whilst Sarah was on the operating table. He even sounded enthusiastic, like an astronomer who had discovered a new star.

I do not want this now, her mind cried. I want rest. I want to see my children. Somewhere in the hospital an alarm went off. She drifted into and out of consciousness.

The contract was by far the largest Rockhard had ever had. The company's reputation was riding on it. Plus of course, the financial benefits. Sarah accepted the contract and was in charge of the security. She designed it all herself. And she had lost the diamond.

A knock at the door interrupted the doctor's chatter. Sarah's children. 'Hello kids, please come in.' Abruptly the doctor's tone changed from cold, clinical surgeon to sympathetic family doctor.

The display case was bolted to the floor. Unless someone removed 12 steel bolts, the case was immovable. Three video cameras constantly monitored it. Sarah designed the display room too. She decorated it to resemble the harsh outback, where the stone was dug up. There was a panoramic landscape and pots of lifelike native trees and flowers. Sarah considered herself an artist, as well as fulfilling the role of security consultant. The creative landscape partly hid the video cameras and the guards. She thought it made the display room appear warmer and less intimidating.

The doctor seemed cold and intimidating. Sarah sensed he thought of her as a landmark in his surgical career, a trophy for a rare and difficult operation. Sarah did not feel like a prize. She intuitively felt that the operation had not fixed the problem. It was something in the doctor's reassuring nature. Too much reassurance! It hid something, or maybe she was just being too cynical and suspicious again.

Six guards were in, or close to, the display room. They guarded a trophy. The display case was roped off to a distance of a metre. Just close enough for people to see the Star, but unable to touch the case. And that was only the beginning.

The doctor spoke soothingly from years of practice. But he sounded too smooth, like he was selling a car. 'You will be up and about soon. The operation was a success.'

The display case had an inbuilt security system. If the glass broke or even cracked, Sarah's security automatically went into operation. It worked on air pressure. Inside the case was a vacuum. Anytime the glass broke, air flowed in and the alarms instantly triggered. First, the entire basement, including all the doors and windows, were sealed. Simultaneously, alarm bells rang. Sarah designed three independent sensors and circuits. She tested it. The whole system worked perfectly. No one could leave the room if the alarm went off. Sarah accepted the insurance contract.

Three days after her operation, Sarah returned home. There were at least 30 stitches running through her ear, arcing around the right side of her head. The doctor had gained entry to the damaged joint by retracting the right side of her face. An exaggeration maybe, but Sarah wondered why he cut through her ear. The doctor said the pain was normal. It didn't feel normal.

Three days after the Star was placed on display, a strange thing happened. Two smoke bombs, harmless but messy, exploded in the display room. In the ensuing chaos, the alarm system triggered. It worked perfectly. The entire floor was immediately sealed. When the smoke cleared, the display case was found to be smashed. On the floor nearby lay a hammer. The strange event? The Star of the West lay undisturbed. Nevertheless, everyone was subject to an intensive search. Nothing unusual was found and everyone was eventually allowed to go.

Two days after Sarah went home, the pain continued. The doctor did not seem greatly concerned. The operation went perfectly well, clinically speaking. He had found the pathology and fixed the problem. 'The pain should be improving,' he said, looking suspiciously at Sarah.

'If in doubt, doubt the patient,' thought Sarah. 'Don't question the pathology. God, I sound like a doctor. Sarah thought of something she had read, doctor doctor will I die, yes my child, so will I. Why do I remember that, when I can't recall other things...? After sales service nil, Sarah thought. She took strong pain killers and hovered somewhere between sleep and consciousness.

Three years ago, on an appropriately miserable overcast day, Sarah dropped off her children to their day care. Beth aged 8 and Christopher aged 5 were booked into vacation care. It was two days after the attempted theft and it would be one of the worst days of Sarah's life.

There were hours and hours of recriminations. Even if found, Sarah knew she was finished. She raced to pick up her children. And then she had the accident. A wooden step, weakened by rain and overuse, gave way under her. She remembered nothing but blinding pain, as her head hit the concrete.

The next three years were a nightmare. It was as if the world conspired to punish her. Sarah's medical problems were numerous, yet all related to her accident. Over time, the problems only increased. The pain simply never ended, with peaks and troughs, such that even the troughs were themselves intense. Work was rarely possible. She had to take frequent sick leave, often unpaid, and took strong pain killers. Even then, there were side effects. Displaying rare tact, the CEO mentioned to Sarah that the company was restructuring. Maybe it would be better for her to resign?

Everyone said it was her fault. They pointed and turned away. Blind indifference to her pain. And to her innocence. Even she started to think it was all her fault.

On top of all else, Rockhard, the government, the media and the public all blamed Sarah for the loss of the Star. The CEO of Rockhard, Hank Gamium, hated Sarah. His personality reflected the company name. He had the appearance of someone who was permanently angry and uncomfortable. This reflected in his speech and his manner.

Sarah's day to day life was a challenge. It required intense effort to overcome the pain and exhaustion to do everyday things, such as simply shopping for necessities. She could rarely play with her children, or help them. Except for occasional short periods, Sarah could not leave home because of the intense pain. She found it difficult to even read her mail, quite apart from responding, paying bills and all the everyday things people do. And still noone could find out what was wrong with her. 'Maybe I'm weak,' Sarah contemplated.

The basement display room remained as it was. Perhaps they thought the Star would be found, or maybe another exhibition would take its place? They locked the room and the memories away. Sarah felt that she too was locked away. At least she would not see the people talking about her, blaming her.

At the time she most needed support, her navigator husband decided to take up flying again, but this time, another woman. For a while she did not realize and her marriage continued to just exist. Her husband had moved out of the main bedroom on the pretense that Sarah was often restless. He said he didn't want to further disturb her already disrupted sleep. Alarm bells rang. Possibly because she felt relieved by his actions, but probably because her instincts told her something else. 'Wow, I think it is really over', Sarah said to herself, 'but something keeps me here. I'll know when the time is right to make a decision that could change everything. I'm too tired and too confused. I'm sick of me, everyone else must be too. Self doubt and pain ate away at her once confident persona.

All facets of Sarah's life deteriorated. She was under huge amounts of stress. The medical problems themselves would be enough. But Sarah had severe financial problems and no support, neither financial nor emotional, from anyone. Sarah's mother died suddenly and this just about tore Sarah's heart out and that of her children. They adored their grandmother. That put life in perspective for Sarah.

For a healthy person the problems would be difficult. The cycle was self perpetuating. Her deteriorating health led to less capacity to do anything and so to more stress and worsening health.

The Police and Rockhard investigated the theft. They never solved the crime. Someone had obliterated the view from the cameras with smoke. They smashed the cabinet with the hammer. Unsophisticated, but effective. No one ever heard about the Star again. Sarah thought that strange. Surely it would be ransomed or sold? Maybe then she would be granted peace and freedom from blame.

Sarah thought of her husband briefly. The previous three years had been tough. Adversity should be able to draw a couple together, especially if they had been cohesive in the past. But Sarah's experience of adversity indicated the opposite. After the accident, Sarah needed his support. Yet she found him unsympathetic and distant. Perhaps he had always been that way and it had taken something like this to really make it felt. Or make me take notice, she thought.

In fact, he had always been moody and eager to take on jobs that required him to be away from home for months at a time. There are always signs that things are not rosy, but too often she chose to ignore them. Now, forced to take a longer glimpse at her realities, Sarah didn't like what she saw. In the end, two years after her accident, she took the children and left. She had nothing left but her children. Her husband had his girlfriend. Sarah tried to accept that the children's father would not even pay maintenance for his own children, but she wasn't so forgiving when she called the Tax Department to investigate him.

For three years, Sarah lived with never ending pain. For three years, Sarah was blamed for the loss of a national treasure. Bit by bit her lifestyle deteriorated. The children tried to help, but like any children they needed to be children. Sarah protected them as much as she could, but they were very perceptive, even though she tried to hide her pain.

Finally, three years after the accident, she had the operation. Now Sarah was home. The pain stayed with her. Sarah expended a great deal of energy blocking the pain out, pretending it wasn't there. This left her exhausted, but it was worth seeing her children smile, not worrying about her constantly. 'Hide the truth, cover my feelings,' Sarah mused to herself.

Her health would never be perfect again. They had neglected to do magnetic resonance imaging (MRI) soon after the accident, to check for any breaks in the bones of her face. Sure, Sarah had x-rays, but x-rays are only one dimensional. She saw numerous specialists. Even lost her vision briefly. It had been a very worrying time.

She saw a prosthodontist six weeks after the operation. Sarah's condition worried him too. He immediately investigated. Clearly something wasn't right. Finally an MRI was done. The extensive swelling around the right temple indicated a major problem. Sarah's right eye was almost swollen shut most of the time. Her jaw hardly worked. The concerned prosthodontist had never seen so much swelling and he treated horrific car accident victims. His concern had panicked Sarah and his parting comment elicited the same response. 'You can expect the swelling to take at least 5 years to settle. He even mentioned seeing a pain management specialist, to learn how to deal with the pain. Sarah's response was a silent 'Oh.' He handed her painkillers as she left his office.

Sarah returned to her old workplace. She made her way to the display room, then called the Police. She went to see the Chief Executive Officer. His Secretary rang him and said he was too busy. Sarah ignored her and defiantly marched into his office. She placed the Star of the West on his desk.

Sarah greatly enjoyed his reaction. He had treated her with contempt, even hinting that she was involved with the theft. He rarely and only grudgingly conceded the good work she had done. He sat silent for about a minute. Then he slowly recovered.

'My security system worked exactly as designed. The answer revolves around the matter of trying, against actually stealing the stone. If the Star was actually stolen, by which I mean removed from its case, the security system would work perfectly. The building would be sealed and everyone searched until it was found. There is no possible way around that. 'But.... Sarah paused. 'If the diamond has not been located after searching the people, then it must be still in the building. No one is allowed to leave and the building is searched relentlessly and so on.'

She paused. The pain in her jaw throbbed excruciatingly, but her mind was crystal clear. Sarah smiled. She had discovered mental discipline was a means of handling the pain. 'But what if the diamond is still in its case? Sure, everyone was searched but there was no need to go any further. It is assumed, as it was at the time, that the attempt has failed. No one is pleased that there has been an attempt, but there is enormous relief and congratulations all round. The system was too good for the criminal.'

'I am afraid you have missed the point,' said Sarah with considerable delight as the Police were shown in. Quickly she repeated what she had just told the CEO.

Puzzled faces looked at her from all around the table. No one understood the enigma, but all delighted at the recovery of the diamond. Sarah turned back to the exasperated CEO.

'OK one more clue for you all. Look at the stone. I'm no expert, but the Star was so much publicized and photographed, that everyone knew about it. It is what we call a perfect white diamond. White means there is no inner colour of yellow, or blue, or whatever. Perfect means it is clear, with no flaws. It is very similar to glass. Sarah looked at all the men around the table. Still none of them understood.

'This white perfection is, in one sense, an inherent weakness in the security system,' she continued. 'It is easy to make a copy and in fact I believe some cheap imitations have been sold. So you can see what the thief did. He or she did what any professional thief could easily do. They had a perfect copy made from glass. It is much more difficult to copy a flawed, coloured diamond. Now I am sure you can all see what happened!'

Sarah continued gleefully. 'Any jeweller would recognize a fake, but from over a metre away, it would be hard to tell and it might be months before someone realized. In crime fiction it is known as the perfect crime - one that nobody knows has occurred.'

Sarah laughed, despite the pain in her jaw. 'It was ridiculously easy. The perpetuator mingled with the crowd. They had a hammer taped along their arm and discretely lit two smoke bombs near the display room. When the smoke bombs went off, the room filled with harmless, thick, dark smoke. It hid the cameras and the guards. Everyone panicked because of a possible fire. It took only a few seconds to smash the case and exchange the diamond for the copy. The person dropped the hammer on the floor and moved as far away from the scene as possible.'

Sarah suddenly warmed with renewed self confidence. She thought of the last few years. How the blame had mingled with her pain. How she suffered alone at a time when she needed help. How she was tarred with the brush of blame.

'The thief knew that. So they returned it to its origins so to speak. Pushed into the earth of the artificial environment. That is where I found it today. They planned to recover it a day or two later. Unfortunately for them the fake was discovered and the whole exhibition closed. The star has sat in the dirt for 3 years.'

'We can easily catch whoever it was. I suggest we do not disclose that the star has been found and just open up the display room again, with another exhibit. Sooner, rather than later, someone is going to show up to retrieve it.' By the way, I think it is likely to be the same person who has tried to burgle this place several times. I guess we should be glad the security remained in place.'

'I am actually quite looking forward to meeting this person. Whoever he or she is, beat a superb security system, but overlooked one important detail. We polished the star frequently.'

The CEO had by now regained some of his composure. He was a man used to getting his way through a combination of bluster, veiled threats and flexibility with the truth. 'Well, I think the company can claim the reward. Though we thank you Sarah, for your help.'

Sarah gave a mild half yawn. 'I wonder how Rockhard's image would be if the public knew the star sat in their basement for three years. And, that I found the diamond. Soon the police will have caught the criminal.' She let her words sink in. Then she rifled in the killer blow. 'The Press and your shareholders would also be interested in this story...' Her words trailed off, but the meaning was clear. It was good to see Gamium lost for words. Even he knew he was beaten.

But even Sarah was surprised. The display room reopened with Australian contemporary art. Crowds flocked in. Maybe to see the art, but many wanted to see where the Star of the West was stolen from. A tall, attractive, blonde woman dropped her bag near one of the plants. Her companion conveniently blocked a camera. Sarah saw her miserable ex-husband.

Lyle Barwick is a struggling writer who has a government job that helps him pay the bills until he is able to remove the word 'struggling' from writer.