Minutes later, he turned into the driveway of White Winter Station, the car vibrating as he crossed the cattle grid. Closely planted poplars lined the driveway for several hundred metres before the road wound downhill. A two-storey Georgian-style homestead with tall chimneys lay nestled in the valley below. Several large sheds and water tanks to the rear of the house were a handy distance away, while the circular driveway gave easy access to a smaller building on the other side.

They parked in tandem near the left corner of the house and climbed out into the weak winter sunshine. A curved pathway led to a huge garden to the left of the home and was shaded by old jacaranda trees not yet in bloom.

‘Nice place,’ said Ryder as they walked towards the front steps. The smaller building across the driveway turned out to be a garage, a later addition built in the same style. Through the high lattice fence at the back of the garage, Flowers glimpsed the steel rails of cattle yards.

‘Sorry I was busy when you came through Khancoban, Sarge,’ Flowers said. ‘We could have driven down here together.’

‘It was important you met with the pathology team. As it turned out I was only about ten minutes ahead of you.’

Flowers nodded, his empty stomach churning with dread. Breaking news of a loved one’s death was the worst part of police work, and the one thing that never got easier. He glanced at Ryder. The detective’s shoulders were set square, the frown line between his eyebrows deeper than normal.

‘From time to time you might need to take the unofficial lead in this investigation,’ Ryder said in a barely audible voice as they climbed the front steps. ‘I still have evidence to give in court, and with Sterling undercover . . .’

‘Yes, Sarge,’ said Flowers, surprised, excited and a little daunted all at once.

Ryder had made it clear to the squad that, ideally, he wanted the drug-related murder of Scruffy Freidman solved before he transferred out of Homicide to the regions in eight weeks’ time. Now they also had the mysterious plane crash to investigate. As exciting as it was that Ryder was entrusting him with the lead, it couldn’t have come at a worse time for Flowers. But now wasn’t the time for him to dwell on his personal problems.

‘Thank you, Sarge, for the opportunity,’ he said, as they stepped onto a wide verandah cluttered with cane chairs and lounges. ‘I’m aware the other guys are more senior than me.’

‘Your instincts are better,’ Ryder said simply.

Flowers pressed the doorbell buzzer then listened for it ringing inside. When all remained silent, he opened the screen door and rapped loudly on the glass panel. If Ryder wanted him to take the lead, there was no better time to start than now.