Ryder gestured to Flowers and they began to walk towards the main shed. Flowers waited until the reporters had given up the chase before saying, ‘Your drug hunch could be right on the money, Sarge. We know Art had prior drug charges, and I reckon Scruffy was one of the enforcers putting the screws on the Lorrimers.’

‘There’s no doubt in my mind they recognised him but decided between themselves not to go the police,’ Ryder said as they approached the shed. ‘Did you get on to the other pilots who use this airport?’

‘Yep. Both can account for their whereabouts on the night of the crash. One is still holidaying with his family on the New South Wales south coast, the other was in Melbourne on business. Both stories checked out. Ben Hoff was the only one on duty the day the plane came in.’

They rounded the corner of the shed and the expanse of the airfield opened up before them. The remnants of the plane and tractor had been cleared away, leaving only an ugly section of scorched earth. Further out, the grass was speckled with numerous patches of red spray paint where forensics had marked and photographed items for evidence before the crime scene had been disassembled.

They found Ben Hoff alone in the shed. ‘Not open yet?’ Flowers asked from the doorway.

Hoff put down the armload of books he was carrying and looked up. ‘Not until forensics and the safety bureau tell us they don’t need access to the site anymore.’

‘Ah, gotcha.’

Hoff wiped his forehead with his shirt sleeve, sweating despite the coolness of the day. ‘At least it’s given me the chance to clean up around here. I’ve taken a couple of loads to the tip already.’

‘It’s looking tidier,’ said Flowers before glancing at Ryder. ‘This is my partner, Detective Sergeant Ryder.’

Hoff nodded to Ryder. ‘Is there something I can help you with?’ he asked warily.

‘We’re checking everyone’s whereabouts the night the plane came in,’ said Ryder. ‘Can you tell me where you were at 10 pm two nights ago when Art Lorrimer died?’

Hoff flushed a dull shade of red. ‘I already told Detective Flowers I was at home. I rushed down here after I heard the crash.’

‘Can anyone confirm you were home beforehand?’ asked Flowers.

‘My wife can.’

‘Okay, we’ll check in with her,’ Flowers said easily. ‘I also spoke to Orville Parish. He remembers handing you the key when he finished work, so that fits with what you told us. Apparently, the tractor you had here could be started by anyone who owned a similar make and model. Were you aware that many tractors have a common key?’

‘No, I didn’t know that. I’m a pilot, not a farmer.’