Flowers winced at the nickname she’d bestowed on him when he’d first been partnered with Ryder. ‘Shouldn’t you be in an autopsy or something? I was getting ready to leave a message.’

‘I couldn’t resist answering when I saw it was you. What’s up?’

Flowers gave her a rundown of the situation. ‘I need a team up here real fast. Can you do it?’ He watched as Sergeant Collins headed into the shed. Both roller doors were open and two men were sitting at a table inside, deep in conversation. ‘I think a rep from the Transport Safety Bureau could be here already.’

‘Probably, they’re based in Canberra as well. What’s the weather like?’

Flowers surveyed the sky. ‘Fine, partly cloudy with a light breeze coming from the south—’

‘Righto, smart-arse. Listen up, the local police or emergency services can cover the crash site if there’s strong wind or rain threatening. That’s it, until the body is removed. I don’t want anyone contaminating my crime scene.’

‘So I’ll take that as a yes?’

‘Of course it’s a yes,’ she said irritably. ‘Where’s Ryder? Is he okay?’

‘Fine. Busy juggling court appearances and a whole bunch of other stuff. I’ll tell him you were worried though. Thanks, Harriet, see you when you get here.’ He hung up before she could give an outraged reply. Hiding an amused smile, Flowers went to join the others, relieved that the crime scene would soon be in the hands of one of the best police pathologists in the business.

The shed was part office, part rec room and part hangar. A yellow plane, hardly bigger than a toy, was parked at the far end. Flowers sat down at the table and Sergeant Collins made the introductions. Zane Alam from the Transport Safety Bureau was slightly built with shiny black hair. By contrast, Benjamin Hoff, the airport manager, was blond and lanky and dressed in pilot’s white.

No chance of mixing these two up, thought Flowers, despite their identical aviator sunglasses. Taking out his notepad again, he spoke to Ben Hoff first.

‘Why was the tractor parked in the middle of the runway?’

‘I have no idea. When I left, it was parked beside the shed, like it always is.’ Hoff’s reddened eyes shifted to the blackened scar on the airstrip. ‘It’s never left on the runway—for obvious reasons.’

Flowers turned to Zane Alam. ‘Do you think the pilot made an emergency landing?’ Despite the tractor and slasher, it seemed an obvious question to ask.

‘That will all come out in our investigation,’ Alam said. ‘From initial reports, and these are purely anecdotal, Detective, the pilot may well have landed safely if it weren’t for the tractor. Several members of the community heard the plane come in, as did Ben. No one reported hearing engine failure.

Flowers noted this down, nodding for him to continue.