The sun was sitting on the paddocks and making its presence felt by the time the police arrived. In the golden haze of morning, their flashing lights were unnecessary, but the blue and red in this instance were designed more to encourage the crowd to move than to signal an emergency. Because, clearly, the person hanging up there was dead.

One of the first farmers to call it in, Alan Crowe, stood at the front of the paddock’s gates, holding a hand up to signal the officers through.

The gate behind him had a sign on it: Clean Energy Solutions Australia.

The police phones had not stopped ringing since dawn. Every farmer in his ute or on her four-wheeler had seen the dangling shape the moment daylight appeared. It was a nightmare for the country station. Belinda Burney’s mobile rang again. ‘We know, we’re there now,’ she said, her voice rising. ‘Yes! We can see it, yes, we’re dealing with it now.’

Will Lovett pulled the police car in beside Alan, turned the engine off and gave the man a nod.

‘We need to get that body down now,’ Belinda growled as she ended the call.

‘How the hell do we do that?’

They stared at each other. The real question was, how the hell did it get up there?

‘Mr Crowe?’ Belinda snapped into action as they both stepped out of the car. She held out her hand to the farmer. ‘Senior Sergeant Burney, Belinda. Thanks for keeping everyone at bay.’

‘Whole district is here,’ Alan said, red-faced and flustered. His hair was sticking up like a rooster; he looked as if he hadn’t slept in a week. ‘Everyone gawking.’

Belinda, Alan and Will raised their chins so they too could gawk at the body directly above. The feet were pointing down, rotating slowly, drawing a circle in the air. The turbine’s gigantic blades were still.

‘Senior Sergeant Will Lovett.’ Will took his turn to shake the older man’s hand. ‘A team from Ballarat are on their way, but we’ll need to clear this crowd and check there’s no one else up there.’

‘I don’t have keys to go inside.’ Alan tipped his head towards the turbine. ‘I’m just the overseer – you’ll need the wind techie for that.’

‘Wind techie?’

‘Shane Burrows, local kid. I called him, should be here in a tick.’

‘Good work, Alan.’ Will rested his hand lightly on the farmer’s shoulder. ‘You want to sit down?’

‘Before you do’ – Belinda tilted her head up, shot her tall partner a look – ‘can you tell us how you came to know about . . . this?’ She waved a hand upward.

Alan ran his fingers through his wild rooster hair. ‘Got woken by an alert on my phone. Shane downloaded it for me. It lets me know when any of the units have been opened, or if they aren’t functioning or need maintenance. When that happens, I’m supposed to call him.’

‘So did you call him this morning?’

‘No. Often it’s the new gadget playing up. Plus, it wasn’t even light, just gone five – didn’t want to wake the kid for no reason.’

‘Who owns the turbines?’ Will asked, even though he had seen the sign on the gate.

‘Geordie Pritchard,’ Belinda cut in. ‘He owns them all.’

‘I’ve called him too, left a message,’ Alan said. ‘He should be here soon.’

‘Thank you, Alan.’ Belinda’s eyes were drawn again to those rotating feet.

‘You’re Reg’s daughter, aren’t you?’ the man said, blinking.

‘That’s right.’ She turned her gaze to him, gave a distracted smile. ‘I wondered if you’d remember me.’ Alan had the air of someone who’d been dropped onto a strange planet and had no idea where he was or what to do.

A hush fell over the chattering crowd as an ambulance snaked its way through them. Make way, the flashing lights said, this isn’t over yet.

‘Who is it up there, Alan?’ someone in the crowd yelled out.

‘I dunno,’ the man muttered, then more loudly, ‘How would I bloody know!’

‘Go sit in your ute, mate,’ Will said. ‘I’ll walk you there.’

Grateful, Alan nodded at him, and they began heading to his vehicle.

‘Bound to happen!’ another person in the back shouted, and Will strained to see who it was. He caught a glimpse of a woman ducking behind a group of men. The crowd shifted and he lost sight of her.

‘Do you have any idea who it is?’ Will asked Alan, quietly.

‘No,’ the man said, and then turned his back as a fierce gust of wind suddenly blew in. The turbine blades spun faster. All that energy, Will thought, the power in it.

Another police car pulled up close by and the young senior constable, Tammy Reyner, got out, her wild curly hair blowing into her face.

‘Cordon off the area, will you, Tam?’ Will called out. ‘We need some order round here.’

‘Boss.’ Tammy was onto it, shepherding people away, telling them to leave, that there was nothing to see here.

An eager young man broke through the crowd, holding up a set of keys while making his way towards the bottom of the turbine.

‘Wind techie.’ Alan gave the approaching figure a glance.

‘Shane.’

‘Okay, good.’ Will opened the driver’s door for Alan. ‘Why don’t you go on home, mate? Looks like we’ll be able to get inside and up the turbine now.’

Alan climbed in but then just sat, staring at the steering wheel. ‘Glad Rhonda’s not here to see this,’ he said, jerking his chin upward.

‘Yeah?’ Will didn’t know any Rhonda. After ten months, he still barely knew anyone around here.

‘Why’s that?’

‘She said it from the get-go – these turbines, they’re killers…’