by Simon Wood
‘Phantom cars?’
‘One of the few facts you were right about. The conversion of insurance write-offs into new cars.’
‘He couldn’t have made much off each car. The depreciation must have killed most of the profit.’
‘That was where Vic Hancock came in. You guessed right about his money troubles. He was stretched thin, forcing him to secure funding outside the High Street banks. Rykov provided Hancock a way of paying back his debt and making some money. The great thing about Hancock was he gave Rykov the complete network to exploit. What you saw was one of two dozen operations. They might only make five to ten grand a car, but when dozens of cars are going through his dealerships every week, it stacks up.’
‘At least we know the British car industry isn’t dead.’
Brennan laughed. ‘It might be after tonight.’
‘So this is a pretty big coup for you.’
‘Only if we can get a conviction. That’s been our problem in the past. Witnesses tend to disappear before they see a witness box.’
‘Hancock is going to make a pretty big witness.’
‘He’s massive. Landing him was as important as catching Rykov in the act.’
It explained why Hancock had been the first person out of there when Brennan and his swarm of cops raided the place. Rykov might have had his hooks into Hancock, but that was to the police’s advantage. Hancock was so entangled in Rykov’s operations that his testimony would destroy the Russian and probably a large chunk of the Russian mob.
‘The hope is that bringing Rykov down on this front will give witnesses the courage to come forward to testify on his other business dealings.’
‘And you owe all this success to Derek Deacon.’
‘Afraid so. He proved to be a great informant.’
I couldn’t believe Derek was a police grass, but it explained his behaviour tonight. Taking Rykov’s gun from him when they captured Steve probably saved Steve’s life. Rykov would have put a bullet through Steve’s skull to make his point. Derek’s pleading to take care of Steve, Dylan and me himself was another attempt to save our lives. He might have operated the crusher, but he’d slow-played it in order to buy us time. I had to give it to Derek, he was a good informant.
However, his informant status wouldn’t do his reputation any good with Morgan, Tommy, Strickland or any of Morgan’s mechanics. He was selling them down the river along with Hancock and Rykov. At this point, they didn’t know it was Derek who’d screwed them, but they’d find out in court.
‘I suppose Derek’s going to be under lock and key for a while.’
‘Good news for everyone in racing, Derek won’t be around to defend his title for a year or three.’
If at all. Brennan didn’t have to say it. I knew Derek would be going into a witness protection program. Even if Rykov went down for life, there’d always be a price on Derek’s head. No matter where the police sent him, he’d never step foot on a race circuit again. It would be the first place Rykov’s people would look. It meant Derek’s tenth title would be his last. His motor racing career was over. I almost felt sorry for him.
‘How did you recruit Derek anyway?’
‘Our intelligence pointed to an association between Rykov and Hancock. Our guys picked up Derek on a delivery run. We made him an offer he couldn’t refuse.’
This was where I’d been completely wrong. Brennan wasn’t Derek’s bent cop. Derek was Brennan’s informant. Brennan couldn’t stop laughing when I explained during my statement what I thought I’d witnessed at the Green Man pub.
‘I guess I owe you an apology over the bent cop remark.’
Brennan smiled. ‘Not really. When Derek told me what you thought, I told him to play it up. It was a nice misinterpretation that worked in my favour.’
‘When you busted Dylan and me, you weren’t looking out for Morgan’s workshop, were you?’
Brennan shook his head. ‘You were becoming a bigger and bigger pain in the arse. I was protecting my investment. Derek saw you staking out the place when he dropped off a shipment. I knew you’d come back and I needed to stop you from screwing up my good work. I hoped the bad cop act and a night in the cells would scare you off. It might be a good idea if you dropped the Boy Scout act in future. It’s going to get you killed.’
‘I wouldn’t have had to if you’d helped out there. You left it a little late with the rescue.’
‘You brought that on yourself. Tonight wasn’t our night to spring the trap on Rykov. Derek spotted you while en route and called in with the panic message. We had to scramble to put together a rescue mission. It takes time to assemble an armed response team. We didn’t want a fire fight. We couldn’t lose Derek, Hancock or Rykov.’
‘Or us?’
‘Or you and your friends.’
Yeah, me and my expendable friends. ‘So that’s that,’ I said.
‘Pretty much.’
‘As far as the official story goes.’
‘And what’s that supposed to mean?’
‘Derek took his undercover status a little too far, don’t you think? He busted up my grandfather’s business and tried to burn it. He turned over my home. He beat the crap out of the poor bastard who works at Chicane’s.’
‘We won’t mention your criminal acts such as breaking and entering or your grandfather breaking someone’s arm.’
‘Don’t try to scare me off.’
Brennan put his hands up. ‘OK, I’ll talk to Derek. It sounds like he crossed a few lines. Get me a list of damages and I’ll see what I can do about making amends.’
‘And Alex Fanning?’
‘Drop it.’
‘No. Your man killed someone. He might be your star witness, but I’ll be damned if I’ll let you sweep Alex’s murder under the carpet.’
‘You don’t know what you’re talking about,’ Brennan said.
‘Don’t I? We both know what he did, but no one will say it. It’s going to look pretty bad if your star witness is also a murderer.’
Brennan stood up. ‘You’re tired and overwrought. We’ve booked you a hotel room for the night. I’ll have someone take you there. Your friends will be waiting for you.’ Brennan checked his watch. ‘The hospital should have discharged them by now.’
Brennan stood and crossed to the door. I jumped up and blocked his path. ‘You’re not going to brush me aside that easily.’
He grabbed my arm to usher me out the door. I shook it off.
‘Time to let it go, Aidy.’
‘No.’
Brennan got up in my face, then sighed. He settled on the corner of the table and pointed at my chair. He waited for me to sit down. ‘OK, you win. I’m going to give it to you straight. One, because you deserve the truth and two, because I’m tired of your sodding crusade. It’s about time you saw something.’
Brennan led me out of the interview room and into a briefing room. Rows of tables and chairs lined the room facing a dais and whiteboard. A large, wall-mounted TV peered down at the empty seats.
‘Find a seat and wait,’ Brennan told me. ‘You’ll want to be up front for this.’
A minute later, he returned with a videotape. I didn’t have to ask what was on the tape. He loaded it into a player.
‘This is the unedited feed of the race. It’s the raw footage shot by the cameras that captured the crash. OK?’
‘I thought the tape had been destroyed.’
‘It was. Redline destroyed the tape at Mr Fanning’s request out of respect for his son. I kept a copy because I thought I might need it.’
Brennan hit play then killed the lights in the room.
The first shot stared down the straight from Barrack Hill to Wilts. Jostling for position, the Formula Fords streamed towards the camera with Derek and Alex leading the pack. They were only a few feet apart. Alex had the outside line. Derek had the inside, but he was running a little behind. He needed Alex’s cooperation if he was going to make it through the bend cleanly. The two of them bor
e down on Barrack Hill with everyone else chasing them.
The images propelled me back to that afternoon to relive the experience. My stomach clenched at the knowledge of what was coming next. If Derek had been true to his threat, he would move across to slot his wheels inside Alex’s. Unconsciously, I held my breath.
Then it happened, but not as I’d believed.
Something went wrong with Alex’s car. The car twitched, the rear end kicking out as if struck by an invisible force. His car jerked right, striking Derek’s car. Their wheels tangled and became untangled when Alex’s car rode over the top of Derek’s. The impact kicked Alex’s car onto two wheels for a fraction of a second. When it came down, it slewed hard left and off the track. Instinctively, the cameraman latched onto Alex’s car careening off the circuit. He followed Alex’s path all the way into the concrete wall. The crunching impact spat Alex’s car back across the track. It ground to a halt with Alex slumped forward inside the cockpit, unmoving.
The footage switched to the different camera angle and Brennan hit pause.
‘You OK?’ he asked.
‘I’m fine. Keep going. I want to see the rest.’
Brennan nodded and pressed play.
The rest of the footage was from two other cameras. One followed the action infield at Barrack Hill. The other was an elevated shot taken at Wilts. Just like the first camera shot, they showed the same thing. Alex had crashed into Derek before flying off into the wall, but none of the camera angles captured what had caused Alex’s car to twitch in the first place.
Brennan switched the lights back on. ‘What do you think now?’
‘You’re right. Derek didn’t kill Alex,’ I said.
Lap Twenty-Eight
Monday turned into a dreary, overcast day. I never thought I’d find endless grey sky and drizzle so beautiful, but I did. I was alive. A little beaten up, but alive. The same couldn’t be said of everyone who’d entered Hancock’s salvage yard last night. I planned on embracing every day as perfect, no matter the weather.
I was sitting in a hotel lobby just off the M42 motorway watching the world outside. Brennan had put Steve, Dylan and me up there for the night. As promised, he arrived just after breakfast to get Steve and Dylan’s statements. I hung out in the lobby while he and his team took them up to their rooms.
There’d been quite a reunion when Brennan dropped me off at the hotel. Steve, Dylan and I hugged and cried. I told them I loved them and apologized for almost getting them killed. Neither of them needed my apology. It seemed to have been worth it to them. We’d survived.
Brennan had sprung for separate rooms, which was a good thing. Despite our unfaltering camaraderie, we needed alone time to process everything that had happened. We had adjoining rooms with mine in the middle. Through the walls, I heard Dylan crying while on the phone to his parents and I heard Steve talking to himself. I just sat in the bath ignoring the sting of the hot water on my injuries while I ruminated. I’d been wrong about so many things, but somehow something good had come out of my mistakes. Everything that had happened would prey on my mind for weeks to come, but I shelved all thoughts and recriminations and slept like the dead until Steve knocked on my door the following morning to tell me to wake up.
Brennan’s people passed through the hotel lobby on their way out. None of them cast a look my way. I turned to see Brennan walking Steve and Dylan over to me. All three were smiling, which I hoped was a good sign. I crossed the lobby to meet them.
‘Are we free to go?’ I asked.
‘For now,’ Brennan said. ‘Obviously, you’ll be needed in court as witnesses. So you’ll be seeing a lot of me over the coming months.’
‘Lucky us,’ I said.
Brennan patted my cheek. ‘It’s no treat for me either, son. You’re a tenacious little sod, which is to your credit and your detriment. Don’t let me catch you at it again.’
‘Thanks.’
‘There’s a compliment in there if you look hard enough.’
‘I’m sure.’
‘OK, let’s get out of here before a sudden bout of affection breaks out.’ Steve put a hand in my back and ushered Dylan and me forward.
‘Can I buttonhole Aidy for just one sec?’ Brennan asked.
I shrugged and Brennan and I waited until Steve and Dylan had pushed their way through the revolving door into the covered courtyard to get the cars.
‘I spoke to Derek this morning. He denied attacking your grandfather or the guy from Chicane’s or breaking into your home.’
‘Well, he would, wouldn’t he?’
Brennan frowned. ‘Aidy, accept it. Please.’
I should have known better than to expect a straight answer. ‘OK.’
‘He apologizes for the fight at your grandfather’s workshop and the roadside hijacking. He hopes you’ll understand why he acted that way. It was for your own safety.’
I wasn’t in the mood to argue. There was only so much anyone was going to admit to. There was no point in my pushing the issue. As Brennan had warned me last night, we’d broken enough laws of our own. ‘Apology accepted.’
‘Good.’
Steve appeared in the lobby doorway with his hands up in a come-on-let’s-go gesture. I shook hands with Brennan and pushed my way out through the revolving door.
Steve and Dylan had brought the two remaining cars from our surveillance escapade – the Vauxhall and the Honda. Steve would have a lot of explaining to do about the destroyed Renault when we got back to Windsor. It would have been nice if the three of us could have driven home together, but it wasn’t an option. Dylan slipped out from behind his dad’s Honda and leaned on the roof.
‘You OK driving?’
Dylan examined his broken fingers, now bound to a splint. ‘Yeah, I’ll live. Hey, I like how that sounds.’
I grinned.
‘I’ve got to get home and check in with my parents, but I’ll come by Archway tomorrow to work on the car, yeah?’
I’d been worried that the hell I’d dragged my friend through had damaged our friendship. I’d put him through a lot. But him saying that told me we were OK. ‘That’ll be good. See you tomorrow.’
Dylan drove off as Steve and I climbed into the Vauxhall. I stared out of the window as Steve drove. I let my thoughts drift, happy not to latch on any particular thought for more than a second. My silence must have triggered something in Steve and he started talking about preparations for the Festival.
‘There won’t be a Festival,’ I said.
‘Why not?’
‘My sponsor is in police custody.’
‘That doesn’t change things. Hancock leased the car and engine for the month. Your entry is paid for. All you have to pay for is petrol and expenses. I say race. It’s the least these people can do for you. Consider it your compensation.’
It was a nice way of looking at it. Hancock probably needed every penny he could get right now, but there were no refunds in the racing world.
‘What do we do about Hancock Salvage’s name on the car?’
‘Keep it on there. Hancock is still your sponsor. His company is still doing business. You have an obligation and it’ll give everyone something to talk about.’ Steve smiled at me. ‘You’re racing in the Festival. I’m going to make sure of it.’
We arrived home in the late afternoon. The house was still in a mess after the break-in, and the wreckage greeted us. As much as I didn’t want to bother with the thankless chore, Steve and I returned everything to its rightful place and threw out anything that had been destroyed. Neither of us were particular hungry, but Steve picked up pizza from the local takeaway. We settled in for a night in front of the TV. Dull, yes, but we were sorely in need of some dullness. The news reported a vague account of a gangland shooting in Redditch, but didn’t say who was involved. I guessed there was a police gag order in place until they had Rykov’s organization nailed down.
‘Have you spoken to Alison?’ Steve asked.
‘No.’
&n
bsp; ‘I think you’d better.’
He was right and I went up to my room and called her. I told her what had happened over the last twenty-four hours.
‘So Derek didn’t kill Alex?’ she said when I finished.
This was my biggest mistake. I’d told Alison that Derek had killed her fiancé. I’d muddied her grieving process with murder accusations. I’d made a mess for so many people. ‘No. He didn’t. I saw the video from the race. Alex crashed into Derek. There wasn’t a thing Derek could have done to prevent it.’
‘What made Alex crash into Derek?’
‘I don’t know. Oil on the track? A lapse in concentration? Any number of things could have caused it. We’ll never know.’
‘So Derek’s threat was just a threat after all.’
‘Yes. I’m sorry. I was totally wrong. I shouldn’t have made you think otherwise.’
Alison was silent for a long moment. ‘It’s OK. You didn’t convince me. You only echoed what I believed.’
It was kind of her to say so.
‘Are you still racing in the Festival?’
‘Yes. Steve and I will be working on the car tomorrow. We’re testing the car Wednesday and qualifying is Friday.’
‘Do you need help?’
‘I’d love it.’
‘Eric and Laura came over yesterday to see me. We talked and we’d like to make the Festival Alex’s official goodbye to motor racing. So, we’d like to help out.’
‘That sounds great. If you don’t mind getting your hands dirty, come over tomorrow.’
‘We will.’
I stayed late at work the following day. It was my attempt to make up for my no-show the day before. I couldn’t really explain myself either. Brennan’s orders. Relations between my bosses and me had become strained over recent weeks on account of my absenteeism. This wasn’t helped by the fact that I’d be out the rest of the week for the Formula Ford Festival. I’d pushed them to the limit and felt my career was on life support.