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Authors: Simon Wood

Tags: #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #General

Did Not Finish (31 page)

BOOK: Did Not Finish
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It was the same problem I’d noticed with Alex’s car. I pulled the drop cloth off Alex’s car and stood behind it, comparing it to the Mygale.
‘What are you doing?’ Steve asked.
‘Come have a look at this,’ I said.
Steve and Dylan crowded around the rear of Alex’s car. I pointed at the right rear wishbone mounting with the bolt placed in upside-down.
‘You see that? That bolt could have fallen out during the race.’
‘I know. We’ve been over this,’ Steve said.
I grabbed the bent tracking arm dangling from the upright. ‘We never found the bolt that should have connected the tracking arm to the gearbox mounting.’
‘We went over that too. It could have been lost during transport or the crash. I’m still surprised we found as much of the car as we did.’
Dylan was frowning. A look of disappointment had darkened his expression. He saw that something had lit me up and it couldn’t be good. ‘Aidy, where are you going with this?’
I replayed the tape of Alex’s crash in my mind. The twitch that caused the crash still bothered me. It could have been debris on the track that initiated it, but it was just as likely to have been a mechanical failure.
‘What if the bolt holding the tracking arm in place had been upside-down too? If it had fallen out during the race, the rear wheel would have steered itself and Alex would have had no control over the car.’
‘That’s possible,’ Steve said. ‘So what?’
‘If it was done on purpose, that would be murder.’
‘Oh, c’mon, Aidy,’ Steve said. ‘It’s over. We know Derek didn’t do it. Maybe Jo-Jo or Alex screwed up and put the bolts in wrong. If one fell out, it’s negligence at best.’
‘There’s nothing here, Aidy. Drop it,’ Dylan said. ‘Derek is innocent.’
‘Who said anything about Derek?’ I crossed over to the Mygale. I pointed to the right rear suspension. ‘Got any idea how that happened?’
Just like the bolts on Alex’s car, the bolts connecting the left and right rear tracking arms to the gearbox mountings were inserted bolt head down.
‘Either of you two do that?’ I asked.
‘Jesus, what are you saying?’ Steve demanded. ‘You know damn well we wouldn’t do that. We know how dangerous that is.’
‘So did Alex and so does Jo-Jo. They wouldn’t make a mistake like that. Who worked on the rear corners tonight?’
‘I made everyone go ‘round and do a spanner check,’ Steve said, ‘but no one had the chance to swap out the bolts.’
‘Yes, they did,’ Dylan conceded. ‘There were a couple of occasions before Aidy came home where we weren’t all together or watching what everyone else was doing.’
‘When?’ Steve asked.
‘When you were giving the Fannings a tour of the place, Alison and her dad had the car to themselves. When you and I were showing Alison’s dad how to use the quick-lift, Mr Fanning was working on the car alone. I’m sure there were other times too.’
‘So any one of them could have done it?’ I asked.
‘Shit,’ Steve said and nodded.
‘Who are you saying did this?’ Dylan demanded. ‘The Fannings? Alison’s dad? Alison?’
I didn’t answer. I was pointing the finger at these people and as much as I didn’t want to believe one of them did this, it had to be one of them. Possibly, even Alison.
‘You can’t be wrong about this,’ Steve said. ‘Are you sure?’
‘I am. Look at the nuts.’
‘Christ,’ Steve muttered. ‘The Nylocs are gone.’
Whoever had flipped the bolts had gone the extra mile of replacing the Nyloc safety nuts with ordinary nuts. A normal nut wouldn’t stand up to the car’s vibration and would eventually fly off. This was sabotage.
‘What do you want to do?’ Dylan asked.
‘I need to see the tape of the race again.’
I ran up the stairs to the crow’s-nest and dug out Brennan’s business card. I called his mobile number.
‘Do you have the videotape?’ I asked.
‘Do you know what time it is?’ Brennan moaned.
‘Just answer the question.’
Brennan sighed. ‘Yes.’
‘Can you play it?’
‘It’s at the office.’
‘I can wait.’
‘You can kiss my arse, son. What the hell is going on?’
‘Alex was murdered.’ Before Brennan could object, I cut him off. ‘I helped you get your man. Now you’re going to help me get mine. Alex was killed and someone is trying to kill me. Now get that tape.’
It was half an hour before Brennan called me back. Steve and Dylan waited for the call along with me.
‘OK, I’ve got the tape queued up. Now what?’
I told Brennan what to look for and he played the tape. I heard the soundtrack coming off the tape over the phone while Brennan watched. The drone of engines filled the air. Then they stopped and started again as Brennan rewound and replayed the tape. The sound of the race stopped and Brennan came back on the line.
‘I can’t see clearly, Aidy, but it backs up what you’re saying. I can have the audio-visual tech digitize the tape and clean it up. Then we’ll be able to see more definitively.’
I let out a breath. It was true. This was how Alex had been killed. It explained the missing bolt on Alex’s car and why Alex’s car had bucked before veering into Derek’s car. The bolt had fallen out. The moment it fell out, Alex had become a passenger with no control over the car’s direction. It was all over as soon as Alex touched wheels with Derek.
I’d lived through one blissful day believing Alex’s death had been accident. It hadn’t been satisfying, but it had been reassuring that Alex hadn’t died at someone else’s hand. I should have known the feeling wouldn’t last.
‘Detective, I’m going to need your help in the morning.’
Lap Twenty-Nine
S
teve, Dylan and I arrived at Stowe Park ahead of Alison, her dad and the Fannings the following morning. While Steve and Dylan parked, I checked in with the Hansen brothers. They were in the classroom, setting up for the day’s punters. I wondered how much of the truth about Derek had filtered back to the community. Did they know he was a police snitch? I doubted it. The truth about Derek wouldn’t come out until Rykov was in jail and by then, Derek would be long gone, living somewhere under a new identity. That didn’t help me in the meantime. People saw me as an interfering busybody. There was nothing I could do about it and I didn’t much care what people thought of me at this circuit. This was my last time here.
I held out the two hundred in cash. ‘When can I go out?’
Tony Hansen counted the money twice, making sure I hadn’t short-changed him, then handed it off to his brother. ‘Our clients will hit the track at nine forty-five for their first session. There’s a lunch break between noon and one. Between those times, the track is yours.’
I walked back to Steve and Dylan. They’d unloaded the Mygale off the trailer. Besides the Hansens, we had the paddock to ourselves, which was perfect for what we needed to do.
The three of us eyed the murder weapons – two cap head bolts and nuts. They were there in plain sight, but perfectly camouflaged. As murder weapons went, they weren’t as threatening as a knife or a gun, but they were no less lethal. The fatal blow wouldn’t be immediate. The improperly installed bolts were more along the lines of a time bomb. No one could say when they would go off, only that they would and when they did, it was over for me.
Dylan dropped to one knee, spat out sunflower shells and tried the nuts. ‘Aidy, they’re loose already. You want me to tighten them?’
‘No.’
‘You can’t go on the track with them like that. Even the trip down here has almost shaken them loose.’
‘I want to see if our killer has an attack of conscience.’
‘You really think that’s going to happen?’
I didn’t, but I wanted to give the person the opportunity to do the right thing. ‘If we switch out the bolts and don’t say anything, the killer will know we’re on to them and it will force them to do something else. We know about this situation and can control it.’
‘This is crazy. Tell him, Steve.’
‘It’s Aidy’s decision. He knows what he’s doing.’
‘Let’s get me ready to go out there.’
I suited up in the van’s cab. As I was putting my boots on, Alison and her dad drew up next to the van with the Fannings in the back.
I said hellos, shook hands and received hugs knowing full well that one of these people had killed Alex and booby-trapped my car.
Steve corralled his team and put them to work. Together, they fuelled the car, topped off the coolant system, checked tyre pressures and taped down the bodywork.
Despite there being a killer in our midst, we had a nice little vibe going. We were working well as a team. I took the time to examine these people. I tried to visualize one of them as a killer and I just couldn’t make the image come alive. I wanted to be wrong, but knew I wasn’t.
When the car was ready to go, Steve fired up the engine. Everybody stood around the car which had become a symbol of triumph over tragedy for all but one of us.
‘This reminds me of Alex’s last race,’ Mr Fanning said. Instead of sadness on his face, there was a smile. ‘We were working like this then. I didn’t think we could be this happy again. This is a sad, but special moment for me. I just want to say thanks to everyone for being here.’
Mrs Fanning came over, slipped an arm around her husband’s waist and kissed him.
‘Let’s hope Aidy can put up some fast times today to celebrate,’ Steve said.
‘Let’s hope so.’
Alison hugged her dad and he winced from her embrace.
I checked my watch. It was two minutes to nine.
‘OK, I’ve got just forty-five minutes of track time before the students hit the track, so I need everyone to get to their places.’
I climbed into the car and Dylan made the pretence of taping over the latches on one of the radiator pods in order to lean in close.
‘The nuts are still loose,’ he whispered. ‘You’ll be lucky to make it around the first bend.’
‘Put some silicon over the end of the bolts.’
‘That’s a temporary fix. I can’t say how long that’ll hold everything in place.’
‘Just do it, please.’
In the confusion of everyone gathering up tools and timing gear, Dylan surreptitiously squeezed silicon bath sealant onto his fingers and daubed it over the end of the bolts.
For the sake of appearances, I broke my ritual and didn’t do a final spanner check before getting into the car. Not wanting to break my superstition entirely, I kissed my mum’s St Christopher.
‘Be careful, mate,’ he whispered after he was done.
I wanted to say I would, but my mouth had gone dry and the words wouldn’t come. Instead, I nodded and pulled on my helmet.
Steve and Dylan belted me in, cinching me tight into the car. It couldn’t escape me and I couldn’t escape it. If we were going down, we were going down together.
Steve gave me the thumbs-up to make sure I was good to go. As soon as I mimicked his gesture, he and Dylan climbed into the van.
‘Where are you two going?’ Mr Fanning asked.
‘We’re going to take corner times,’ Steve said. ‘Alison knows how to record lap times.’
Alison hung the stopwatch around her neck and handed her father the pit board and lap chart. She waved at me, then led her dad and the Fannings to the pit lane.
Suddenly, the weight of what I was doing hit me. I was going to catch myself a killer. I took a breath to calm myself. I couldn’t catch anyone if I slammed the car into a wall. If I wanted to catch Alex’s killer, I just had to drive.
I put the car in gear and trundled over to the assembly area where the race school cars were parked. The pit gate was already open for me and I joined the circuit.
I had the track to myself and I experienced a minor bout of agoraphobia. It felt vast without anyone else out there to race against, but I didn’t knock it. If either of the bolts fell out, I didn’t want to take anyone else with me.
I accelerated hard up through the gears. The car responded well. It was all holding together, for now. I tried not to think about the nuts vibrating and trying to shake the silicon off. I held my breath going into the first bend and emerged from the corner still in one piece.
The car completed the first lap fine. Every one of my senses was amped up for the slightest flicker that would tell me that one or both of the bolts had let go.
I completed a second lap. Mr Baker held out the lap board with my first time on it. It wasn’t bad considering the circumstances.
I piled on the laps, steadily eating away at my times. I was giving it ten tenths, but those bolts were at the back of my mind. I didn’t know if it was real or imagined, but I’d swear I felt a looseness from the rear of the car going as I powered through the bends. Either way, I clung to the hope that the silicon was holding fast.
On the last of my twenty laps, Steve and Dylan waved me down the back straight. I stopped the car and they came running onto the track.
‘Jesus, Aidy, did you have to push it so hard?’ Dylan moaned.
‘I’m here to test the car.’
‘And catch a killer. Get your priorities straight.’
‘Hey, cut the arguing,’ Steve said. ‘We don’t have long.’
Steve and Dylan peeled the silicon off the bolts. This piece of subterfuge went unseen by anyone in the pit lane since the circuit’s topography restricted a clear view of the track.
‘You’re good to go,’ Steve said.
‘Where’s Brennan?’
‘He and the cavalry are waiting in the wings,’ Dylan said. ‘We just have to call him when we have something.’
‘OK. Follow me back. I’m going to need you two to back me up.’
I selected first gear and accelerated away. I imagined panic would be building in the pit lane. The stopwatch in Alison’s hand would tell the story. I was lapping the circuit in approximately sixty-five seconds. Around the sixty second mark, I should have reappeared in their sights. For every second I didn’t reappear, potential calamities presented themselves – a mechanical failure, a spin, or the worst outcome, a crash. I wanted to screw with everyone’s emotions. Three of these people would be scared, but for one person, my potential no-show would be a source of excitement. When I pulled into the pit lane, I expected to see disappointment on someone’s face instead of relief.
BOOK: Did Not Finish
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