Hot Seat (16 page)

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Authors: Simon Wood

Tags: #Mystery

BOOK: Hot Seat
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I frowned. ‘For what purpose?'

‘It's a distraction. It gets you out of the way.'

I wasn't sure if I bought that story, but Miss Angry Renault was staying on the board for now.

‘That's a whole lot of stuff up there, but I'm not sure what it all means,' Steve said.

‘We have a handful of pieces to the puzzle, possibly to a number of puzzles,' I said. ‘We need to be aware of them and focus on what we do know.'

‘Which is what?' Steve said.

‘Jason was murdered. Motives and reasons will reveal themselves if we can establish why Jason was poking around Ragged's transporter that night.'

I shifted over to the second board and drew a horizontal line. At the top of the board I wrote:
Timeline
.

‘Where was everyone when Jason was killed?' I said.

At the centre of the line, I wrote the time and date Jason was killed. Working backward from Jason's time of death, I added a milestone for the approximate time the team had left the restaurant. Then I added milestones for three months ago and twelve months ago and wrote:
Breaks off his relationship with Carrie and leaves Ragged Racing
. I drew a separate line connecting these two times and wrote:
Somewhere Jason starts investigating Ragged's affairs
. And close to the start of the timeline, I wrote:
Four years ago, Jason starts working for Ragged Racing
.

‘Now, there are things that will need to be added to the timeline, but the questions right now are: why did Jason leave the team and when and why did he start digging into their activities? If we start adding everyone else's activities to this timeline, we'll know who killed Jason and why.'

‘And how do you suggest we do that?' Steve asked.

‘By asking some questions that are bound to annoy quite a few of these people,' I said, pointing to the people listed on the murder board.

‘I've got a lot of time on my hands at the moment,' Dylan said. ‘I'll Google Ragged Racing, its history and its drivers and see if anything interesting falls out.'

‘I think we've got a plan, gents,' I said.

Music from the Jumping Bean Mexican Cantina next door was filtering through the thick brick wall that separated it from Archway. The happy hour crowd had moved in.

‘Dinner's on me.'

While we waited to be shown to our table, Dylan said, ‘You realize that you're following in Jason's footsteps, don't you?'

‘I know.'

‘And that ended with his murder.'

Driving back from Belgium, I'd come to the same conclusion, but my situation wasn't the same. ‘I'm much better off than Jason.'

‘Why?' Steve asked.

‘Jason didn't have you two watching his back.'

Lap Nineteen

T
he next morning, I drove Dylan up to Ragged Racing's home in Banbury. A number of teams, covering the gambit of motorsport from circuit racing to rallying, called the Oxfordshire town home. With convenient motorway access, close proximity to a handful of tracks and reasonable rents, it made sense to establish a home there instead of anchoring a team to one particular circuit.

My reason for going to Rags wasn't just to get Dylan a job and make him my inside man. I needed to make peace with Rags. I hoped that the couple of days since Spa would have mellowed him and he would have gotten over the shock of my police problems. It didn't sound like he'd mellowed all that much when I'd called him to let him know I was coming. I definitely wasn't going to mention being picked up for drug possession.

I parked in one of the Ragged Racing-only spots in front of the warehouse that served as all things Ragged Racing. We got out of the car and walked over to the entrance.

‘Do you think this is going to work?' Dylan asked.

‘God knows with the way my luck is going.'

‘Defeatism. That's the attitude.'

I glanced over at Dylan. He grinned and banged me on the back.

‘Snap out of this, mate. You know you can do this. Am I right?'

Dylan was right, but I never liked to overestimate my chances. Chance always had the upper hand.

‘I can't hear you,' Dylan mocked.

‘This one is in the bag,' I answered as I opened the door.

‘Hmm, I love it when you're forceful.'

My crew was poring over my racecar. I should say what was left of my car. Various body panels had been removed and all four wheels were off. Nevin was hunched over the engine bay when he spotted us. He left the carcass of my car and jogged over.

‘I didn't know you were dropping by, Aidy.'

‘I'm just here to see Rags.'

Nevin nodded. ‘Yeah, I thought as much. Look, I don't know the details and I don't need to. You're a good driver and the boys like you, despite the black cloud you brought with you last weekend. Just be honest with Rags and it'll be sunshine again.'

‘Thanks, Barry.'

‘Who's your friend?'

Dylan introduced himself.

‘Do you mind showing Dylan around while I talk to Rags?'

‘No probs.'

I left Dylan with Nevin and went in search of Rags. The last time I'd been in his office was when he called me in to sign my one-year contract. It had been the best day of my life. Today could be the polar opposite.

The door was open and Rags was on the phone. I knocked on the door. He pointed to the chair in front of his desk and I took my place in the hot seat.

‘Have I let you down before? No, that's right, I haven't. I'll get it to you. OK? Good. Talk to you soon.' Rags hung up and dropped his mobile on his desk.

‘Problems?' I asked, wondering if the call had been about me.

‘Not as big as yours.'

Ouch.

‘You said you wanted to talk.'

‘Yeah, I just wanted to say sorry again. I talked it out with my grandfather and you were right. I should have gone to you straight away about the police issue.'

‘Damn right, you should have.'

‘I know. Lesson learned.'

‘I bloody hope so.' Rags leaned forward and put his elbows on his desk. ‘I won't say I took a risk picking you for this drive, but there were more qualified drivers in the shootout. In fact, you were the least accomplished in the pack.'

Great, I thought and sighed.

‘But I saw something in you. You deserved a shot and were worth the gamble. Now, that gamble doesn't look like it's paying off.'

Was I out? I didn't dare ask the question and risk putting the idea in Rag's head.

‘How bad is this driving charge against you? And don't fucking sugar-coat it. I don't want another surprise.'

‘The police have half a dozen charges lined up, but they haven't followed through and I don't think they will.'

Rags sat forward in his seat and rested his elbows on his desk. ‘Why?'

‘The woman who started this is lying and has nothing to back it up. When the police examine the evidence, they'll find she made the whole thing up.'

Rags was silent for a long moment. He stared at me, mulling over what I'd said. It seemed to meet with his approval. I saw the doubt leave his expression.

‘How sure are you of this?'

‘One hundred per cent.'

Rags flashed a flicker of a smile. I wanted to cheer. I was winning my drive back.

‘How long is this going to take to resolve?'

‘A month? I'm not sure.'

‘Well, I don't want this hanging around our necks. I want it resolved as soon as possible. I'm guessing this bird wants something. Find out what it is and sort it. If she wants money, pay her. If she wants a new car, get her one. Whatever it is, do it and make her go away before this becomes a long-term issue.'

‘Sure,' I said, with no idea how I was going to do any of that.

‘Do you need me to get involved?'

The offer surprised me, but delighted me too. I liked that he'd support me, although he was more than likely offering to protect his own interests.

‘No, I think I've got it covered.'

‘Make sure you do. Just don't let her take your licence. If she does, you're finished with me. Is that clear?'

‘Crystal.'

Rags glanced out his office window into the workshop. He jerked a thumb at Dylan talking to Nevin.

‘Who's that?'

‘That's my friend, Dylan. Can I ask a favour?'

‘Oh, I don't like the sound of this.'

‘He was part of my team last year.'

Rags held up a hand to stop me. ‘Let me guess. He wants a job.'

‘Yeah.'

‘Jesus, Aidy. You don't want much, do you? You've hardly covered yourself in glory since being here and now you want me to add your mate to the payroll? He might be a good grease monkey, but that isn't enough. Those guys out there are highly skilled technicians.'

‘I know. I'm just asking.' Under normal circumstances, I would have stopped pushing here, but I needed Dylan on the inside. ‘He wants to works the pits and he's just after a chance. He's talented and I'm not just saying that. He's been helping my granddad since he was a teenager. Even a trial would be good.'

Rags looked at me, granite-faced, then shook his head. ‘You've got some front on you, Aidy. Really, you do. But luckily for you, I like that.'

I was glad Rags liked
something
about me.

He got up from his desk. ‘C'mon, let's have a chat with your boy.'

In the workshop, Nevin and Dylan were working on a brake disc assembly. It looked as if Dylan had been working his own angle while I'd been working mine. Dylan was doing the work and Nevin was telling him what to do. They stopped working when Rags and I walked up on them.

‘Dylan, right?' Rags asked.

‘Yes, Mr Ragsdale.'

‘Call me Rags. Not even the bank manager calls me Mr Ragsdale. Your friend here says you want a job.'

Dylan glanced at me before turning back to Rags. ‘Yes, I do.'

‘Everyone here is a class act and I don't have room for passengers.'

‘I'm no passenger, Rags.'

‘I'm glad to hear it. You good enough to swing a spanner with these guys?'

‘Given time, yes.'

‘This ain't a nursery, son. Drivers rely on you being sharp. I'll ask you again. You good enough to swing a spanner with these guys?'

‘Absolutely.'

‘That's more like it. I'm going to have Barry put you through your paces. If he gives you the stamp of approval, then I'll give you a trial.'

‘Already have,' Nevin said. ‘And he's got good hands.'

‘Really? People work fast around here when they want to.' Rags made a pretence of looking Dylan up and down. ‘OK, I'm going to give you a trial run. If you keep your screw-ups to a minimum, I'll think about putting you on the books.'

Dylan, grinning like a kid on Christmas day, grabbed Rags' hand and pumped it.

‘Don't get too excited. I'll cover your expenses when we travel, but there's no money in it until you prove yourself.'

‘Great,' Dylan said.

‘You room with Aidy too.'

‘Not a problem.'

‘Good. And part of your job is keeping this idiot' – Rags pointed at me – ‘out of trouble. Other than that, welcome to the team.'

A cheer went up. Nevin shook Dylan's hand and the crew followed in turn.

Mission accomplished. Dylan had gotten his big break and I had my inside man.

Rags grabbed me by the arm and pulled me away from the crowd around Dylan. ‘You owe me.'

‘I know. Thanks so much for doing this.'

‘I want more than thanks. I've got a job for you this weekend.'

He walked me over to a black Honda Accord. It was the road version of our ESCC cars.

‘This car belongs to the person I was talking to on the phone. He's a sponsor. The boys here have been breathing on the car. By the time they're finished with it, it'll be no different than one of the ESCC cars. As a representative of Ragged Racing, I think it would be nice if you delivered it. Sponsors love that shit.'

‘Sure. No problem. Where and when?'

‘I want it there on Saturday. Munich, Germany.'

Lap Twenty

I
was on the clock the next day instructing at Brands Hatch's racing school. Since landing a drive in the ESCC, I was something of a hot ticket and I'd picked up instructing work at several racing schools around the country because of it.

Track days consisted of teaching the basics of driving around a track to wannabe drivers who were getting their feet wet and at corporate events for entertaining clients. I liked instructing. The pay wasn't great, but it was easy work.

The racing schools liked to use drivers with rising reputations. I arrived for the drivers' briefing to see a number of stars from the single-seater and tin-top ranks, including Chloe Mercer. The schools also liked to use a few old hands, but I was surprised to see Tim Reid. I sat down next to Reid while Chloe did her best to ignore me.

After the briefing, the chief instructor assigned me a car. The school used BMW M3s, which was plenty of car for anyone to throw around a track, especially one as challenging as Brands. I sat behind the wheel. Before the student got to drive, I spent three laps showing them the lines around the track. Then they got fifteen laps to put what they'd learned in the classroom and from my demonstration into practice. To finish off, they got ten laps alone in the car to break a set lap time.

Punters spilled out from the briefing room underneath the race control tower and headed towards us. My passenger door opened and Detective Inspector Joan Huston climbed inside. It was a shock as I hadn't seen her since the night of the murder.

She smiled at my stunned expression. ‘They tell me you're good, so I thought I'd see for myself.'

I didn't believe that for a second. ‘Great.'

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