Derek nodded to his boys and they scurried back to their vehicles and got ready to leave. Dylan shifted into the van’s driver’s seat.
Derek opened the van’s passenger door for me and closed it when I got in. He peered over my shoulder into the back of the empty van. ‘If you think I took Alex’s car, you’re wrong. We were both too late for it. You should look outside of the racing community.’
He signalled to his guy to make room for us. Dylan didn’t wait to be told. As soon as there was a gap, he was back on the road and moving.
‘What did that mean?’ I asked.
‘I don’t care,’ Dylan said. ‘I’ll think about it when I’m a long way from here.’
Lap Eleven
‘We are so out of this,’ Dylan said. ‘We are so fucking out of this. Shotguns, Steve. They had shotguns. They weren’t for show. One word from Derek and we would have been dead. No ifs, ands or buts. Dead.’
Being held at gunpoint had been a sobering event for me, but not for Dylan. In the hours since the hijacking, he’d been storming up and down the workshop, bouncing off the walls and workbenches like a pinball reliving Derek’s roadside detour. I made no attempt to calm him. This was his way of dealing with the situation.
Steve had ignited Dylan the moment we got back to Archway when he asked, ‘How’d it go?’ Any chances of a calm and collected explanation went out the window.
Like me, Steve let Dylan rant. He wasn’t interested in an account from Dylan. He was waiting to hear it from me.
When Dylan finally ran out of steam, Steve asked, ‘You done?’
‘No, I’m not done.’
‘Well, I say you are. Take your foot off the throttle and get over here. I want to know what happened.’
Steve and I were standing around Graham Hill’s 1967 F1 Lotus. Steve was restoring it for ridiculous money for a collector in America. Dylan muttered something under his breath and trudged over to us.
‘Right, then,’ Steve said. ‘What happened?’
‘Someone took Alex’s car,’ I said.
‘Tell him what happened after that,’ Dylan chimed in. ‘That wasn’t the bad part.’
‘I get that,’ Steve said.
‘Will you let me finish?’ I said to Dylan.
Dylan put his hands in the air in surrender.
I filled Steve in. Dylan chipped in whenever I attempted to play down any part of our roadside encounter.
When I finished, Steve blew out a breath and ran a hand through his hair. ‘What do you want to do now?’
It was a damn good question. I’d attempted to come up with some information quietly in order to help kick start the police investigation, but somehow my actions had gotten loud and drawn too many people’s attention. People were shutting me out and I didn’t even have the luxury of the police to run to for help. I was pretty much buggered. Trying to do the right thing had thrust me into dangerous waters that were washing me down river, far from safety.
‘I can’t let this drop. Derek’s stunt has given me even more reason to keep pushing. I’m getting close to an answer. I have to be, or Derek wouldn’t be trying to shut me down.’
‘You’re crazy,’ Dylan said. ‘You’re going to get yourself killed and us with you. I’d be safer working on a ten-storey building in a gale than playing detective with you.’
‘Alex was murdered. Are you OK with that?’
‘Aidy, he could have killed us in that field,’ Dylan shouted.
‘But he didn’t.’
‘And that was our lucky break. I think we should embrace it and forget all about this,’ Dylan said.
Steve called our bickering to an end when he pushed himself off the workbench he’d been leaning against and stepped in between us. ‘OK. That’s enough. Cool it. The both of you.’ He turned to Dylan. ‘You’re panicking. You’ve got every right.’
‘Damn right, I’m panicking. Aidy, you weren’t stuck in that van with that animal. He played with the trigger to experiment with how much pressure it would take to fire the gun. A squeeze too hard and I was dead, Aidy.’
‘Enough,’ Steve barked.
Dylan sucked in a deep breath and released it. It slid from him in an untidy exhale. He crossed his arms tight across his chest and jammed his hands under his armpits.
‘The two of you had a frightening experience, but it’s over,’ Steve said. ‘You’re safe now. Nothing can erase what has happened, but we need to move on.’ Steve aimed his gaze directly at me. ‘Are you sure about this? You want to continue?’
‘I’m sure. I’ll be damned if Derek will scare me off.’
Neither Dylan nor Steve showed any enthusiasm for my stance.
‘Look, I’m not asking for your help. I don’t want you getting hurt. I can do this alone,’ I said.
‘But you’d prefer help,’ Steve said.
‘Yes, I would.’
‘Then you have mine,’ Steve said.
Dylan spun the Lotus’s front wheel. ‘You’ve got mine too. I’d be a crappy friend if I didn’t stick by you.’
‘From now on, we work under the radar,’ Steve said. ‘We don’t give anyone a clue as to what we’re doing.’
‘It’ll force them to come out of the shadows,’ I said.
Steve smiled. ‘Good. Then it’ll force them into mistakes.’
I have to admit, Derek’s shotgun party had put me in a bit of a daze, but having Steve and Dylan say they were still with me brought me into sharp focus. I had direction and meaning again. I couldn’t help but smile. All that was happening to my little group should have been breaking us up, but it was bringing us closer together. The more Derek tried to hurt us, the tighter our bonds. I felt confident for once.
Finding out what happened to Alex’s car was my starting point. Derek had said to look outside of the racing community. That didn’t help. I couldn’t imagine who outside of the racing community would want the car. The cops? I didn’t think so. If Brennan had taken the car on Derek’s behalf, Derek wouldn’t have been trying to hijack it for himself. The best person to pry an answer from was Myles Beecham. All roads led back to him. I called him twice on Sunday and once on Monday morning, each time getting voicemail. Obviously, he wasn’t getting back to me until he was good and ready.
Myles rediscovered how to use the phone on Monday afternoon. He gave me a song and dance about why he’d been incommunicado, but I didn’t much care about his excuses. I just wanted to know where to find the car and who took it. Myles gave me an address where I could find it, but warned me I’d have some explaining to do.
‘To whom?’ I asked.
When he told me, the reason why the car had been taken made a whole lot more sense.
So that night, I drove out to Ashford on the edge of London. It’s a nice drive from Windsor along the Thames, past Runnymede and the JFK memorial. The light traffic and cool, still night left me feeling good about life. I had no real reason to feel this way after the events of the weekend, but I had the backing of my friends and family and I was on my way to collect Alex’s car.
I followed the A30, the main drag into London from the south-west. An airliner glided into Heathrow airport to my left as I reached the outskirts of Ashford. I turned off the A30 into a residential maze and followed the directions Myles had given me until I reached a quiet street of semi-detached houses. The sizeable houses were bunched together on either side of a narrow road filled with parked cars. The cramped conditions made everything look smaller than it really was. I parked on the street a few houses away from the address Myles had given to me.
I picked up my mobile and called Steve. I wasn’t to go anywhere alone, but this was an exception considering who I was meeting.
‘Everything OK?’ Steve asked.
‘Yeah. No problems. I’ve arrived and I’m just going in.’