‘Call me as soon as you’re finished.’
‘Will do,’ I said.
After hanging up, I went up to the door and rang the doorbell. Alison answered.
‘Come in,’ she said and led me along a long hallway into the kitchen. ‘I was making coffee. Want some?’
I said yes instead of asking why she’d taken Alex’s car.
The kitchen was filled with the scent of a warm dinner being eaten. I liked the way the heat and smell wrapped itself around me. I sat at the dining table and watched Alison make the coffee. She wore jeans and a tee shirt, but they looked like so much more on her. She sat opposite me and slid a coffee mug over to me.
‘I thought you lived in London,’ I said.
‘I do, but I don’t have a garage at my flat. This is my parents’ place.’
We were alone in the house. ‘Where are your parents?’
‘Out. Giving us space to talk.’
‘About what?’
‘About what you’re doing.’
Myles had said I’d have some explaining to do, but I wasn’t the only one. ‘Why’d you take Alex’s car?’ I asked.
‘For protection.’
‘Whose?’
‘Alex’s.’
Her gaze was unflinching. Her eyes were the colour of storm clouds and shone bright under the kitchen lights.
‘I’m not trying to hurt Alex or disgrace his memory.’
‘How do I know that? I don’t know you at all. And as far as I can tell, neither did Alex. So, I’m confused. You’re taking a lot of interest in Alex’s death and I don’t understand why.’
‘I told you at the railway station.’
‘Yes, you did. You think Derek killed Alex.’
‘Don’t you?’
She was silent for a moment. The tough façade she was putting on cracked under the pressure of the belief we both shared.
‘What are you hoping to get out of all this, Aidy? Your fifteen minutes? Your name in lights? A leg up in your racing career? Or are you trying to settle a score with Derek? Tell me.’
The remarks hurt, but she was hurting. She was striking out at the world for an injustice and I made a convenient target. I was going to have to take some body blows if I wanted Alex’s car. I thought I’d made an ally in the railway car park, not an enemy. I felt my grip on Alex’s car slip. ‘I think you’re being unfair.’
‘Am I? I don’t know, but I’m willing to listen. Explain to me why you’re sticking your neck out for a person you hardly knew.’
‘I just want to prove Alex was killed. That’s all.’
‘So you’re on this crusade for justice?’
‘I wouldn’t call it a crusade.’
‘Have you considered the damage your actions will have on the people who really knew Alex? Eric and Laura want to move on. You’re not helping.’
‘They only want to move on because they believe his death was accidental. Don’t you think their attitude would change if they believed otherwise? You think Derek killed Alex. Do you just want to move on? Are you willing to let Derek go unpunished?’
She was silent for several moments. I’d gone too far and I regretted the remark.
‘Alex meant the world to me. I want to remember him for who he was and not for the bad aftertaste left by others. If I asked you to drop it, would you?’
The incident with Derek in the field filled my head. ‘No, I don’t think I can. It’s gone too far for that.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘The investigating officer in Alex’s death is friends with Derek.’
Her eyes went wide and the hard as nails act collapsed. ‘What?’
‘When I tried to talk to him, I found him drinking with Derek. Then, on Saturday, when I went to Stowe Park to collect Alex’s car, Derek forced me into a field at gunpoint and told me to stay out of his business, or else.’
‘My God,’ she said.
‘People are doing their damnedest to prevent Alex’s murder from coming to light. I can’t let that happen.’
‘And where does Alex’s car fit into all this? Please don’t tell me you just want it so that it can’t be raced again, because I don’t believe you. You don’t get the car until I get a truthful answer.’
‘It’s evidence. I think the car could prove how Derek killed Alex. I’ve taken photographs of the crash site and, in combination with Alex’s car, they’ll paint a picture. It’ll reopen the investigation.’
She stared at me. I didn’t flinch from her gaze. I wanted her to see I was speaking the truth.
‘No one asked you to get involved.’ There was no malice or accusation in her remark.
‘No, they didn’t.’
‘Then why do it?’
‘It was the right thing to do. If any of us at The Chequered Flag that night had stepped in, Alex would be alive.’
‘You honestly believe that?’
‘I do.’
‘OK, then I want to show you something. Hold on a second.’ She left the table and returned a few moments later with a framed photo. She placed it before me. I expected it to be of Alex. It wasn’t. It was of a girl in her early twenties. She looked like Alison, but it wasn’t her. The hairstyle dated the picture back to the nineties.
‘That’s my sister, Jennifer. She died four years ago. I wish I could say she looked that happy when she died.’
‘How’d she die?’
‘Drug overdose.’ She picked up the frame to stare at the picture more closely. ‘Jen was Nick Jensen’s girlfriend. Do you know who he is?’
I did. Nick Jensen was a Brit Pop superstar for all of two albums in the late nineties. I had both in my CD collection. He would have gone on to bigger and greater things if he’d stayed off heroin. When the drugs sang louder than his lyrics, a string of arrests and trips to rehab followed. Incoherent live performances and well-publicized fights at sell-out gigs killed his career. He tried a comeback a few years back, but the fan base wasn’t there anymore.
‘Nick and Jen went to school with each other. If I’m being kind, she got hooked on drugs when he did. If I’m being honest, Nick got Jen hooked on drugs and got her killed because of it. Our family tried to help her, but she wasn’t interested. When Nick’s fame deserted him, Jen didn’t, but we deserted her. I understand loss and I understand guilt, just like you do. We could have done more. We should have done more. Sometimes, you have to accept you’re not God. You can’t save everyone.’
‘Do you want me to stop?’ I asked, still not sure that I could.
She shook her head. ‘No. If you can prove Derek killed Alex, do it. I just can’t help you. It’s too much for me.’
I nodded. ‘That’s OK.’
‘I want to stay informed, though.’
‘Sure.’
She smiled and raised her coffee mug. She was close to tears, but her determination kept them from spilling. I guessed she’d free them after I left. Her strength moved me. I smiled back and clinked coffee mugs with her.
‘Are you OK with answering some questions for me?’ I asked.
She sipped from her mug. ‘Ask away.’
‘Tough one first, I’m afraid.’
‘That’s OK.’
‘Did you see the satellite TV footage of the crash?’
Her hands tensed around her coffee mug.
‘I hate to ask, but it was cut from the broadcast.’
‘No, I didn’t. Couldn’t. The TV people assured me there was nothing traumatic in their footage, but I couldn’t watch it knowing I was watching Alex’s last moments.’
‘Did anyone see the film? Your parents?’
‘Alex’s dad.’
‘Does he have a copy? I’m hoping the cameras caught the crash. That’ll prove whether Derek intentionally forced Alex off the track.’
Alison shook her head. ‘I don’t know. I just want this to be over.’
‘I do too and it will be soon. I’m sorry about this. I just have a few more questions. Is that OK?’