‘You stupid git.’
‘That’s no way to talk to your grandfather.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘I’m only playing, kid. Don’t take it personally.’
‘I’m not talking about that. I’m sorry because I nearly got you killed.’
‘You didn’t do anything. Don’t you feel bad about this, OK? We knew this could happen.’ He gripped my hand tight. ‘No one comes between us. You know that, right?’
‘Yeah, I know.’
‘Good.’ He closed his eyes. ‘Now piss off, I want to have a dirty dream about that doctor.’
I palmed away a tear and left Steve to sleep. Officer Pine was waiting for me when I left Steve’s room and he drove me back to Archway.
Dylan was standing in the doorway talking to a detective when we pulled up, while other officers and crime scene technicians gathered and catalogued evidence in the workshop. Pine introduced me to the detective and handed him my statement. The detective took me up to the crow’s-nest and we went over the statement. Just like Pine, the detective accepted my account without question. He thanked me and rejoined his colleagues in the workshop.
Dylan came and joined me in the crow’s-nest and we watched the police work.
‘How’s Steve?’ Dylan asked.
‘He’s alright,’ I said. ‘He’s got a mild concussion. They’re keeping him in for the night.’
‘That’s good. It could have been worse.’
‘Thanks for everything, Dylan. I don’t know what I would have done without you.’
Dylan smiled. ‘It’s nothing. You know I’d do anything for Steve.’
We had things to discuss but we couldn’t do it with the cops milling around, so we waited.
It was four in the morning when the police packed up and left. As the detective departed, he said, ‘Don’t worry, son, we’ll catch this guy.’
I didn’t believe him. I knew as well as he did that they didn’t stand much chance of catching balaclava man. He’d had more than enough time to escape. The only way they’d catch him was if he screwed up, but Derek’s people had proved themselves more than competent so far.
It might have been four in the morning, but I wasn’t ready to go to sleep. With the police gone, Dylan and I set about cleaning up. We got Alex’s car back onto stands and soaked up the spilt petrol with Oil-Dri absorbent granules.
Dylan scooped up a shovelful of petrol soaked Oil-Dri and dropped it in a waste bin. ‘They’ll try again.’
I finished checking out Alex’s car and covered it with the cloth. The fall had damaged the wreck even further, but did nothing to hide what Derek had done. ‘I know. That’s why I’m not leaving here tonight.’
‘Neither am I.’
‘Thanks.’
‘I hate to be the bearer of bad news here, but if they want Alex’s car — and they do — they’re going to come back for it.’
I sighed. ‘I know.’
It was dawn before we had the workshop back in one piece and sleep was worming its way into us. We made ourselves comfortable in the office. I tossed a pillow and blanket at Dylan from a stash Steve kept in a closet. It wasn’t the first time we’d pulled an all-nighter at Archway, but those were usually for better reasons than this. Dylan took the sofa and I dropped into my chair at my desk and stretched out with my feet on the table.
‘Who do you think is the one in the balaclava?’ Dylan asked.
‘I don’t know, but it wasn’t Derek.’
It was one thing I knew for sure. The attempted arson was the perfect opportunity to pin blame on Derek and actually get him nailed for something, but our night time excursion only served to provide him with the alibi he needed. Derek had been busy moving Hancock’s cars. It was a kick in the guts.
Derek must have turned to one of his crew. Morgan and Strickland had helped him unload the cars, so that put a spotlight on someone else. Whoever it was, he’d be nursing cracked ribs. That might give me the opening I needed.
‘It could have been our friendly, shotgun-toting tractor driver.’
‘Could be. We’ll have to ask Steve.’
‘Did you see the petrol can the firebug brought with him?’ Dylan asked.
‘No. Where is it?’
‘The plod took it as evidence.’
‘What about it?’
‘It was a red five gallon can.’
I recognized the significance straight away. Everybody used the army-style surplus five gallon, steel petrol cans to refuel their cars. Motorsport suppliers sold them. They painted them to match their corporate colours.
‘Was it Chicane’s red?’
‘Yes,’ Dylan said. ‘I even saw the Chicane’s label on the bottom. Mr Balaclava is definitely a Stowe Park regular.’
At some point, we drifted off to sleep and awoke to the ringing of my mobile. The clock on the phone said it was after ten a.m. It was the hospital calling to say Steve was ready to be discharged.
I stretched and looked around me. The walls were draped in history. Each picture, poster and wreath was a reminder of a great feat in motorsport. Each image or memento was of someone I admired and loved, but all of whom were dead. The attack on Steve made me see the dead as victims, not heroes. This office had once been my favourite place in the world, but it was tarnished now. Goddamn Derek for ruining this place for me.
Lap Seventeen
On Monday, I went straight from work to Archway to finish the set-up on the new car. I’d booked a testing session at Brands Hatch on Wednesday to shake the car down. I was looking forward to it despite all that was going on.
Steve was hard at work on the Mygale. He’d bounced back from Saturday’s attack after taking Sunday off. The old man was tough.
When he saw me walk in, Steve grabbed a couriered package and handed it to me. ‘You’d better take a look at those. They came from Hancock this afternoon.’
He’d already opened the large envelope and I slid out the contents. It contained the decals to put on the car. It was the usual thing, the corporate logo and the firm’s name to go on the sides of the car as well as the nose. Sorting through the decals, I found the problem. Hancock had included two additional decals that proudly proclaimed, ‘Hancock Salvage salutes Alex Fanning, RIP, please support the Alex Fanning Memorial Fund.’ They were hardly sensitive under the circumstances.
‘Is he serious?’ I asked.
‘He’s just getting the bang for his publicity buck.’
‘And milking it for every penny. Do you think he’s told Alison or the Fannings?’
‘I doubt it.’
‘I’ll call them.’
‘Laura Fanning beat you to the punch. She left a message earlier. She wants you to drop by and pick up Alex’s tools and equipment. She’d like you to have them.’
Great. Dead man’s hand-me-downs. My feelings must have shown.
‘Do this, please. It’ll mean a lot to her.’
‘OK. I’ll go ‘round.’
‘Good lad. You want me to put the decals on?’
‘Yeah. Do it. You going to stick around here tonight?’
‘Yeah.’
Seeing Mrs Fanning created a dilemma. It left both Steve and me on our own. I felt safe visiting Mrs Fanning on my own, but I didn’t like leaving Steve alone, not after the attack. We still had Alex’s car, which meant I had something Derek wanted. Steve was no match for Derek’s crew.
‘If I go, I want Dylan here with you tonight.’
‘Good idea,’ Steve said.
I nodded and went upstairs to the office. I called Dylan to get him to come over then called Alison on her mobile. She sounded happy to hear from me.
‘Something’s cropped up that I need to talk to you about,’ I said.
‘It sounds serious.’
‘Not really, but it’s important. Can we meet up tonight?’
‘Sure.’
‘Is there a convenient place I can meet you?’