‘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.’
I helped belt her into her four-point harness. ‘I’m going to show you the lines before I let you loose on the track.’
‘You’re in charge,’ she said.
I didn’t think so.
I put the car in gear and eased on to the track with the rest of the school cars. Brands is a fun track. It’s challenging, because unlike most tracks, it’s not flat. It undulates. Combine that with short straights and plenty of curves, and it’s a tough track to get right.
I wound the BMW up through the gears and into the Druids hairpin. Cones at the edge of the track showed where to brake, turn in, the apex and the exit point. I talked my way through the bend, explaining to the detective how I applied the power as I put the car through the corner and demonstrating how I approached each corner the same, but adapted for the speed of the corner and the approach. After the three demonstration laps, I brought the car in so that Huston could take over.
‘Did that make sense?’ I asked her as I strapped her into the driver’s seat.
‘Yes, you’re very good at this.’
‘Thanks. Now take it easy on the first lap. Get a feel for the car and the track. Most importantly, just have fun.’
The second we hit the track it was obvious this wasn’t Huston’s first rodeo. She took the BMW by the scruff of the neck and dragged it around the track kicking and screaming. She hit all the marks with precision. She drifted the car through the bends, clipping the apex every time. She had to be a veteran of a police driving course. I didn’t bother correcting her driving. There was nothing to correct.
Huston clocked a hundred miles an hour as she crossed the start-finish line to complete her first lap. ‘No suggestions?’ she said.
‘None needed.’
She smiled at me. ‘Good. Then we can have a little chat. You keep cropping up in my investigation. Did you know that?’
I felt myself sweating. ‘No.’
‘Yes. I found out that you questioned Jason Gates’ girlfriend. I had to twist her arm to get that nugget of truth from her.’
Huston let the statement hang in the air for the next two corners. She was looking to me to fill the gap. I wasn’t about to indulge her. I didn’t know what Carrie Russell had told her. I liked to think Carrie had told the police as little as possible, but that was wishful thinking. She didn’t owe me anything. Regardless, I wasn’t about to say anything that could screw me. Let Huston drag the answers from me. It would give me an idea of what she knew.
‘Nothing to say?’
‘We talked, that was all.’
My answer seemed to irritate Huston, because she pushed the BMW hard through Graham Hill Bend. The car skittered through the sweeping lefthander.
‘Feed the power in,’ I said. ‘Don’t floor it.’
‘What did you need to talk to her about? You said you didn’t know Jason Gates.’
‘I didn’t. I just thought if I talked to someone who knew him, it might help jog my memory about that night.’
‘What crap.’
Huston ignored my advice and went into the Surtees-McLaren-Clark curve complex too hard and fast. She missed the apex by a mile and lost a ton of speed.
‘You’re still getting on the power too early and too hard. Dial it back,’ I said.
Finally, Huston listened to me and was perfect through Paddock Hill Bend and Druids.
‘Did you know Jason Gates’ flat was turned over?’
This question was a potential trapdoor. If Carrie had told Huston she’d found me there, then I was screwed, but I was sticking to the rule — deny everything. ‘No. What was taken?’
Huston frowned.
Yep, she was testing me.
‘And why did you return to the crime scene? Before you deny it, the security guard identified you from a photo.’
No wriggle room there.
‘I remembered something from the night of the murder. When Jason was lying on the ground, just before he died, he pointed at something or someone. I went back to see if I could work out what it was.’
‘You should have called me,’ she snapped. ‘You don’t keep information like that from the police.’