Did Not Finish

Lap Twenty-Nine

Steve, Dylan and I arrived at Stowe Park ahead of Alison, her dad and the Fannings the following morning. While Steve and Dylan parked, I checked in with the Hansen brothers. They were in the classroom, setting up for the day’s punters. I wondered how much of the truth about Derek had filtered back to the community. Did they know he was a police snitch? I doubted it. The truth about Derek wouldn’t come out until Rykov was in jail and by then, Derek would be long gone, living somewhere under a new identity. That didn’t help me in the meantime. People saw me as an interfering busybody. There was nothing I could do about it and I didn’t much care what people thought of me at this circuit. This was my last time here.

I held out the two hundred in cash. ‘When can I go out?’

Tony Hansen counted the money twice, making sure I hadn’t short-changed him, then handed it off to his brother. ‘Our clients will hit the track at nine forty-five for their first session. There’s a lunch break between noon and one. Between those times, the track is yours.’

I walked back to Steve and Dylan. They’d unloaded the Mygale off the trailer. Besides the Hansens, we had the paddock to ourselves, which was perfect for what we needed to do.

The three of us eyed the murder weapons — two cap head bolts and nuts. They were there in plain sight, but perfectly camouflaged. As murder weapons went, they weren’t as threatening as a knife or a gun, but they were no less lethal. The fatal blow wouldn’t be immediate. The improperly installed bolts were more along the lines of a time bomb. No one could say when they would go off, only that they would and when they did, it was over for me.

Dylan dropped to one knee, spat out sunflower shells and tried the nuts. ‘Aidy, they’re loose already. You want me to tighten them?’

‘No.’

‘You can’t go on the track with them like that. Even the trip down here has almost shaken them loose.’

‘I want to see if our killer has an attack of conscience.’

‘You really think that’s going to happen?’

I didn’t, but I wanted to give the person the opportunity to do the right thing. ‘If we switch out the bolts and don’t say anything, the killer will know we’re on to them and it will force them to do something else. We know about this situation and can control it.’

‘This is crazy. Tell him, Steve.’

‘It’s Aidy’s decision. He knows what he’s doing.’

‘Let’s get me ready to go out there.’

I suited up in the van’s cab. As I was putting my boots on, Alison and her dad drew up next to the van with the Fannings in the back.

I said hellos, shook hands and received hugs knowing full well that one of these people had killed Alex and booby-trapped my car.

Steve corralled his team and put them to work. Together, they fuelled the car, topped off the coolant system, checked tyre pressures and taped down the bodywork.

Despite there being a killer in our midst, we had a nice little vibe going. We were working well as a team. I took the time to examine these people. I tried to visualize one of them as a killer and I just couldn’t make the image come alive. I wanted to be wrong, but knew I wasn’t.

When the car was ready to go, Steve fired up the engine. Everybody stood around the car which had become a symbol of triumph over tragedy for all but one of us.

‘This reminds me of Alex’s last race,’ Mr Fanning said. Instead of sadness on his face, there was a smile. ‘We were working like this then. I didn’t think we could be this happy again. This is a sad, but special moment for me. I just want to say thanks to everyone for being here.’

Mrs Fanning came over, slipped an arm around her husband’s waist and kissed him.

‘Let’s hope Aidy can put up some fast times today to celebrate,’ Steve said.

‘Let’s hope so.’

Alison hugged her dad and he winced from her embrace.

I checked my watch. It was two minutes to nine.

‘OK, I’ve got just forty-five minutes of track time before the students hit the track, so I need everyone to get to their places.’

I climbed into the car and Dylan made the pretence of taping over the latches on one of the radiator pods in order to lean in close.

‘The nuts are still loose,’ he whispered. ‘You’ll be lucky to make it around the first bend.’

‘Put some silicon over the end of the bolts.’

‘That’s a temporary fix. I can’t say how long that’ll hold everything in place.’

‘Just do it, please.’

In the confusion of everyone gathering up tools and timing gear, Dylan surreptitiously squeezed silicon bath sealant onto his fingers and daubed it over the end of the bolts.

For the sake of appearances, I broke my ritual and didn’t do a final spanner check before getting into the car. Not wanting to break my superstition entirely, I kissed my mum’s St Christopher.

‘Be careful, mate,’ he whispered after he was done.

I wanted to say I would, but my mouth had gone dry and the words wouldn’t come. Instead, I nodded and pulled on my helmet.

Steve and Dylan belted me in, cinching me tight into the car. It couldn’t escape me and I couldn’t escape it. If we were going down, we were going down together.

Steve gave me the thumbs-up to make sure I was good to go. As soon as I mimicked his gesture, he and Dylan climbed into the van.

‘Where are you two going?’ Mr Fanning asked.

‘We’re going to take corner times,’ Steve said. ‘Alison knows how to record lap times.’

Alison hung the stopwatch around her neck and handed her father the pit board and lap chart. She waved at me, then led her dad and the Fannings to the pit lane.

Suddenly, the weight of what I was doing hit me. I was going to catch myself a killer. I took a breath to calm myself. I couldn’t catch anyone if I slammed the car into a wall. If I wanted to catch Alex’s killer, I just had to drive.

I put the car in gear and trundled over to the assembly area where the race school cars were parked. The pit gate was already open for me and I joined the circuit.

I had the track to myself and I experienced a minor bout of agoraphobia. It felt vast without anyone else out there to race against, but I didn’t knock it. If either of the bolts fell out, I didn’t want to take anyone else with me.

I accelerated hard up through the gears. The car responded well. It was all holding together, for now. I tried not to think about the nuts vibrating and trying to shake the silicon off. I held my breath going into the first bend and emerged from the corner still in one piece.

The car completed the first lap fine. Every one of my senses was amped up for the slightest flicker that would tell me that one or both of the bolts had let go.

I completed a second lap. Mr Baker held out the lap board with my first time on it. It wasn’t bad considering the circumstances.

I piled on the laps, steadily eating away at my times. I was giving it ten tenths, but those bolts were at the back of my mind. I didn’t know if it was real or imagined, but I’d swear I felt a looseness from the rear of the car going as I powered through the bends. Either way, I clung to the hope that the silicon was holding fast.

On the last of my twenty laps, Steve and Dylan waved me down the back straight. I stopped the car and they came running onto the track.

‘Jesus, Aidy, did you have to push it so hard?’ Dylan moaned.

‘I’m here to test the car.’

‘And catch a killer. Get your priorities straight.’

‘Hey, cut the arguing,’ Steve said. ‘We don’t have long.’

Steve and Dylan peeled the silicon off the bolts. This piece of subterfuge went unseen by anyone in the pit lane since the circuit’s topography restricted a clear view of the track.

‘You’re good to go,’ Steve said.

‘Where’s Brennan?’

‘He and the cavalry are waiting in the wings,’ Dylan said. ‘We just have to call him when we have something.’

‘OK. Follow me back. I’m going to need you two to back me up.’

I selected first gear and accelerated away. I imagined panic would be building in the pit lane. The stopwatch in Alison’s hand would tell the story. I was lapping the circuit in approximately sixty-five seconds. Around the sixty second mark, I should have reappeared in their sights. For every second I didn’t reappear, potential calamities presented themselves — a mechanical failure, a spin, or the worst outcome, a crash. I wanted to screw with everyone’s emotions. Three of these people would be scared, but for one person, my potential no-show would be a source of excitement. When I pulled into the pit lane, I expected to see disappointment on someone’s face instead of relief.

I slowed for the pit lane entrance. I exhaled, glad that the bolts remained in place. It wasn’t just for me. I needed those bolts to stay in place for what I planned to do next.

Alison led her dad and the Fannings towards me as I rolled to a stop. I killed the engine and flicked off the master cut-off switch before popping the belt release on the harness. Mr Fanning helped me clamber from the cockpit and I pulled off my helmet.

‘You looked good out there,’ he said. ‘Very consistent times.’

‘Except for the last lap,’ Alison said. ‘You were really slow.’

‘I spun out. Nothing serious. Just got a little carried away.’

I examined their faces for a reaction, but didn’t get the one I was looking for.

Steve and Dylan drew up in the van behind the Mygale. They jumped out and walked over.

‘I think our work here is done for today. Time to pack it up.’

I cast a look in the direction of the clubhouse where the Hansen brothers were schooling their punters. They were safely housed away. ‘I feel like having some fun. You want to take a spin around the track, Alison?’

‘I can’t. I don’t know what to do.’

‘If I can do it, you can. It’s not hard. C’mon, live a little.’

‘Go on,’ Mr Fanning urged. ‘You’re the only one of us who’s in good enough shape to fit in the car.’

‘No, I can’t.’

‘You know how to change gears and press a clutch, don’t you?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then you’re good to go. It’s very simple. All you have to remember is to brake before the corners and accelerate through the bends. No one is expecting you to break any lap records. Just have some fun.’

Dylan clapped his hands and chanted, ‘Do it. Do it. Do it.’

The peer pressure worked and Alison threw up her hands. ‘Alright. I’ll do it.’

‘Good for you,’ Mrs Fanning said.

Steve handed her my helmet. ‘Let’s get you strapped in, young lady. Your chariot awaits.’

Dylan pulled the belts clear for her to get in.

I held my breath. If Alison was behind the booby-trap, she’d find an excuse not to get in. She climbed in and slid into the seat without a second’s hesitation.

‘Stop,’ Mr Baker said.

‘What’s wrong, Dad?’ Alison asked.

‘You don’t have the experience for this.’

‘She’ll be fine,’ I said. ‘She’s more than capable of handling a couple of laps.’

‘I don’t care. I don’t want her going out there.’

‘Dad, I’ll be fine.’

‘See, she’s good to go. Steve, fire the engine up.’

Steve reached inside the cockpit, flicked on the ignition and pressed the starter. The engine caught the first time.

Mr Baker lunged for the car and flipped the master cut-off switch, killing the engine. ‘I said no.’

‘What’s the problem’ Mr Fanning asked.

‘We need to do a spanner check. You had a spin. We should make sure nothing has come loose.’

‘Sure. Where would you like to start — the tracking arm bolts on the rear suspension?’ I asked.

Mr Baker looked directly at me. Instead of the contempt I’d experienced in the past, I saw only fear in the man’s expression. Not fear for himself, but for his daughter. It all made sense in that moment. Up until this point, I knew what had happened, but not the who or why. Now that I knew who, the why answered itself.

‘You did it, didn’t you?’

Mr Baker recoiled from my accusation. ‘Did what? I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m just suggesting we take prudent safety measures.’

‘It’s over. It’s time to come clean. We know what you did.’

‘I’m sorry. You’ve lost me.’

‘Dad, what’s going on?’ Alison asked.

‘Yeah, what is going on here?’ Mr Fanning said. ‘Frankly, I’m confused. Has something happened?’

‘Yes, it has. Clive doesn’t want Alison driving my car because he sabotaged it the same way he sabotaged Alex’s car.’

‘Is this some kind of joke?’ Mr Baker demanded. ‘If it is, I don’t find it at all funny.’

Mr Fanning left his wife’s side and stood directly in front of me. ‘You’d better explain yourself, Aidy, and fast.’

‘He installed several bolts incorrectly so that they’d fall out and send the cars crashing out of control.’

Steve crouched by the rear of the Mygale and pointed to the tracking arm bolts. ‘Eric, look at these bolts. They’re in upside-down and the Nyloc safety nuts have been replaced with ordinary nuts. This is a very dangerous situation and Clive knows it.’

‘Get me out of this car,’ Alison demanded.

I held out my hand to Alison, but she slapped it away. Her father helped her out and she went to him.

‘My God, I haven’t heard so much bullshit in my life,’ Mr Baker said. ‘You need help. Really, you do.’

I didn’t say anything. Naturally, lines had been drawn in the sand. People needed to be convinced. None of it worried me. I knew I was right and I could prove it. I just let him keep talking and digging his own grave.

‘OK, I’ll play along. When did I do this tampering?’ he asked.

‘Last night at Archway. It wouldn’t have taken you long,’ I said. ‘You’re good with tools. I saw your garage. You’re a real handyman.’

‘Is that all you’ve got? A bolt that I or half a dozen other people could have installed? You could have done it yourself in your endless pursuit for publicity. You have no proof.’

‘Don’t I?’

I went up to him. Mr Baker backed up a step, but stopped when he saw I wasn’t going to attack him. He stood his ground with a smug smile on his face. I wiped it off when I tapped his side. There was no need to put any power behind it. Mr Baker yelled out and fell to the ground like I’d hit him with a large, adjustable spanner. While he writhed, I yanked up his sweater. A bandage wrapped around most of his chest and back failed to hide the ugly bruising covering half his side.

‘Steve gave you that when you tried to burn down Archway with him and Alex’s car inside. I thought one of Derek’s guys had done it, but none of them have broken ribs.’

Alison dropped to her knees at her father’s side. ‘Dad, tell me he’s wrong. Tell me he’s lying. Please.’

But Mr Baker shook his head. ‘I’m sorry, love. I didn’t mean to kill Alex. I just wanted him to crash.’

‘No,’ she wailed, pounding on her father’s chest. ‘Why? Why? Why?’

‘I wanted him to get hurt to show you the pain this sport brings. If he saw the light and gave it up, you had a shot at happiness. If he didn’t, then you would have seen that you had no future together.’

‘You son of a bitch,’ Mr Fanning yelled and broke away from his wife.

‘No, Eric,’ Mrs Fanning shrieked.

Steve and Dylan raced to block his path, but he shoved them aside. He cast Alison aside and pounced on Mr Baker.

‘You killed my son.’

Rage consumed the normally mild-mannered man. He grabbed Mr Baker by the hair and smashed his head into the tarmac. Mr Baker put up no defence.

‘You killed my son.’

Alison dived onto Mr Fanning to tear him off her father, but she was no match for his size or rage. He continued pounding the life out of Mr Baker.

‘We welcomed you into our home, you bastard.’

Steve, Dylan and I moved in as a unit. Steve grabbed Alison and pulled her off. She kicked and fought, but Steve just weathered the blows. Dylan and I grabbed Mr Fanning and peeled him off Mr Baker. Mrs Fanning moved in quickly and got in front of her husband.

‘Eric, stop it. We’ve got him. He’s not getting away.’

‘He killed our son.’

Tears rolled down Mrs Fanning’s face. ‘I know.’

The fight went out of Mr Fanning and Steve and I released him. Mrs Fanning enveloped her husband in a hug and they sobbed in each other’s arms. Dylan guided them away from Mr Baker.

I helped Mr Baker up and sat him down on the pit lane crash barrier.

‘Why’d you do it?’

‘For my daughter.’

‘For me?’ Alison screamed. ‘I loved Alex.’

‘I had to protect you.’

‘From whom?’ Alison demanded.

‘From the world,’ I answered. ‘This is all about a father’s love for his daughter. But this isn’t just about you, Alison. It has more to do with Jennifer, doesn’t it, Mr Baker? She fell for the wrong man and couldn’t see it even when it was hurting her. Eventually, it killed her. You couldn’t let that happen again, could you?’

‘No,’ Mr Baker sobbed, misery distorting the word. ‘Nick Jensen killed her. He got her addicted. I tried to help get her off the dope, but she didn’t want to know. She cared more for him than her family.’

‘But Alex wasn’t like Nick,’ Alison said.

‘He was. He was going to break your heart. He would have ended up hurting you, even killing you. Racing is dangerous and destroys lives. Look at the financial damage it causes. I’ve walked the paddocks of a dozen tracks. How many of these guys have pissed their financial future away and for what? Pointless bragging rights.’

It was hard to argue this point. For every driver who made it to the top, hundreds crashed on the rocks of financial ruin. ‘That’s not enough to kill for.’

‘No, but I wasn’t going to risk my daughter’s life. Drivers are selfish adrenaline junkies. Their addiction infects every part of their lives and those around them. How many drivers have died taking others with them? Graham Hill died at the controls of his aeroplane, killing five other people. Mike Hailwood crashed his car, killing himself and his daughter. Colin McRae crashed his helicopter killing three people including his son. If you need any further proof, just look at him.’ Mr Baker pointed an accusing finger at me. ‘His father’s negligence killed his mother.’

A flush of embarrassment coursed through me. I looked over at Steve and saw sorrow in his eyes.

‘I didn’t want you to know the misery of having your family destroyed by a drug whether it’s called heroin or motor racing.’

‘You don’t know that would have happened,’ Alison said.

‘I do. Probabilities dictated it. I just didn’t know when it would happen. I talked with Alex. He wouldn’t have given up racing. He would have carried on until it killed him. It was better this happened before you were married and had kids.’

‘You were wrong,’ I said. ‘He was giving up racing for Alison.’

‘You don’t know that,’ Mr Baker said.

‘I do. He told me he was retiring at the end of the season. It was supposed to be a surprise wedding gift.’

Alison sagged in Steve’s arms and wept fresh tears.

‘You’re lying,’ Mr Baker said with panic in his voice.

I shook my head. The colour bled from his face.

‘Oh, God, no. Tell me you’re lying, please,’ he said to me. When I couldn’t tell him what he wanted to hear, he turned to Alison. ‘I just wanted you to be happy, love. I couldn’t lose another daughter.’

‘Well, you have,’ she said.

Steve pulled out his mobile and punched in a number. ‘Detective, we need you.’