The footage switched to the different camera angle and Brennan hit pause.
‘You OK?’ he asked.
‘I’m fine. Keep going. I want to see the rest.’
Brennan nodded and pressed play.
The rest of the footage was from two other cameras. One followed the action infield at Barrack Hill. The other was an elevated shot taken at Wilts. Just like the first camera shot, they showed the same thing. Alex had crashed into Derek before flying off into the wall, but none of the camera angles captured what had caused Alex’s car to twitch in the first place.
Brennan switched the lights back on. ‘What do you think now?’
‘You’re right. Derek didn’t kill Alex,’ I said.
Lap Twenty-Eight
Monday turned into a dreary, overcast day. I never thought I’d find endless grey sky and drizzle so beautiful, but I did. I was alive. A little beaten up, but alive. The same couldn’t be said of everyone who’d entered Hancock’s salvage yard last night. I planned on embracing every day as perfect, no matter the weather.
I was sitting in a hotel lobby just off the M42 motorway watching the world outside. Brennan had put Steve, Dylan and me up there for the night. As promised, he arrived just after breakfast to get Steve and Dylan’s statements. I hung out in the lobby while he and his team took them up to their rooms.
There’d been quite a reunion when Brennan dropped me off at the hotel. Steve, Dylan and I hugged and cried. I told them I loved them and apologized for almost getting them killed. Neither of them needed my apology. It seemed to have been worth it to them. We’d survived.
Brennan had sprung for separate rooms, which was a good thing. Despite our unfaltering camaraderie, we needed alone time to process everything that had happened. We had adjoining rooms with mine in the middle. Through the walls, I heard Dylan crying while on the phone to his parents and I heard Steve talking to himself. I just sat in the bath ignoring the sting of the hot water on my injuries while I ruminated. I’d been wrong about so many things, but somehow something good had come out of my mistakes. Everything that had happened would prey on my mind for weeks to come, but I shelved all thoughts and recriminations and slept like the dead until Steve knocked on my door the following morning to tell me to wake up.
Brennan’s people passed through the hotel lobby on their way out. None of them cast a look my way. I turned to see Brennan walking Steve and Dylan over to me. All three were smiling, which I hoped was a good sign. I crossed the lobby to meet them.
‘Are we free to go?’ I asked.
‘For now,’ Brennan said. ‘Obviously, you’ll be needed in court as witnesses. So you’ll be seeing a lot of me over the coming months.’
‘Lucky us,’ I said.
Brennan patted my cheek. ‘It’s no treat for me either, son. You’re a tenacious little sod, which is to your credit and your detriment. Don’t let me catch you at it again.’
‘Thanks.’
‘There’s a compliment in there if you look hard enough.’
‘I’m sure.’
‘OK, let’s get out of here before a sudden bout of affection breaks out.’ Steve put a hand in my back and ushered Dylan and me forward.
‘Can I buttonhole Aidy for just one sec?’ Brennan asked.
I shrugged and Brennan and I waited until Steve and Dylan had pushed their way through the revolving door into the covered courtyard to get the cars.
‘I spoke to Derek this morning. He denied attacking your grandfather or the guy from Chicane’s or breaking into your home.’
‘Well, he would, wouldn’t he?’
Brennan frowned. ‘Aidy, accept it. Please.’
I should have known better than to expect a straight answer. ‘OK.’
‘He apologizes for the fight at your grandfather’s workshop and the roadside hijacking. He hopes you’ll understand why he acted that way. It was for your own safety.’
I wasn’t in the mood to argue. There was only so much anyone was going to admit to. There was no point in my pushing the issue. As Brennan had warned me last night, we’d broken enough laws of our own. ‘Apology accepted.’
‘Good.’
Steve appeared in the lobby doorway with his hands up in a come-on-let’s-go gesture. I shook hands with Brennan and pushed my way out through the revolving door.
Steve and Dylan had brought the two remaining cars from our surveillance escapade — the Vauxhall and the Honda. Steve would have a lot of explaining to do about the destroyed Renault when we got back to Windsor. It would have been nice if the three of us could have driven home together, but it wasn’t an option. Dylan slipped out from behind his dad’s Honda and leaned on the roof.
‘You OK driving?’
Dylan examined his broken fingers, now bound to a splint. ‘Yeah, I’ll live. Hey, I like how that sounds.’
I grinned.
‘I’ve got to get home and check in with my parents, but I’ll come by Archway tomorrow to work on the car, yeah?’
I’d been worried that the hell I’d dragged my friend through had damaged our friendship. I’d put him through a lot. But him saying that told me we were OK. ‘That’ll be good. See you tomorrow.’
Dylan drove off as Steve and I climbed into the Vauxhall. I stared out of the window as Steve drove. I let my thoughts drift, happy not to latch on any particular thought for more than a second. My silence must have triggered something in Steve and he started talking about preparations for the Festival.
‘There won’t be a Festival,’ I said.
‘Why not?’
‘My sponsor is in police custody.’
‘That doesn’t change things. Hancock leased the car and engine for the month. Your entry is paid for. All you have to pay for is petrol and expenses. I say race. It’s the least these people can do for you. Consider it your compensation.’
It was a nice way of looking at it. Hancock probably needed every penny he could get right now, but there were no refunds in the racing world.
‘What do we do about Hancock Salvage’s name on the car?’
‘Keep it on there. Hancock is still your sponsor. His company is still doing business. You have an obligation and it’ll give everyone something to talk about.’ Steve smiled at me. ‘You’re racing in the Festival. I’m going to make sure of it.’
We arrived home in the late afternoon. The house was still in a mess after the break-in, and the wreckage greeted us. As much as I didn’t want to bother with the thankless chore, Steve and I returned everything to its rightful place and threw out anything that had been destroyed. Neither of us were particular hungry, but Steve picked up pizza from the local takeaway. We settled in for a night in front of the TV. Dull, yes, but we were sorely in need of some dullness. The news reported a vague account of a gangland shooting in Redditch, but didn’t say who was involved. I guessed there was a police gag order in place until they had Rykov’s organization nailed down.
‘Have you spoken to Alison?’ Steve asked.
‘No.’
‘I think you’d better.’
He was right and I went up to my room and called her. I told her what had happened over the last twenty-four hours.
‘So Derek didn’t kill Alex?’ she said when I finished.
This was my biggest mistake. I’d told Alison that Derek had killed her fiancé. I’d muddied her grieving process with murder accusations. I’d made a mess for so many people. ‘No. He didn’t. I saw the video from the race. Alex crashed into Derek. There wasn’t a thing Derek could have done to prevent it.’