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I eyed my car from the nose and crouched down so I was face to face with it. The wide track of the front suspension with the big black tires, sleek nose and squat radiator pods was a gorgeous sight. I made my sweep of the car, taking in its smooth lines and elegant construction. I trusted Steve and Dylan’s expertise with my life — figuratively and literally — but I was only comfortable getting behind the wheel once I’d made sure everything met my standards. I checked the joints, made sure push rods and tracking arms were perfectly centred, looked for leaks, pulled on the wheels to make sure there was no play in the bearings, and ensured every cable connection was tight and tied back. I worked my way around to the rear of the car. This was the perspective a following driver had of my car. I hoped a lot of drivers would have this view at the weekend. I went over the gearbox and rear suspension. Everything looked to be in its place. Then I spotted a chink in the perfection. It was subtle and easily missed. In the excitement of race day, I wouldn’t have noticed it.

It was the same problem I’d noticed with Alex’s car. I pulled the drop cloth off Alex’s car and stood behind it, comparing it to the Mygale.

‘What are you doing?’ Steve asked.

‘Come have a look at this,’ I said.

Steve and Dylan crowded around the rear of Alex’s car. I pointed at the right rear wishbone mounting with the bolt placed in upside-down.

‘You see that? That bolt could have fallen out during the race.’

‘I know. We’ve been over this,’ Steve said.

I grabbed the bent tracking arm dangling from the upright. ‘We never found the bolt that should have connected the tracking arm to the gearbox mounting.’

‘We went over that too. It could have been lost during transport or the crash. I’m still surprised we found as much of the car as we did.’

Dylan was frowning. A look of disappointment had darkened his expression. He saw that something had lit me up and it couldn’t be good. ‘Aidy, where are you going with this?’

I replayed the tape of Alex’s crash in my mind. The twitch that caused the crash still bothered me. It could have been debris on the track that initiated it, but it was just as likely to have been a mechanical failure.

‘What if the bolt holding the tracking arm in place had been upside-down too? If it had fallen out during the race, the rear wheel would have steered itself and Alex would have had no control over the car.’

‘That’s possible,’ Steve said. ‘So what?’

‘If it was done on purpose, that would be murder.’

‘Oh, c’mon, Aidy,’ Steve said. ‘It’s over. We know Derek didn’t do it. Maybe Jo-Jo or Alex screwed up and put the bolts in wrong. If one fell out, it’s negligence at best.’

‘There’s nothing here, Aidy. Drop it,’ Dylan said. ‘Derek is innocent.’

‘Who said anything about Derek?’ I crossed over to the Mygale. I pointed to the right rear suspension. ‘Got any idea how that happened?’

Just like the bolts on Alex’s car, the bolts connecting the left and right rear tracking arms to the gearbox mountings were inserted bolt head down.

‘Either of you two do that?’ I asked.

‘Jesus, what are you saying?’ Steve demanded. ‘You know damn well we wouldn’t do that. We know how dangerous that is.’

‘So did Alex and so does Jo-Jo. They wouldn’t make a mistake like that. Who worked on the rear corners tonight?’

‘I made everyone go ‘round and do a spanner check,’ Steve said, ‘but no one had the chance to swap out the bolts.’

‘Yes, they did,’ Dylan conceded. ‘There were a couple of occasions before Aidy came home where we weren’t all together or watching what everyone else was doing.’

‘When?’ Steve asked.

‘When you were giving the Fannings a tour of the place, Alison and her dad had the car to themselves. When you and I were showing Alison’s dad how to use the quick-lift, Mr Fanning was working on the car alone. I’m sure there were other times too.’

‘So any one of them could have done it?’ I asked.

‘Shit,’ Steve said and nodded.

‘Who are you saying did this?’ Dylan demanded. ‘The Fannings? Alison’s dad? Alison?’

I didn’t answer. I was pointing the finger at these people and as much as I didn’t want to believe one of them did this, it had to be one of them. Possibly, even Alison.

‘You can’t be wrong about this,’ Steve said. ‘Are you sure?’

‘I am. Look at the nuts.’

‘Christ,’ Steve muttered. ‘The Nylocs are gone.’

Whoever had flipped the bolts had gone the extra mile of replacing the Nyloc safety nuts with ordinary nuts. A normal nut wouldn’t stand up to the car’s vibration and would eventually fly off. This was sabotage.

‘What do you want to do?’ Dylan asked.

‘I need to see the tape of the race again.’

I ran up the stairs to the crow’s-nest and dug out Brennan’s business card. I called his mobile number.

‘Do you have the videotape?’ I asked.

‘Do you know what time it is?’ Brennan moaned.

‘Just answer the question.’

Brennan sighed. ‘Yes.’

‘Can you play it?’

‘It’s at the office.’

‘I can wait.’

‘You can kiss my arse, son. What the hell is going on?’

‘Alex was murdered.’ Before Brennan could object, I cut him off. ‘I helped you get your man. Now you’re going to help me get mine. Alex was killed and someone is trying to kill me. Now get that tape.’

It was half an hour before Brennan called me back. Steve and Dylan waited for the call along with me.

‘OK, I’ve got the tape queued up. Now what?’

I told Brennan what to look for and he played the tape. I heard the soundtrack coming off the tape over the phone while Brennan watched. The drone of engines filled the air. Then they stopped and started again as Brennan rewound and replayed the tape. The sound of the race stopped and Brennan came back on the line.

‘I can’t see clearly, Aidy, but it backs up what you’re saying. I can have the audio-visual tech digitize the tape and clean it up. Then we’ll be able to see more definitively.’

I let out a breath. It was true. This was how Alex had been killed. It explained the missing bolt on Alex’s car and why Alex’s car had bucked before veering into Derek’s car. The bolt had fallen out. The moment it fell out, Alex had become a passenger with no control over the car’s direction. It was all over as soon as Alex touched wheels with Derek.

I’d lived through one blissful day believing Alex’s death had been accident. It hadn’t been satisfying, but it had been reassuring that Alex hadn’t died at someone else’s hand. I should have known the feeling wouldn’t last.

‘Detective, I’m going to need your help in the morning.’

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.’