‘I can’t.’
‘You can and you will, because I’m not leaving without an explanation. As I see it, you’re a guilty man. Was that guilt the reason you attended Jason’s funeral when no one else from Ragged did?’
‘Call her, Aidy,’ Dylan said. ‘Throw him to the wolves.’
‘No, don’t. Please. Let me explain.’
Nevin ran his hands through his hair. He removed his foot from the keys, picked them up and slipped them into his pocket without wiping the mud off.
‘OK. I stayed in touch with Jason after he left. I liked him. We’d go for a pint from time to time. The last few times he kept asking about the team and the operation. I thought Russell Townsend had put him up to it, but at Earls Court he asked me to help him. He said Rags was up to his neck in something shady and he wanted to check out the car and transporter. I told him I didn’t want any part of his bullshit. There’s no way Rags would cross that line.’
‘But you had second thoughts?’
Nevin nodded.
‘Because Rags has coloured outside of the lines from time to time, like when he played with loan sharks?’
‘You know about that?’
‘Nothing stays a secret forever.’
‘Yeah, well. In those dark days, when Rags got behind with his payments, the heavies weren’t shy about dropping by. That got me wondering if he was in trouble again, but I believe in Rags and I wouldn’t go behind his back. I told Jason I wouldn’t help him directly, but he could check things out himself, so I slipped him my keys at the end of the day. I said if he found anything, he was to come to me first.’
‘And did he?’
‘I don’t know. Someone killed him before he got back to me.’
I opened my mouth to ask another question when I picked up on something Nevin had said. He said that he believed in Rags and wouldn’t go behind his back. A frightening conclusion presented itself that left me nauseous.
‘Barry, don’t tell me you told Rags.’
Nevin swallowed.
‘Barry?’
‘I had to. I couldn’t go behind the man’s back. He’s my friend. I told him what I’d done. He told me not to worry about it and that he’d take care of it. Christ, do you think he killed Jason?’
I couldn’t believe Nevin’s naivety. I retreated back to my car.
‘Where are you going?’ Nevin asked.
‘Don’t let him go and don’t let him call anyone,’ I told Dylan.
‘No worries. Where you going?’
‘To talk to Rags, of course.’
Lap Thirty-Six
I reached the Ragged Racing workshop around lunchtime. Rags’ Mercedes was the only car parked out front. I pulled up alongside it and went inside. I found Rags in his office staring at the ceiling. Had he been sitting there since he’d sent everyone home?
I took that as a good sign. He was a desperate man. Desperate men made decisions from a place of weakness.
What wasn’t a good sign was that I was possibly meeting with Jason’s killer alone. He had every reason and now the opportunity to have killed Jason that night. I was keeping that titbit to myself for the moment. I had to hook Rags with a separate line first.
I leaned in through his door. ‘Got a minute?’
‘Can’t it wait, Aidy?’
‘No.’
He sat up in his seat. ‘OK. What do you want?’
‘Assurances.’
‘What assurances?’
I took that as an invite to enter his office. Instead of taking a seat, I stretched out on the sofa against the opposite wall. I was being disrespectful on purpose. I had a part to play. ‘I know you’ve been talking to Chloe Mercer about replacing me. I’m here to tell you that’s not going to happen. What also isn’t going to happen is you dumping me at the end of the season.’
‘You’ve got some nerve.’
For the first time, I saw the spark back in Rags’ eyes. Not surprising. He thought he was talking to someone he could dominate. I just grinned, reached into my pocket and tossed him a packet containing a few ounces of cocaine. It landed on his desk. Claudia had gotten me the cocaine from Custom’s supply once she’d gotten on board with our plan.
Rags eyed the packet but made no attempt to touch it. ‘What’s that?’
‘You should know. I found that in the wheel of my car. Actually, it was a lot more than that, but I just needed a sample.’
Rags picked up the resealable bag and opened it. He wetted his little finger, dabbed it in the powder and tasted it. The colour drained from his face.
‘I know what you’re doing and I want in.’
Rags spat the cocaine out. He resealed the bag and tossed it back on his desk. ‘And what’s that?’
‘Do I really have to say it?’
‘Yes.’ Rags’ voice cracked.
‘You’re transporting drugs in your cars. You’re hiding them in the tyres of the cars and when we reach the tracks, someone comes and takes the wheels. Genius, really. No one gives these transporters a second look at the border crossing. The Customs people are all dazzled by the big, shiny racecars, so it never occurs to them that it would be a Trojan horse.’
‘Except for you.’
‘Not really. I wouldn’t have guessed in a thousand years if I hadn’t noticed it leaking from one of my tyres,’ I lied. ‘I thought it was chalk dust. Dylan tried to pop the tyre and guess what came tumbling out?’
Rags said nothing.
‘It was so obvious you were up to something. You were spending money on exclusive testing and R&D like it was water, but you didn’t have the sponsorship to back it up. I’d bet you’re two hundred grand shy of balancing the books every season. Everyone thinks you’re up to something, but no one would have guessed you were a drug trafficker.’
I could have kept going, bringing Andrew Gates into the mix, but I’d be overplaying my hand. I was playing the part of the greedy driver in over his head. I wanted Rags to bring me into the fold and take me to Gates.
‘You think you’re pretty clever, don’t you?’
‘Not really. I’m lucky more than anything, but I’m clever enough to know an opportunity when I see it.’
‘And you see one here?’
‘Yeah.’
Rags shook his head in disappointment. ‘I didn’t think you were the type for this sort of thing.’
‘I could say the same about you.’
My answer forced a slight smile from Rags. ‘So you want a longer contract in return for your silence, is that it? What, three years?’
‘To start with.’
‘To start with? What more do you want? A lifetime contract?’
I shook my head. ‘No, a three-year deal will do me very nicely. We can always renegotiate at the end or I can move on. But no, I want a piece of this. I need a pension plan and what you’re doing is it. I want five grand a month. That’ll guarantee my silence.’
Rags threw back his head and laughed. ‘Christ, you must be a racing driver, because you’ve got the worst fucking timing off the track. Remember that little roadside incident at Zandvoort? That was the nail in the operation’s coffin. It’s over.’
Rags picked up the little baggie of coke and tossed it to me. It landed at my feet.
‘You should have taken more because your pension plan is worth precisely as much as you can sell that for. I’ll give you your three-year contract. Fuck it, I’ll give you ten, but Ragged Racing will be done before the end of the season. You were right. I don’t have the money to keep this team afloat. I could have gotten loans, but the problem with them is that you have to pay them back and without a sponsor, loans only delay the inevitable. I needed money without ties and the money I get from trafficking keeps this team afloat. Without it, it sinks fast. You raided the piggy bank after it was emptied.’