‘Do you know how bloody close you came to ballsing up this operation?’ Brennan asked.
I didn’t. I just knew how close I’d come to dying. Another twenty seconds and the crusher would have squeezed all the free space from inside the Renault. When the crusher opened up, we re-emerged into a war zone. While Steve, Dylan and I thought we were living our last moments, four of the Russian’s men had lived theirs. The armed response team had killed them. They lay in various, untidy piles riddled with bullets. It looked to be touch and go for another of the Russians. Blood pumped from a big wound in his chest and the cop working on him struggled to stem the flow. Derek and his boys were OK and in cuffs. Hancock was gone. The police had slapped a bulletproof vest on him, put him in a car and taken him out of there before Steve, Dylan and I had been cut from the crippled Renault. Rykov had been wounded, but not seriously. Uniformed, plain clothes and armed police littered the salvage yard in large numbers.
When Brennan had brought me to the station, he stuck me in the interview room and left me for an hour before attempting to talk to me. The backlash of almost dying a nasty death was euphoria. I was amped up on the simple notion that I had a tomorrow and another one after that. My emotions pinballed off each other. I went from laughing one second to crying the next. Once the elation burnt itself out, Brennan came for my statement.
There was no pantomime or messing around with procedure this time. Brennan went by the book. He recorded the interview. Another detective sat in the room with us while I spilled everything to Brennan from the night before Alex died to the police’s eleventh hour arrival. Brennan had to change the tape twice before I was finished.
The other detective left with the tapes to get them transcribed. Now Brennan and I could really talk.
‘Did I get any of it right?’ I asked.
Brennan cracked a small smile. ‘Not much, but I’ll give you marks for originality.’
‘You could have made things a lot easier by telling me what you were up to.’
‘Yeah, like I was going to confide in you about a six month undercover operation. I tried to be as clear as I could that you were on the wrong track and you needed to back off. You chose not to listen.’
‘You didn’t do a very good job.’
Brennan swung his arms wide. ‘What can I say? Guilty as charged.’
I wondered how guilty. That smile said a lot. Brennan could have done more to set me straight, but he’d let me believe in the myths surrounding Derek, concoct my own theories and charge off on my fool’s errand. My misguided beliefs had done him a favour. It worked to his advantage to have me as a fly in everyone’s ointment. My interference made things happen.
Suddenly, I became aware of my stink. I reeked. I’d sweated through my clothes. First, from fear, and then from my survivor’s high. I wouldn’t bother washing them. I was burning the lot. Brennan had to have noticed and it was kind of him not to mention it. I wrapped the blanket the paramedics had given me at the salvage yard even tighter around me.
‘If I’m going to be your star witness, you have to tell me how wrong I’ve been.’
‘Valentin Rykov is Russian mob. He’s been in the UK since the nineties. Glasnost did wonders for the Russian mob in Western Europe. They set up shop running drugs, girls, protection, human trafficking, loan sharking and anything else you care to name. Rykov had his fingers in a lot of dirty, yet traditional, criminal pies. The trading in phantom cars was just one string to his bow.’
‘Phantom cars?’
‘One of the few facts you were right about. The conversion of insurance write-offs into new cars.’
‘He couldn’t have made much off each car. The depreciation must have killed most of the profit.’
‘That was where Vic Hancock came in. You guessed right about his money troubles. He was stretched thin, forcing him to secure funding outside the High Street banks. Rykov provided Hancock a way of paying back his debt and making some money. The great thing about Hancock was he gave Rykov the complete network to exploit. What you saw was one of two dozen operations. They might only make five to ten grand a car, but when dozens of cars are going through his dealerships every week, it stacks up.’
‘At least we know the British car industry isn’t dead.’
Brennan laughed. ‘It might be after tonight.’
‘So this is a pretty big coup for you.’
‘Only if we can get a conviction. That’s been our problem in the past. Witnesses tend to disappear before they see a witness box.’
‘Hancock is going to make a pretty big witness.’
‘He’s massive. Landing him was as important as catching Rykov in the act.’
It explained why Hancock had been the first person out of there when Brennan and his swarm of cops raided the place. Rykov might have had his hooks into Hancock, but that was to the police’s advantage. Hancock was so entangled in Rykov’s operations that his testimony would destroy the Russian and probably a large chunk of the Russian mob.
‘The hope is that bringing Rykov down on this front will give witnesses the courage to come forward to testify on his other business dealings.’
‘And you owe all this success to Derek Deacon.’
‘Afraid so. He proved to be a great informant.’
I couldn’t believe Derek was a police grass, but it explained his behaviour tonight. Taking Rykov’s gun from him when they captured Steve probably saved Steve’s life. Rykov would have put a bullet through Steve’s skull to make his point. Derek’s pleading to take care of Steve, Dylan and me himself was another attempt to save our lives. He might have operated the crusher, but he’d slow-played it in order to buy us time. I had to give it to Derek, he was a good informant.
However, his informant status wouldn’t do his reputation any good with Morgan, Tommy, Strickland or any of Morgan’s mechanics. He was selling them down the river along with Hancock and Rykov. At this point, they didn’t know it was Derek who’d screwed them, but they’d find out in court.
‘I suppose Derek’s going to be under lock and key for a while.’
‘Good news for everyone in racing, Derek won’t be around to defend his title for a year or three.’
If at all. Brennan didn’t have to say it. I knew Derek would be going into a witness protection program. Even if Rykov went down for life, there’d always be a price on Derek’s head. No matter where the police sent him, he’d never step foot on a race circuit again. It would be the first place Rykov’s people would look. It meant Derek’s tenth title would be his last. His motor racing career was over. I almost felt sorry for him.
‘How did you recruit Derek anyway?’
‘Our intelligence pointed to an association between Rykov and Hancock. Our guys picked up Derek on a delivery run. We made him an offer he couldn’t refuse.’
This was where I’d been completely wrong. Brennan wasn’t Derek’s bent cop. Derek was Brennan’s informant. Brennan couldn’t stop laughing when I explained during my statement what I thought I’d witnessed at the Green Man pub.
‘I guess I owe you an apology over the bent cop remark.’
Brennan smiled. ‘Not really. When Derek told me what you thought, I told him to play it up. It was a nice misinterpretation that worked in my favour.’
‘When you busted Dylan and me, you weren’t looking out for Morgan’s workshop, were you?’
Brennan shook his head. ‘You were becoming a bigger and bigger pain in the arse. I was protecting my investment. Derek saw you staking out the place when he dropped off a shipment. I knew you’d come back and I needed to stop you from screwing up my good work. I hoped the bad cop act and a night in the cells would scare you off. It might be a good idea if you dropped the Boy Scout act in future. It’s going to get you killed.’
‘I wouldn’t have had to if you’d helped out there. You left it a little late with the rescue.’
‘You brought that on yourself. Tonight wasn’t our night to spring the trap on Rykov. Derek spotted you while en route and called in with the panic message. We had to scramble to put together a rescue mission. It takes time to assemble an armed response team. We didn’t want a fire fight. We couldn’t lose Derek, Hancock or Rykov.’
‘Or us?’
‘Or you and your friends.’
Yeah, me and my expendable friends. ‘So that’s that,’ I said.
‘Pretty much.’
‘As far as the official story goes.’
‘And what’s that supposed to mean?’
‘Derek took his undercover status a little too far, don’t you think? He busted up my grandfather’s business and tried to burn it. He turned over my home. He beat the crap out of the poor bastard who works at Chicane’s.’
‘We won’t mention your criminal acts such as breaking and entering or your grandfather breaking someone’s arm.’
‘Don’t try to scare me off.’
Brennan put his hands up. ‘OK, I’ll talk to Derek. It sounds like he crossed a few lines. Get me a list of damages and I’ll see what I can do about making amends.’
‘And Alex Fanning?’
‘Drop it.’
‘No. Your man killed someone. He might be your star witness, but I’ll be damned if I’ll let you sweep Alex’s murder under the carpet.’
‘You don’t know what you’re talking about,’ Brennan said.
‘Don’t I? We both know what he did, but no one will say it. It’s going to look pretty bad if your star witness is also a murderer.’
Brennan stood up. ‘You’re tired and overwrought. We’ve booked you a hotel room for the night. I’ll have someone take you there. Your friends will be waiting for you.’ Brennan checked his watch. ‘The hospital should have discharged them by now.’
Brennan stood and crossed to the door. I jumped up and blocked his path. ‘You’re not going to brush me aside that easily.’
He grabbed my arm to usher me out the door. I shook it off.
‘Time to let it go, Aidy.’
‘No.’
Brennan got up in my face, then sighed. He settled on the corner of the table and pointed at my chair. He waited for me to sit down. ‘OK, you win. I’m going to give it to you straight. One, because you deserve the truth and two, because I’m tired of your sodding crusade. It’s about time you saw something.’
Brennan led me out of the interview room and into a briefing room. Rows of tables and chairs lined the room facing a dais and whiteboard. A large, wall-mounted TV peered down at the empty seats.
‘Find a seat and wait,’ Brennan told me. ‘You’ll want to be up front for this.’
A minute later, he returned with a videotape. I didn’t have to ask what was on the tape. He loaded it into a player.
‘This is the unedited feed of the race. It’s the raw footage shot by the cameras that captured the crash. OK?’
‘I thought the tape had been destroyed.’
‘It was. Redline destroyed the tape at Mr Fanning’s request out of respect for his son. I kept a copy because I thought I might need it.’
Brennan hit play then killed the lights in the room.
The first shot stared down the straight from Barrack Hill to Wilts. Jostling for position, the Formula Fords streamed towards the camera with Derek and Alex leading the pack. They were only a few feet apart. Alex had the outside line. Derek had the inside, but he was running a little behind. He needed Alex’s cooperation if he was going to make it through the bend cleanly. The two of them bore down on Barrack Hill with everyone else chasing them.
The images propelled me back to that afternoon to relive the experience. My stomach clenched at the knowledge of what was coming next. If Derek had been true to his threat, he would move across to slot his wheels inside Alex’s. Unconsciously, I held my breath.
Then it happened, but not as I’d believed.
Something went wrong with Alex’s car. The car twitched, the rear end kicking out as if struck by an invisible force. His car jerked right, striking Derek’s car. Their wheels tangled and became untangled when Alex’s car rode over the top of Derek’s. The impact kicked Alex’s car onto two wheels for a fraction of a second. When it came down, it slewed hard left and off the track. Instinctively, the cameraman latched onto Alex’s car careening off the circuit. He followed Alex’s path all the way into the concrete wall. The crunching impact spat Alex’s car back across the track. It ground to a halt with Alex slumped forward inside the cockpit, unmoving.
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
M
onday 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.