Did Not Finish Page 5

  ‘How much do you want?’ I asked.

  ‘It’s not down to me. You’ll need to deal with Alex’s family.’

  That wasn’t going to be a fun call.

  ‘You’re making a very nice gesture here, but I don’t think they’ll be interested in receiving offers for it. I talked to Alex’s father yesterday about returning the car. He doesn’t want it back.’

  ‘I don’t want to see any part of this car back on the track next season, Myles.’

  ‘I don’t disagree. I think the family will give you the car if you ask. Have you raised any money?’

  ‘I have commitments from several of the drivers.’

  ‘It’s a shame for that money to go to waste.’

  ‘We could start a fund and put the money towards upgrading the crash team’s equipment or something.’

  Myles smiled. ‘I like that. It’s a fitting memorial.’

  And it gave me an excuse to stay close to the activities at Stowe Park.

  ‘Come back to the office,’ Myles said, ‘and let’s make some phone calls.’

  Eva Beecham fixed me with a disapproving glare when I followed Myles into the administration building. Myles diffused the situation quickly.

  ‘Aidy is putting a fund together in Alex’s name and I think we should help. Pull out the list of registrants for the Clark Paints Championship and we’ll make some calls.’

  Eva printed off a list of drivers with their contact information. The list consisted of names, addresses, phone numbers and emergency contacts. Alex’s was there alongside Derek’s and my own. It also listed the name and number for emergency contacts. Next to Alex’s home address was his father’s name and mobile phone number.

  We decided amongst us that it was best the money was sent care of Myles and Eva. Any donation was fine, but we would push for a donation matching a race entry fee, which was two hundred pounds. Getting that from every person seemed steep, but it was possible considering the emotional weight attached to the request. Every driver would like to think others would cough up the price of a race entry if they should die on the track. With two hundred multiplied by just the forty drivers registered to the series, we were looking at an impressive sum.

  ‘I’ll call Alex’s father to get the go ahead,’ Myles said.

  ‘You should call Pit Lane magazine, Motorsport News and the TV stations about what we’re doing,’ Eva said. ‘They should talk to you two about this.’

  I liked the idea of the press attention, specifically from anyone at Redline. I wanted to see the uncut footage from the race.

  For the next couple of hours, the three of us called dozens of drivers from across the country. The support was fantastic. About two-thirds agreed to donate the price of a race entry and none but a distinct minority refused to donate anything. It was a fulfilling, yet draining experience. I hung up on my last call and sat back in my seat. Eva was smiling at me.

  Myles finished his call. ‘Aidy, that was Alex’s father. He’d like to meet with you tomorrow to talk about the fund-raising and the car. I said that would be OK. If it’s a problem, give him a call back.’

  ‘No, that’ll be OK.’

  Myles handed me a post-it note with a phone number, an address and two p.m. circled.

  ‘Your father would be very proud of what you’re doing.’

  ‘Thanks,’ I said and wished someone had done something like this for him. Dad had died without receiving his Formula One signing bonus or taking out a life insurance policy.

  The door opened and Derek Deacon walked in. He smiled at us. I felt like we were being sized up by a shark.

  Derek’s appearance unsettled Myles and Eva. Despite being on their own property, they looked as if they’d been caught stealing. They didn’t have anything to feel guilty about. None of us did, but I tensed up along with them.

  ‘Eva, I got a message that you called. I was in the area and thought I’d drop by. What’s going on?’

  Even though the question was aimed at Eva, Derek’s gaze was fixed on me.

  I returned his gaze. I’d been glad when Eva had called Derek. He, more than anyone, had reason to give something back after he’d taken so much.

  ‘We’re putting together a fund in memory of Alex,’ she said.

  ‘That’s nice,’ Derek said in a sneering tone. ‘Whose idea was that?’

  ‘Aidy’s,’ Myles said.

  ‘That’s very good of you.’

  I shrugged.

  ‘I’d like to do my bit. How much is everyone putting in?’

  ‘The price of a race entry,’ I said.

  Derek smirked. ‘I like that. I’ll tell you what. I’ll go one better. I’ll donate my prize money for winning the championship.’

  The championship winner received a thousand pounds. Derek looked to be trying to buy his innocence.

  ‘Are you sure?’ Myles said.

  ‘Deadly,’ he said turning his attention to Myles then back to me. ‘I don’t race for the money.’

  ‘That’s very generous,’ I said.

  Derek shrugged the compliment away. ‘I’m a generous kind of guy. See you at the banquet,’ he said on his way out.

  It was a nice performance. He was responsible for Alex’s death and he was acting magnanimous. His philanthropic gesture would get back to the racing community. He was going to come out smelling like a rose.

  It was getting dark, so I stood up. ‘Look, I’d better go. I need to settle up at Chicane’s before they close.’

  Myles shook my hand before seeing me out.

  By the time I got back to Chicane’s, Chris and Paul had boxed up my order. I paid them and carried the purchases out to the Capri. Derek was leaning against the driver’s door.

  I unlocked the boot and put the box inside. As I came around to the driver’s side, Derek made no move to stand aside.

  ‘That’s a really decent thing you’ve masterminded,’ he said. ‘I didn’t realize you were so philanthropic.’

  Masterminded was an unusual choice of word. Philanthropy is never masterminded. I didn’t point out his poor choice of words.

  ‘It seemed the right thing to do.’

  Derek nodded his agreement. ‘I saw you and Alex chatting on race day. You looked very chummy. I didn’t know you two were so tight.’

  ‘We weren’t.’

  ‘So why the big effort?’

  ‘I know what it’s like to lose someone close.’

  ‘That’s right, your mum and dad. I remember your dad well. I raced against him here in Formula Fords. Did you know that?’

  I shook my head.

  ‘Nice guy. Terrible what happened to your parents. It just goes to show you can’t avoid accidents. Your parents couldn’t and Alex couldn’t.’ Derek stepped out from in front of my driver’s door and opened it for me. As I slid into the seat, he leaned in close and whispered, ‘Careful how you go, Aidy. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you too.’

  I’d just received my first warning.

  Lap Seven

  Alex’s parents lived on a tree-lined street in an upscale neighbourhood in Guildford. They lived in an elegant Edwardian era detached house with a double garage and U-shaped gravel driveway. I parked Steve’s Capri alongside the familiar Range Rover I’d seen Mr Fanning drive to race meetings.

  Mr Fanning stood waiting for me on the doorstep. He took my hand and pumped it two-handed. His eyes shone with unspilled tears. ‘Thanks for coming.’

  ‘My pleasure,’ I said.

  He led me into the living room. It was tastefully furnished, if a little dated. Pictures of Alex ranging from when he was a toddler up to very recent covered a table underneath the window. Not one of the photos showed him racing.

  Alison sat on the sofa with her arm around Mrs Fanning. She looked up and gave me a half smile, but Mrs Fanning kept her gaze aimed at the carpet. Alison was an unexpected and unwanted surprise. I knew my presence would be upsetting to the Fannings. I didn’t need to upset Alex’s fiancée too.

/>   ‘This is Adrian Westlake,’ Mr Fanning said.

  ‘Call me Aidy,’ I replied.

  ‘He’s one of Alex’s racing friends.’

  Mrs Fanning tore her gaze away from the ground to look at me. She murmured a hello before rising to her feet. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I have some things to do.’

  She kept it together until she reached the stairs, then broke into sobs. Alison went to go to her, but Mr Fanning shook his head as he sat alongside Alison.

  ‘Myles says you’re spearheading a collection to buy Alex’s car,’ Mr Fanning said.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Why?’ Alison asked.

  ‘To make sure the car isn’t raced again. It’s a mark of respect.’

  ‘I don’t think it’s in any condition to be raced,’ Mr Fanning said.

  ‘You’d be surprised. The car could be restored.’

  ‘I’m not sure anyone would want to race the car after what happened to Alex,’ Alison said.

  I didn’t want to tell her how many people would. I wouldn’t be surprised if the Fannings had received calls from the vulture element already.

  ‘What would you do with the car?’ Mr Fanning asked.

  There was no way of saying it without it sounding crass or callous. I was glad Mrs Fanning wasn’t in the room to hear it. ‘I would have it compacted to make sure nobody could use it.’

  I said nothing about wanting the car so I could prove that Derek had killed Alex. ‘The car has little residual value, but I’m willing to pay a price you’re happy with. We’re trying to make something good out of something tragic.’

  ‘How much money have you raised so far?’ Alison asked.

  ‘Around six thousand. An appeal will go out in Pit Lane magazine and Motorsport News for others to contribute. I’m hoping we can double that figure.’

  ‘That’s more than the car is worth,’ Mr Fanning said. ‘What would you do with the excess?’

  ‘I spoke to Myles about using the money on safety upgrades at the track. It might just save a life.’

  Mr Fanning and Alison exchanged a look. She nodded.

  ‘We talked about what to do with Alex’s car before you came over,’ Mr Fanning said. ‘We decided we don’t want any money for it. It belonged to Alex. He bought it. Taking the money would be pointless. You can have the car with our blessing.’

  Alison took Mr Fanning’s hand and both of them smiled at me. Tears welled up and robbed me of the ability to say thank you. Seeing these people act with such grace after what had been done to them was too much.

  I wasn’t the only one with tears in my eyes. Alison’s eyes glistened.

  ‘There’s something we want to do,’ Mr Fanning said. ‘Motor racing robbed my wife and me of our son. Alison lost her husband-to-be. We should be crusading for the end of motorsport, but I know how important racing was to Alex. He knew the risks and still he raced. I can be upset by what happened, but I can’t be bitter.’

  He was talking about Alex’s death in terms of an accident. Did he still not know of Derek’s death threat?

  ‘In that spirit, the last race of the series will be the Alex Fanning memorial race. Myles has given it the OK. There’ll be a special prize fund for the winner each year.’

  I smiled and said it was a great idea, but I didn’t like it. I foresaw Derek winning next year’s race. The idea of him winning a race honouring the person he killed was abhorrent.

  ‘Vic Hancock has offered to dispose of the car,’ Mr Fanning said. ‘He has the facility and he’s more than happy to take care of matters for you.’

  I couldn’t let that happen before I got to see the car. ‘No, I’d like to do it. I know several of the other drivers would like to be involved. It would be our way of saying goodbye to Alex.’

  Mr Fanning smiled and nodded his agreement. ‘You understand more than most about what we’re going through. I can’t imagine what it must have been like to lose your parents.’

  ‘And I can’t imagine what it’s like to lose a son.’

  ‘But we all understand an untimely loss.’

  There was no dispute there.

  Mr Fanning held out an envelope. ‘Myles asked for a release giving the car to you.’

  I took the envelope. I had my first piece of evidence. ‘Thank you. I really appreciate this.’

  ‘No, thank you. You’re looking out for my son even after none of us can. I appreciate that.’

  I nodded and rose to my feet. ‘I should be going. I’ve intruded enough on your time. Please pass my condolences on to your wife.’

  Mr Fanning stood, squeezed out a pained yet grateful smile and shook my hand.

  ‘I should be going too,’ Alison said.

  ‘I’ll run you over to the railway station,’ Mr Fanning said.

  ‘No, that’s OK,’ she said. ‘Do you mind giving me a ride to the station, Aidy?’

  The request surprised me. ‘Sure. No problem.’

  ‘I’ll just say goodbye to Laura before we go.’

  ‘I’ll wait for you in the car,’ I said.

  Mr Fanning insisted on shaking my hand again and telling me what a great guy I was. The atmosphere inside the house was stifling and I had to get out. I wanted Alex’s car for all the right reasons, but I was deceiving these people. I thanked him one last time and walked over to the Capri.

  The blast of afternoon wind cleared the nausea that had been building. I sucked in the cool air. It cleansed me of my guilt.

  I got behind the wheel. The car was cold and uninviting. I gunned the engine and turned on the heater. It was a couple of minutes before the warmth spilled over me. I released a relieved breath.

  Alison stepped from the house a few minutes later. She wiped at her eyes with a tissue as she climbed into the car. She kept her gaze dead ahead.

  ‘Which station?’

  ‘London Road.’

  I pulled onto the street and accelerated away. Alison looked back over her shoulder at the Fanning’s house. When I turned onto the next street, she turned around and sighed.

  I felt for Alison. She was trapped in an awkward situation. She was a final connection to the Fanning’s son, but the connection that made them family no longer existed. Alex was the glue that had tied them together. Without him, there was no bond.

  ‘Do you think you’ll stay in touch with the Fannings?’

  ‘For now, yes. We need each other. Who knows in the future? It depends on how we heal. You know better than all of us. Do you ever get over something like this?’

  ‘No. Not really. Alex will always be a part of you. You’ll always be reminded of something he said or did. You’ll wish he was around when something great or terrible happens. It won’t stop you from living your life, but you’ll never let him go.’

  We said nothing after that. I drove, threading my way through the streets of Guildford over to the London Road railway station. As I stopped the car, a train slowed as it headed into the station.

  ‘That’s my train,’ she said.

  ‘OK,’ I said. ‘Have a safe journey home.’

  The station announcer’s voice drifted across the air. ‘The three-twenty service for Waterloo is now approaching.’

  I waited for Alison to move, but she remained seated.

  ‘You’re going to miss your train.’

  She said nothing.

  We watched the people climb aboard the train. It paused for a moment for that one final passenger and when that person didn’t arrive, its diesel engine growled and it pulled out of the station.

  She waited until the last carriage passed the end of the platform before speaking. ‘Why are you going to all this trouble?’

  She fixed me with an expression that wasn’t hostile, but was certainly demanding.

  ‘I guess I understand loss,’ I said, sticking to my cover story.

  Her expression tightened, squeezing the softness from her face. ‘I get that, but it seems a little excessive.’

  ‘Alex was a friend.’

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p; She nodded, but her tension failed to leave her. ‘Funny, I don’t remember Alex ever mentioning you. What were you, pen pals?’

  There was no point in deceiving her anymore. ‘You’re right, Alex and I weren’t really friends. From what I knew of him, he was a nice guy and for that, I liked him. I talked to him just before the race. It might sound stupid, but we shared a guy moment. He told me about getting married to you and his plans. Two hours later he was dead. One moment Alex had a future, the next he didn’t. It affected me. I had to do something.’

  I left out the part about Alex retiring from racing as a wedding gift to her. She was putting on a tough act to get me to talk, but her façade was eggshell thin. It would shatter in a second if she knew. I didn’t know anyone who could handle the news that a loved one was killed an hour from walking away from the thing that killed them. To tell her would be a cruel punishment.

  What I said seemed to work. She sank into her seat and the softness returned to her face. She looked like herself again, except sad. I wished I could put a smile on her face instead of pain.

  ‘So that’s why you’re doing this.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘It has nothing to do with Derek Deacon saying he’d kill Alex? I saw you and Mr Beecham arguing at the church.’

  It was stupid on my part to assume she hadn’t heard about the death threat. There was no way Alex could shield her from it. ‘OK, it does.’

  ‘So you think Derek killed Alex?’

  ‘I don’t know for sure.’

  ‘Don’t give me that.’

  I was trying to be kind. It wasn’t working. Alison had probably had enough kindness in recent days. She needed someone to be honest with her.

  ‘Yes, I think he killed Alex. I can’t prove it, but I’m trying to. Derek shouldn’t be allowed to get away with it.’

  We were silent with each other. Only the drone of the engine filled the void.

  ‘I didn’t think you knew,’ I said.

  ‘I didn’t have much choice. Everyone was eager to let me in on the news. Like I wanted to hear my fiancé had been marked for death.’

  ‘Did you say anything to Alex?’

  ‘Yes. He told me not to worry about it.’ She shook her head. ‘He said none of it mattered and the best man would win.’