Free 03 - Murder in Mink by Evelyn James Page A

didn’t come home last night? Peg wants
to see if he is there. He will be of course. I’m sure of it.”
    “Perhaps we should have checked the river again.” Clara
said grabbing up her purse.
    “Don’t be cruel.” Tommy frowned at her, “Come on! Come
on! We have some cars to inspect!”
    Clara rolled her eyes at her brother.
    Brooklands race track fitted neatly into the rolling
Surrey landscape, strangely at peace with its country surroundings. Built in
1907 by Mr Locke King, a wealthy car enthusiast, the circular track lolled up
and down the rough ground and man-made hills. It was rather alien to Clara’s eyes,
these huge swathes of tarmacadam and concrete, coursing at angles and tight
turns to give the cars and drivers a good run for their money. Though the
landscape had grown up around it and removed some of its ‘newness’ it still
stood out against a backdrop of trees and fields.
    “The track is 1,000 feet wide and 2 miles, 1,350 yards in
circumference.” Tommy read off a small leaflet a man at the gates had given
them, it seemed it was too early in the morning to be worrying about tickets
and the man had waved Tommy, Clara and Peg through without asking to see them,
“The total length is 3 and a quarter miles. Now, over there were the land
rises, that’s the Byfleet, made from two huge bankings that are so tall they
tower over the roofs of nearby houses.”
    “I’m sure that delights the householders.” Clara said.
    “When the land you live on is owned by Mr Locke King you
don’t exactly have an option.” Peg added, catching Clara’s tone.
    “It says here at one point the track crosses the Wey
itself and at another it runs in the lee of a railway line. Oh and Clara,
Alcock and Brown’s Vickers Vimy aircraft they used in the World Record crossing
to America was made here.”
    “They make a lot of planes in the sheds near the track.”
Peg pointed into the distance, “The long straight is an ideal landing strip.
Ask Andrew and he will tell you the mess the Royal Flying Corps made of the
racetrack during the war.”
    They were approaching a series of white garages. Cars
were sitting idle in front with men in overalls tinkering with them.
    “Last minute touches.” Peg nodded, “If Andrew is anywhere
it will be here. He usually has garage 10.”
    “Peg, what do you make of Andrew staying out all night? I
mean, is that usual for him?” Clara asked as they threaded through scattered
tools and spare tyres.
    “He can be like that.” Peg answered carefully, “Prone to
brooding. Trouble is, I can’t say for sure if he is upset because the woman was
a nasty fraud or because she was real.”
    Clara had been thinking the same. The line of garages was
well-lit in the sunlight and it was not hard for Peg to suddenly give a cry and
point out Andrew’s Napier. It was painted a dark green and sitting on the very
edge of the garage area, between two pillars. A pair of legs stuck out from
underneath, moving slightly as their owner stretched to reach into the belly of
the beast.
    “Andrew!”
    The legs twitched and went still for a moment. Then their
owner cautiously pulled himself out from under the car. Andrew’s face was
smattered with oil and he looked as tired as Clara felt. When he stood, wiping
his hands with a cloth he only briefly looked at his sister then refused to
meet her eye.
    “I was so worried!” Peg hopped forward and flung her arms
about his neck, “Silly boy!”
    “Don’t make a fuss Peg.” Andrew brushed her away, “What
are you all doing here?”
    “Well firstly we have tickets for the race.” Clara
motioned to two slips of paper in Tommy’s hand, “But secondly, and I dare say
most importantly, we came to ensure you were here and all right.”
    Andrew gave a sullen shrug.
    “Why did you run off like that?” Peg demanded, “We were
beside ourselves! Where were you last night?”
    “I slept in the garage.” Andrew vaguely waved in the
direction of the building behind