Free Quick by Steve Worland Page A

reply, just tucks in his shirt.
     
    ‘Look, we’re going to have to sort this out eventually —’
     
    ‘No, we don’t. I’m going to work this case on my own and you can make your own arrangements. If you uncover anything I’m more than happy for you to debrief yourself.’
     
    ‘You’re a real charmer, aren’t you?’
     
    ‘I’m just being practical. You’ve been a detective for, what—six months? You have limited experience with a case like this. You’ll just slow me down. No offence.’
     
    ‘As always, when someone says “no offence” it’s actually offensive. Wouldn’t it be easier if you just apologised for your screw-up in the lobby, we let bygones be bygones and worked together?’
     
    The Frenchman exhales. ‘You don’t get it. It’s an insult that I’m partnered with you. We’re not working together.’
     
    Billy takes this in with a resigned nod. ‘Okay then, if that’s how you want to play it.’ He pulls his cap down, opens the door and walks out.
     
    ~ * ~
     
    Screw him.
     
    Claude’s already made his mind up and Billy’s fine with that. Sure, he would have liked a helping hand from someone with more experience but he’s sure he can solve this case on his own, without any help from that pain in the arse.
     
    The Australian steps out of the Iron Rhino mobile home onto pit road. The deep throb of twenty-two turbocharged V6 power plants shake the air as the cars prepare for the qualifying session. It begins in ten minutes and Billy wants to watch it from the Iron Rhino garage, which is directly across from the motorhome. On a screen at the rear of the garage, commentator Martin Brundle tells his audience that one of the Iron Rhino drivers has come down with the flu so he won’t be running today, which means he will start from the back of the grid tomorrow. Before qualifying begins, Billy wants to check out the paddock area to get a sense of the place. His dad always said interesting stuff happens when you walk through the paddock and the old man was usually right.
     
    Billy sets off along the roadway and drinks in the sights and sounds of Formula One. Everything seems larger, brighter, more expensive and, somehow, more important than it appears on television. He knows it’s just motor racing, which is both extremely dangerous and appallingly resource intensive, but being here only confirms what he’s always suspected: it is the pinnacle of human sporting endeavour. He knows it’s a big call, but he believes it. The fact is Formula One success only comes to those who can combine the physical (drivers who can operate at peak performance for two hours while enduring 4 g of stress on their bodies) with brainpower (designers, technicians and strategists able to solve mechanical and aerodynamic problems and create winning race plans on the fly). It’s very difficult to do but effectively merging these two elements is the key to creating a successful F1 team.
     
    Could the Three Champions already be working together on the F1 circuit?
     
    Members of Formula One race teams work closely for long, intense periods under constant pressure and crushing time constraints. What better place would there be to recruit and build a group capable of robbing a couple of jewellery stores? He must keep it in mind as a possibility.
     
    He walks on, glances into the Evergreen garage, a new, small team out of Switzerland with a tiny budget compared to the heavy hitters like Ferrari and Red Bull —
     
    Ohmigod.
     
    Time slows.
     
    Billy catches sight of a tall, platinum blonde woman in a driver’s suit. In deep discussion with a stout technician, she is striking in a jolie laide kind of way. Yes, it’s a French term, the only one he remembers from the class he took in high school, and yes, he’s not loving the French at the moment with that Claude being such a prat, but the word perfectly sums up this woman: unconventionally beautiful.
     
    He doesn’t have moments like this very