"Smith, Guy N - Blood Circuit" - читать интересную книгу автора (Smith Guy N)

'Are you still there?'

'Oh ... er ... yes. Sorry. I was just trying to place you. I remember your father, and. . . 'He checked himself just in time.

'And my brother,' she went on. 'Justin. A frame-up and a terrible tragedy. But that's not what I rang you about. I heard you'd quit the Seamark team.'

'I've quit racing. That's why I'm living out here.'

'Oh!' Shock and disappointment. 'I . . . I didn't realise. . . '

'How did you find me?'

'It wasn't easy.'

'You're the second caller I've had in two days. I'm having the phone taken out tomorrow.'

'It was as well that I called you tonight then, wasn't it?' She laughed softly, a sound that somehow reminded him of Yvonne. Perhaps that was the reason he did not bring the conversation to a close, and replace the receiver. He had no intention of discussing motor-racing. Neither did he want another woman in his life. Not yet, anyway.

'I've quit,' he repeated. 'For good.' Make it plain here and now. No compromises.

'I'm sorry.' 'I'm not.'

A slight pause. Slade still wondered why she had rung. He knew that he could not hang up until he had discovered her reason. Maybe it was a put-up job, Seamark using a woman to get through to him. 'I'm entered at Riverside in January.' Slade checked the retort which rose instantaneously. Hell! She had to be crazy. Motor-racing was no place for women.

Instead, he said, 'Continuing where your father left off, eh?'

'That's right. Or, more to the point, where Justin left off. I owe him that. The very least I owe him.' 'I admire you for it.'

'In other words you think I'm crazy, Mark.' She lapsed into using his first name as though she had known him all his life. They had never even met. Vaguely he remembered once having seen a photograph of her in a magazine. He could not recall the particular publication. An American one, certainly. A group standing around a car. Hammer-ton's car. She had caught his eye. He could not remember exactly what she looked like. Attractive, certainly. It was slowly coming back to him. He reminded himself once again that he was finished with both cars and women.

'I didn't say that.'

'No, but you thought it.'

'You don't realise what you're taking on. Building up hopes, then having them dashed. There's no glory in also-rans. You lose money, too.'

'I've got it to lose.'

'Apart from the cash you need a top-class driver with Formula One experience. You can rule me out. You also need mechanics capable of carrying out the IROC specifications, tuning the engine up to speeds of 160 m.p.h. plus. The Seamark team reckon they can top that.'

'Frank Wylie's as good a mechanic as any you'll find. I've taken on another guy, too. No doubt you know him. Chris Fogg.'

'The hell you have!' Mark Slade was unable to contain his surprise. A Seamark man. Another test-driver who might, given the opportunity, make it to the top. Might. He was good enough, but lacked certain qualities. Determination, for one. Fogg had been with Slade at Daytona last year. Now he was with Lee Hammerton. Stern hadn't mentioned anything about that. Maybe he didn't consider it important, his main task being to get Slade back. Slade wondered again whether this was all part of some intricate plot on the part of Seamark to get him back to the circuits. No possibility could be ruled out. All the same, his curiosity had to be satisfied.

'So if I don't drive for you, Fogg will, eh?'

'No. He'll work in the pits. There isn't time to prepare him for Riverside. If you won't drive for me, it'll have to be Steve Kilby. He's good. He's got a house full of trophies.'

'Maybe, but that won't count for much when it comes to Riverside. You can't compare this type of racing with Silverstone or Mallory.'