San Marino had clearly made up his mind on this but, to ensure collective responsibility, he cast a quick glance around the room as a form of consultation. Facing forward again San Marino said: ‘I believe in the interests of equity, the Council would be so moved — but I would add one proviso. That a grant of more time depends entirely on our knowing the name or names in question.’
Straker, sitting against the long wall as before, climbed quickly to his feet and leant forwards to whisper into Brogan’s ear. The barrister’s head could soon be seen nodding.
‘Mr President,’ said Brogan as Straker sat down, ‘my client would like to do so by asking for confirmation from someone here in this meeting.’
San Marino’s expression conveyed some surprise. ‘Very well, Mr Brogan, but through me — through the Chair — if you please.’
The room fell silent.
‘Thank you, Mr President. If Mr Van Der Vaal is not prepared to identify and reveal the source of the leak inside Massarella, will he at least confirm the person who my client now believes was the contact point at Ptarmigan?’
Straker looked straight at Van Der Vaal, who seemed momentarily thrown.
‘Well, Eugene?’ asked San Marino over the continuing noise. ‘Will you?’
Van Der Vaal remained looking uneasy. Leaning to his left, he conferred quickly with the rather stiff Italian-looking fellow beside him. The Massarella boss soon straightened up, looked at San Marino, and nodded hesitantly.
Brogan addressed the chair. ‘Very well, Mr President. Was the Ptarmigan contact … a Ms Charlotte Grant?’
The room burbled again, but sounded like it wasn’t quite sure why. No one present was likely to have heard the name before. But at least a name sounded a little more specific. In search of the next instalment of this story, all eyes around the table soon turned to Eugene Van Der Vaal.
‘Well, Eugene,’ said San Marino. ‘Are you prepared to answer?’
The Massarella boss looked stunned, as if he was trying to weigh up the consequences to him of any possible response.
‘Well?’ asked the President again. ‘Will you give the Council an answer?’
Van Der Vaal conferred again with the thin man beside him.
‘Eugene, a Yes or No will do.’
Van Der Vaal sat up straight and looked at San Marino. Finally, after a long pause, the Massarella boss gave the shortest and sharpest of nods.
Chatter broke out around the table. At last, they thought — this might be information that could move things on.
‘Mr President,’ stated Brogan loudly over the chatter filling the room. ‘Thank you. I hardly need point out that this has changed almost everything to do with this case. Mr Van Der Vaal’s confirmation has provided genuinely new information to my client. Furthermore, this throws up endless questions,’ he said, increasing his volume to emphasize the point. ‘How is it that Mr Van Der Vaal, personally, knows the name of the Ptarmigan contact? How does he know? When did he know? If Mr Van Der Vaal knew, why did he not notify Ptarmigan immediately that his team’s IP might be being divulged to another team? Indeed, why is this the first time we,’ he said with a sweep of his hand round the room, ‘know anything about it? Most obviously, though, why did Mr Van Der Vaal not do anything to stop it? More particularly, if Mr Van Der Vaal knew all about this, and didn’t do anything to stop it, what was his role in the leaks? Mr President, I could go on — these are only the questions I have come up with off the top of my head. We now request, as mentioned before, the opportunity for Ptarmigan to reassess its response and reposition its entire defence to the charges made against it by Massarella.’
‘Hang on a minute — not so fast, Mr Brogan,’ said Joss MacRae, sniping in from the end of the table. ‘This identification of a Ptarmigan employee involved as a contact with Massarella proves that there is a case to answer. Moreover, your acceptance of Mr Van Der Vaal’s confirmation of this name shows your client’s submission to this hearing to have been wholly incomplete — inaccurate — if not misleading.’
There was a new burst of mutterings around the table.
‘Not so, sir. Not so,’ said Brogan firmly over the noise. ‘Mr President, there’s an exceptionally good reason why my client could not have been expected to identify Ms Grant as the contact point with Massarella.’
MacRae’s face showed a sneer. ‘And what is that, Mr Brogan?’
‘Because, Mr President, Ms Charlotte Grant … is dead.’
The noise became tumultuous.
Chat and exclamation was coming from every part of the room, even from the assistants and juniors on the chairs against the back wall of the Chamber. No one had expected anything like this.
‘I hasten to add, Mr President,’ said Brogan over the noise, ‘that Charlotte Grant died in circumstances completely unrelated to Formula One.’
San Marino held up his hand to try and calm the chatter.
‘That’s as maybe, Mr Brogan,’ he said loudly. ‘However … however … thank you … However, we cannot escape the fact that we seem to have confirmed this afternoon — at least — that a member of Ptarmigan staff was in contact with Massarella. Her being deceased in no way removes the allegation or the responsibility, Mr Brogan.’
‘My client accepts that completely — in principle — Mr President. But I respectfully submit that Ptarmigan could not have been aware of this fact and so my client has not — and could not have — prepared a defence with this individual in mind. As a result, I respectfully submit that no decision that you or this Council might make on this discussion — today — could possibly be regarded as fully-informed, equitable, or just.’
San Marino squinted in one eye as he considered the situation. ‘I, as President of this body, am anxious above all to ensure fairness and equity. I am prepared to acknowledge your request on behalf of your client, Mr Brogan. But — but — I must ask you to re-present to this Council at the earliest possible opportunity. How long do you believe your client will need to reorganize its defence?’
Brogan conferred with Nazar.
‘Sir, when is the FIA Council next due to meet?’
‘We have a meeting at the RAC Club in Pall Mall, London, on the Monday after the London Grand Prix. In two weeks’ time.’
‘In that case, Mr President, might I suggest we have the opportunity of re-presenting to you then?’
‘Agreed. We will continue with the enquiry into the allegations of Ptarmigan’s industrial espionage on August 9th. This hearing is adjourned until then.’
FIFTY-ONE
Confused and dismayed were the only ways to describe the Ptarmigan delegation as they returned to their room in the FIA headquarters.
‘Holy crap,’ said Sabatino the moment they had shut the door behind them and were alone. ‘How the fuck has this — whatever this is — happened?’ she blasted in a more agitated state than Straker had ever seen her before. ‘This is going to cost me the Championship, for fuck’s sake.’ Straker thought she was about to fly at him as she had in Monza.
‘Indeed, what the hell is going on here?’ asked Nazar accusatorily of Brogan and Straker. ‘Where the hell did this Charlie Grant stuff come from? Are we completely out of control?’
Straker spoke calmly, trying to diffuse the tension in the room: ‘Not at all,’ he said with more conviction than he probably felt. ‘Tahm, you’ve seen the work that’s been done. We had no idea there was any contact between Massarella and Ptarmigan. We do now. Moreover, we have a name — a name around which to build a proper rebuttal of these ludicrous charges.’