‘But that’s just it,’ Sabatino retorted loudly. ‘We have … a name. We have just admitted — and had it confirmed by the claimant — in an FIA hearing — that we did have someone in contact with Massarella. How can that do anything for us but scream: “We’re guilty!”?’
Brogan answered calmly. ‘I know it’s not going to seem so, but this is a beneficial development for us.’
Sabatino looked completely incredulous.
‘For there to be a Ptarmigan contact,’ the barrister stated, ‘there had to have been someone who leaked the designs from Massarella. Van Der Vaal, personally, confirmed Charlotte Grant’s identity. That admission, alone, opens up a whole new line of enquiry and defence.’
‘But that’s just it, isn’t it. Defence,’ said Sabatino. ‘We’re always on the damn defensive. And Quartano doesn’t want us to attack — for fear of upsetting Mandarin Telecom.’
Straker looked at Nazar then at Brogan. ‘After this morning, Remy, the sponsorship deal will be long gone. Having looked the Chinese in the eye and said that we were clean, we’ve completely lost face as well as our credibility with them. Quartano’s going to be mad, but at least this’ll remove any reticence about fighting back. We may have lost the sponsors, but we will protect your position in the Championship.’
Straker let that comment hang. Its significance was not lost on Sabatino; she began to calm slightly, even before Brogan backed Straker up.
‘The legal argument has been complicated today, but I strongly believe it’s been so in our favour. It’s thrown significant doubt on Massarella’s claims. Matt and I will conduct a wholesale reassessment of our approach to fight this case.’
‘That’s all for another time,’ barked Treadwell. ‘Let’s get the hell out of here.’
The room finally quietened down.
Sabatino still looked far from happy. ‘Christ, the press are going to kill us on the way out.’
‘How are we going to deal with them?’ asked Treadwell with unresolved tension in his voice.
Straker stepped straight in: ‘We should make a short statement.’
‘Like what? How the hell do you spin this?’ said Sabatino in exasperation.
Straker, looking and sounding like he was making it up on the hoof, said: ‘How about: “We have received new information only today, confirmed by Massarella … The FIA has granted us time to consider this … and has invited us to re-present it at the next Council meeting in London … We are more confident than ever of clearing our name”?’
Brogan nodded. ‘That works.’
Nazar followed with: ‘What do we say to: “Doesn’t this make you guilty?”’
‘“Innocent until proven otherwise”,’ responded Straker. ‘“No one’s proved anything, yet”?’
‘Again, that’s good,’ said Brogan.
Sabatino asked testily, intoning as if she were a journalist: ‘“Who is this Ptarmigan person who received the information?”’
‘“That’s under review”,’ suggested Straker. ‘“Our case will be presented formally to the FIA in London”.’
She came back with: ‘“Now that a contact name has been confirmed, doesn’t that make it more likely that Ptarmigan did use Massarella’s ideas?”’
‘“First, we haven’t. And, second, not proven”,’ answered Straker.
‘Good,’ said Brogan. ‘All those lines work. I think those are the most obvious questions. Who’s going to do the talking?’
There was a moment’s silence.
‘Shouldn’t it be Oscar?’ suggested Treadwell.
‘Wouldn’t that make it look legal and defensive?’ countered Nazar.
‘I think it would,’ offered Straker.
Nazar said: ‘It should be me.’
There was agreement around the room until Sabatino said quietly: ‘I should do it.’
Straker looked genuinely impressed by the gesture. ‘Remy, that would make a strong impression, but it would tie you into the incident — and you had nothing to do with this.’
‘True,’ said Nazar. ‘Remy, it’s big of you: Matt’s right.’
‘He is,’ replied Sabatino. ‘But either I’m in this business, or I’m not. I don’t want to be precious and seem like I need protecting from the manly stuff.’
Five minutes later Sabatino and Nazar emerged from 8 Place de la Concorde and faced the music. The moment they exited the FIA headquarters the noise from the hundreds of journalists and camera crews was literally deafening. Far louder than before.
It was immediately obvious that Massarella had already departed from the hearing and briefed the press. The journalists’ questions were informed, accusatory and hostile.
‘How do you feel about Ptarmigan cheating?’
‘Are you only able to win using other people’s ideas?’
‘Are you going to give up some of your points in the Constructors’ or Drivers’ Championships?’
‘Is Ptarmigan going to apologize to Massarella?’
The barrage was relentless.
Sabatino remained extremely calm. She stood there — in front of this baying rabble — without saying anything but looking like she would be ready when they were. Slowly, the pack quietened down.
Without notes, Sabatino began to speak over the still-jostling mêlée, reciting from memory the gist of the statement they had prepared indoors.
‘We were asked to account for the actions of a deceased member of staff,’ she said clearly and firmly. ‘It’s easy to see why we asked for — and were granted — an adjournment. We are more confident, now, than we were before all this started, of clearing our name.’
The hyenas yelled and screamed once again.
Sabatino parried each of their assaults:
‘Nothing’s been proven…’
‘We have faith in the FIA…’
‘Yes,’ she said with genuine emphasis, ‘if there has been wrongdoing, we expect there to be punishment … whichever side’s found guilty.’
‘No, I want to win the Championship fair and square…’
Finally, she got to: ‘Thank you, gentlemen. I look forward to seeing you all in London,’ with which she tried to break from the press towards a taxi Treadwell had already flagged down, waiting at the kerbside. As she moved, though, the media surged forward as a mob, continuing to shout questions. Sabatino was surrounded — badly jostled. Nazar tried to hold them back. Straker, too, opened his arms to try and give her space to move in the direction of the waiting taxi. The press completely crowded around her. Sabatino could hardly get through the door. Nazar shepherded her into the back seat. Straker was there too, so Nazar shouted at him to get in — and to get her away.
The car door was shut. The taxi started to move off, still surrounded by running paparazzi, firing off shots through the windows on the move.
Finally they were clear.
Rounding the Place de la Concorde, Straker said quietly: ‘Well handled, Remy. That was skilfully done.’
Sabatino didn’t acknowledge the compliment. Dismissively, she said: ‘It won’t have made the slightest fucking difference to tomorrow’s catastrophic headlines.’
PART SIX
HYDE PARK CORNER
FIFTY — TWO
Sabatino remained slumped back in the seat of the cab as the collapse of the hearing started to sink in. Her chances of winning the Championship had been completely derailed. Any adverse judgment from the FIA, and all her achievements this year would be for nought.