‘Thank you, Mr President. On page twelve you will see a number of SMS messages.’
Around the table members of motor sport’s supreme governing body opened their folders and turned to the indicated spot.
‘There is one message here of particular interest, which was sent to Ms Grant,’ declared Brogan. ‘It says, and I quote: “Hope the ASD idea is going over well…”’
One of the thirteen Council members present looked a little quizzical. ‘ASD? Can you remind us what that means, Mr Brogan?’
‘It’s a reference to the technology in question in this allegation, sir,’ answered Brogan politely and with deliberate patience — mindful that he might need this blazer’s vote later on. ‘ASD is Massarella’s acronym for Aero-Spiral Device — the feature the Council has come to know as the spiral surfaces — and which Ptarmigan refer to as Fibonacci Blades.’
The Council member nodded his thanks.
‘Mr President,’ said Brogan, ‘whoever sent that message is clearly prompting Charlotte Grant to promote the ASD. We submit to the Council that this clearly forms part of the information chain that led to this particular technology reaching and getting into Ptarmigan.’
‘It would appear so,’ acknowledged San Marino with a series of slow nods as he studied the text.
‘So whose number is it that sent this message?’ asked Joss MacRae from the side of the table. ‘You’ve not identified it. How can this possibly constitute evidence?’
‘A good point,’ replied Brogan to the room with a slightly sly smile. ‘You will notice that the number bears the international dialling code for Italy — and that it is a mobile phone.’ Redirecting his attention to San Marino, he added: ‘Mr President, during our previous session, you asked me to direct a question to another member present through the Chair…’
San Marino nodded.
‘In that case, Mr President, I would like to ask whether Mr Van Der Vaal would comment on this number.’
San Marino’s expression changed instantly, as did the mood in the room at this unexpected turn.
There was muttering for a few seconds.
‘Well, Eugene?’ asked the FIA President. ‘Are you able to comment on this number?’
Van Der Vaal’s reaction was equally surprising. ‘This has nothing to do with this case,’ he growled. ‘How are Ptarmigan allowed to use this kind of bogus evidence?’
San Marino then took everyone by surprise. Reaching forward, he grabbed the flying-saucer-like conference phone sitting on the table in front of him. Looking down through his half-moon reading glasses, he looked for the number on the SMS transcript and began to dial it out.
Van Der Vaal watched him — his expression that of someone with an increasing sense that he was about to be wrong-footed.
San Marino continued punching out the number.
Van Der Vaal’s expression changed again. Quite markedly. Straker smiled inwardly. He stared at the Massarella team boss. Was the man finally coming to a realization?
Van Der Vaal let out a kind of growl. ‘All right, all right,’ came the guttural accent. Van Der Vaal paused. ‘It’s mine, okay. That’s one of my phones.’
The Council was not able to control its reaction.
There was chatter and fidgeting all round.
‘Mr President,’ said Brogan commandingly — loud enough to be heard above the noise of the room and to be demanding of attention, ‘this is hugely significant. And pivotal to this case. My client would like to ask a further question of Mr Van Der Vaal.’ Brogan caught San Marino’s eye as he looked up. ‘Why was Mr Van Der Vaal clearly encouraging an outsider — an employee of the Ptarmigan Team, at that — to promote what we are now told was Massarella’s proprietary technology?’
Noises of surprise continued to come from around the elegant RAC committee room.
At that point, Brogan just waited — leaving his question hanging in the air.
Still the rumble of noises continued.
San Marino simply said: ‘Gentlemen?’ to try and calm the room before looking over at Van Der Vaal. ‘Eugene, I believe Ptarmigan have made a strong point. You need to explain this. It’s one thing to be the victim of industrial espionage, and lose valuable information to a competitor. But quite another to be the apparent instigator of the transfer in the first place.’
Straker looked around the room, studying the faces of the Council members — trying to detect any change in their expressions.
‘Eugene, you need to answer.’
Straker then looked across at Van Der Vaal. The arrogance — the brutish expression — was unwavering. Straker was staggered by the man’s ego. He clearly wasn’t conceding anything.
‘What the hell is this?’ barked Van Der Vaal. ‘I reject this assertion, and reject evidence from a source that I am not allowed to challenge. In a proper court — of law — this evidence would be inadmissible.’
San Marino hesitated, switching his attention from Van Der Vaal back to Brogan.
‘In that case, Mr President,’ Brogan went on, retaking the floor, ‘I would like to demonstrate to the Council that this encouragement to pass on ASD technology is by no means an isolated incident from the Massarella Team. Indeed, it is entirely consistent with a programme of intervention levelled by Massarella at Ptarmigan throughout this season. May I ask you to turn to Tab 15 of our revised statement of facts, which shows my client’s new evidence. Which is substantial. I should explain, Mr President, that Ptarmigan’s feeling of injustice over Massarella’s conduct, and their lack of disclosure in this case, was so strong it prompted my client to take significant legal action. Ptarmigan applied to the British High Court — under the UK’s Civil Procedure Act 1997 — for powers to search premises and to seize documents from two parties involved with Massarella’s activities. On the strength of Ptarmigan’s case, the Court granted permission. Tab 15 shows some of the records seized from the premises of Trifecta Systems and Mr Michael Lyons, formerly of the same, under the powers of the Search Order issued by the High Court.’
Some Council members looked clearly surprised by the extent of the legal processes Ptarmigan had invoked.
Brogan kept talking, though, almost as if he were chairing the meeting. ‘In here, Mr President, you will now see batches of emails — between Mr Lyons and Mr Van Der Vaal. Extraordinarily, news is shared between the two men of the sabotage incidents since alleged by Ptarmigan. The first batch of emails relates to the jamming device placed in Ms Sabatino’s helmet before Monaco — which interfered with a potentially race-winning transmission at the time of the safety car. The second set of emails discusses the sabotage of Helli Cunzer’s exhaust in Monte-Carlo, intended to degrade his suspension — which it did at high speed, causing that horrific crash which nearly killed him. And the third batch refers to the device used by Adi Barrantes to remotely activate Ms Sabatino’s engine limiter in Spa, which caused her to suffer that terrifying high-speed loss of control in the second round of Qualifying at the Belgian Grand Prix.’
Brogan stopped.
He sensed he had delivered quite a punch. There was a lot for the Council to absorb.
The room fell silent.
The news was sinking in.
Straker felt they might be approaching the crunch point in their arguments — and he did not want Van Der Vaal to have any room to wriggle out of this. None. Above all, he wanted Van Der Vaal to pay for having lied.
As the Council members were getting over their shock of this new evidence, Straker pulled a pre-prepared piece of paper from the top pocket of his suit, and slid it across the highly polished antique table to Brogan. Brogan picked it up and opened it. It said: