He had chosen not to share the email with Sabatino either.
Given Van Der Vaal’s comments in the press, though, Straker now wrestled with this view. Wasn’t he duty-bound to tell her? Didn’t those quotes from Van Der Vaal mean that he and Massarella were out to vindicate themselves — to even the score? Didn’t it mean that they were harbouring thoughts of revenge?
And if that was the mood in the Massarella camp, what did it mean for Adi Barrantes — heavily fined and stripped of all his Championship points from this season? Didn’t that mean he now had nothing to lose?
All this — going into Brazil, with the pivotal significance that race meant to Sabatino in the Drivers’ Championship — was truly alarming.
The undisclosed email in question discussed a completely different degree of sabotage against Ptarmigan which — now used out of spite for the purposes of revenge — could yet come back to haunt them.
PART SEVEN
THE SENNA S
SIXTY-THREE
Dominic Quartano stood on the apron of Aeroporto de Congonhas, in the midst of the urban sprawl of São Paulo. With him on the ground were Tahm Nazar, Matt Straker, Remy Sabatino and Andy Backhouse. They were there formally to meet the passengers off a special flight.
Dr Chen, members of his Mandarin Telecom board and guests of the company had just landed — invited to attend the Brazilian Grand Prix.
Mandarin Telecom’s CEO appeared at the cabin door and smiled genuinely as he saw the Ptarmigan party waiting to greet him at the foot of the steps.
‘Dr Chen, welcome,’ said Quartano. ‘Excellent to see you again. You might remember some of my team?’
‘Of course, Madam, Mr Nazar, Colonel.’
‘I don’t think you’ve met Andy Backhouse, though? Andy was instrumental in clarifying — at the FIA — the recent incident with one of our rather unsporting rivals.’
‘No, I haven’t. Mr Backhouse, how do you do? I have to say that I didn’t much take to Mr Van Der Vaal, either.’
Backhouse smiled. ‘Thank you, sir. We all take comfort that his garden will be well tended for the foreseeable future.’
Dr Chen, once again, found himself not quite understanding the English, but his expression didn’t betray it. Instead he replied with: ‘I am delighted that Ptarmigan has been well served by the process of law and justice under the sport of motor racing. The letter from the President of the FIA explaining everything was very reassuring. I and my board are thrilled that our sponsorship is still to proceed.’
‘Likewise, Dr Chen,’ answered Quartano. ‘Now, permit us to show you to your hotel. Then, we would very much like to introduce you to some of our friends and, afterwards, invite you all to dinner.’
Straker looked out on the five hundred guests who had congregated for the Ptarmigan reception in the large hospitality area within the Interlagos race track. He, Sabatino and Nazar were standing in the Ptarmigan receiving line by the main doors.
‘This turnout is amazing,’ said Straker. ‘Are all these people really here to celebrate our Mandarin sponsorship deal?’
Nazar had to smile. ‘We’ve got the Earl of Lambourn to thank for this,’ he explained. ‘Massarella’s actions, and the complications with MacRae, incensed him so much that he took it upon himself to whip people here as a show of moral solidarity — to reassert the sport’s integrity.’
‘No man is an island,’ suggested Sabatino mischievously as she raised a glass of orange juice in salute to the dashing Earl.
‘Perhaps they aren’t all piranhas? Maybe there are one or two dolphins around here — after all,’ said Straker with a smile that acknowledged the line was corny.
A few minutes later Quartano appeared through the main entrance of the room. His upright bearing, mane of silver hair swept back off his forehead and handmade blue suit projected quite a presence. He was accompanying their guest of honour, Dr Chen of Mandarin Telecom. Although shorter, the Chinese CEO’s dark hair, heavy-rimmed glasses and double-breasted charcoal grey suit gave him a powerful — but perhaps more of an understated — charisma. There was a warm round of applause as the two business leaders made their way through the guests to the Ptarmigan-branded stage arranged at the far end of the room.
The house lights dimmed and a spotlight fell on Dominic Quartano. Standing at a small lectern, the brightness of the lighting accentuated his rugged Mediterranean-seasoned skin and pale-blue miss-nothing eyes.
‘Friends of Formula One,’ he said, his rounded baritone immediately holding everyone’s attention. ‘I am flattered that you should all have graced us with your company this evening. I am immensely proud to reintroduce you to F1’s new friend and partner, Mandarin Telecom.’
There was another burst of applause.
The lights dimmed further and the spotlight was extinguished. Over the audio system, a dramatic voice-over to a new spectacular five-minute video extolled the virtues of Formula One and the might of Mandarin Telecom. As well as a crisp, logical message for the allegiance of these two brands, Bernie Callom’s visual imagery was intoxicating — even managing to impress the grizzled old campaigners in the room.
As the video ended, the stage started to move. A sloping trapezoid panel above the screen, apparently there to channel the eye, started to lower, hinged along the top of the screen. As it descended, a concealed display mounted on top of it came strikingly into view. Resting above it, slowly rotating down into sight, was next year’s Ptarmigan Formula One car, dressed in the team’s new Mandarin Telecom livery and markings. Its unusual colour became a talking point — introduced as qing. Mandarin Telecom explained this as the Chinese colour of renewal — the colour of vigour and vitality. Being a bluish-green, it wasn’t that much of a transition from Ptarmigan’s turquoise. High-intensity spotlights made it and the car seem to sparkle and gleam, while, underneath it, wafting dry ice cascaded down onto the stage.
As the display panel came to rest, showing the car off to the room, Quartano returned to the lectern and announced: ‘Today marks the start of a new sponsorship partnership which, we believe, will benefit the Chinese business community as well as our beloved sport of Formula One. Ladies and gentlemen, I am proud to introduce you to Ptarmigan’s new partner, Mandarin Telecom, and their Chief Executive Officer, Dr Chen.’
After a sumptuous dinner and only a modest amount of alcohol, the Ptarmigan party bade the Mandarin Telecom directors good night. Quartano said his good nights, too, leaving Straker and Sabatino alone.
‘It’s getting late,’ he said. ‘We need to have you on song for practice tomorrow.’
‘What are you, my Mama?’ said Sabatino.
Straker shook his head.
‘Don’t go all coy on me,’ she admonished.
Straker couldn’t help but grin at the directness, there being nothing equivocal about her meaning and lascivious tone. ‘Are you going to tie me up this time?’
Sabatino smirked. ‘Now, there’s an idea.’
SIXTY-FOUR
The excitement going into the Brazilian Grand Prix — the final round of the season — was that for the first time ever a woman was leading and could be about to win the World Drivers’ Championship.
Sabatino’s lead, though, was only three points — being on 81 to Paddy Aston’s 78. The narrowness of that margin added another dimension of excitement to the build-up of this race.