‘Yes,’ affirmed Baryshnikov barely loud enough to be heard. ‘My mother, Mr Justice, has just joined us at the back of the room.’
At this, everyone turned to look.
Even the judges.
Mrs Baryshnikov's handsomeness radiated out.
‘Are you the witness's mother?’ asked the senior judge.
The woman nodded.
‘And is your son's claim true, madam?’
‘Yes,’ Mrs Baryshnikov replied, her voice sounding slightly strained. ‘I have only just been rescued from police captivity – by Yegor's colleagues at Ptarmigan.’
Once more the room dissolved into noise and chatter.
After several attempts at calling for order with the gavel, the middle judge chose to rise to his feet. A court officer bellowed for quiet.
‘Mr Baryshnikov,’ said the senior judge with a noticeably more sympathetic tone. ‘We would clearly need more of an explanation, if not a specific hearing to consider your extraordinary claims. As it happens, we are in the middle of a very serious trial – in the highest court in the country. You have made a series of highly contradictory statements. And you have just offered us an explanation as to why you have been so inconsistent – which, if true, would be quite extraordinary. In any event, given your inconsistencies, I am beginning to question your reliability as a witness in this trial.’
At this point, Oscar Brogan QC moved quickly to his feet. ‘My Lords, this court heard yesterday about one witness – a doctor – who had said one thing to the authorities and then quite another to the former defence counsel about the state of health of one of the accused, but we don’t know why. Today, your Lordships, we have just heard from Mr Baryshnikov – incidentally, the only expert on Formula One being put forward by the prosecution – who said one thing in his witness statement, some of which he has repeated from the witness box today, but who has, within the space of an hour, gone on to contradict himself, almost completely. One of the reasons given would even suggest that some form of coercion has been exerted over members of this witness's family by the police.’
Brogan, keenly reading the mood of the courtroom, chose to leave his unofficial summation there, and sat down. His implicit challenge to the reliability of the prosecution witnesses had done enough. It seemed to throw the entire procedure of the previous day and a half into question.
Noise from the room was even louder after this torpedo fired at the prosecution's case, and the potential damage it might be doing to the credibility of the entire trial.
With a repeat of the senior judge rising to his feet, and the court official bellowing for quiet, the room finally settled.
The middle judge retook his chair. He seemed to be weighing up the situation and how he should proceed. ‘We will have to rise to deliberate on this extraordinary development,’ he said solemnly. ‘Before we do, I would ask Mr Baryshnikov one question, though – in order that he might help us.’
The Formula One driver raised his eyes to meet the judge's.
‘What, in your professional opinion, was the cause of this crash?’
Gazdanov leapt to his feet: ‘Mr Justices, Mr Baryshnikov has answered this in his witness statement. It's all too clear,’ he said lifting up a document. ‘It was recklessness on the part of Ms Sabatino, showing an exact repeat of her conduct in Canada – which was criticized only last week by the international governing body of Formula One.’
The senior judge glared at Gazdanov. ‘I think we have found that Mr Baryshnikov's circumstances, particularly in relation to his mother, have vitiated that statement – rendered it unreliable, Mr Gazdanov. Would the witness please answer my question about the causes of the crash, as you see them.’
Baryshnikov said: ‘The cause of the crash cannot be known until the wreckage of the car has been fully examined by professionals. To date, that has not been permitted – because the police chose to impound it.
‘Mr Justices,’ Yegor Baryshnikov continued, ‘Grand Prix races are conducted at extraordinary speeds. There is always risk. On any race track, there are always racing incidents. I have not had the chance to discuss things with my team since the kidnapping of my mother; however, both my car and Ms Sabatino's were perfectly set up for this circuit. Both cars were highly competitive for the first six laps. I do not believe that Ms Sabatino coming off the track at that point was driver error or a mechanical failure, nor was it a straightforward racing incident. Because of my own experiences of the background to this Grand Prix, I believe something happened to Ms Sabatino's car. Someone wanted something to happen to it.’
The judge's expression showed some element of surprise. He asked: ‘Are you saying that you think someone intended Ms Sabatino's car to crash?’
Baryshnikov paused. ‘I am, Mr Justice.’
Pudovkin's heart was racing. He looked at the prosecutor general; Gazdanov's body language indicated he was seething with anger.
‘Mr Baryshnikov, if you think the crash might have been intentional, you must have had thoughts, then, about who you think was behind it?’
There was a murmur from the room. But it quickly settled, perhaps in anticipation of what might come next. Baryshnikov, now relieved at not being coerced while answering such questions, seemed calmer and, speaking in Russian, found a far more confident voice.
‘I was involved from the very outset in trying to bring the Russian Grand Prix to Moscow. I was asked to join the board of Moscow 100, the bidding company for the race, funded by the patriot Avel Obrenovich. The moment we had the go-ahead from the FIA and Motor Racing Promotions, everyone involved in the bidding company – Mr Obrenovich himself, my fellow directors and I – found ourselves systematically harassed, attacked and undermined. Two of my colleagues even died under suspicious circumstances. The disruption suffered by the Moscow Grand Prix went far beyond any normal commercial practices. Someone, it seemed, had been going to extraordinary lengths to prevent the Zhar-ptitsa Autodrom from succeeding, not to mention hosting a successful Grand Prix.’
‘Mr Baryshnikov, you have not answered my question,’ said the senior judge. ‘Let us try again: You must have a view as to who you believe was behind the crash?’
Baryshnikov nodded.
‘Well, then, who do you think it was?’
This time the racing driver chose not to address his answer to the judges, but instead turned directly to face the TV cameras on the far side of the room: ‘Vadim Kondratiev,’ he said.
The crowd gasped.
Léon Gazdanov jumped straight to his feet. ‘Mr Justices, this is an outrageous slur on a senior man's reputation and character. I implore your Justices to reprimand Mr Baryshnikov, to find him in contempt of court, and to instruct him to make a full retraction and apology.’
For the first time the presiding judge allowed his human side to show through his austere professional facade. His reaction to Gazdanov's defence of Kondratiev indicated a very knowing expression. But before the judge could respond, Oscar Brogan had also leapt to his feet.
‘My Lordships, if I may? It might be worth reminding the court that Mr Baryshnikov is currently appearing as a witness for the prosecution.’
Pudovkin saw the judges nod in hesitant acknowledgement of that fact and one of them even smile.
‘It may therefore come as a comfort to your Lordships to know that there is common ground – agreement – between us. Indeed, the defence agrees with Mr Baryshnikov. It may also interest your Lordships to know that, if this trial continues, it is now the defence's intention to call as a witness Ms Oksana Ivanovna Pavlova, the mayor of Moscow. The mayor, as political sponsor of the Moscow Grand Prix, has specific views on this race and the influence which Mr Kondratiev has brought to bear on the Zhar-ptitsa Autodrom – from its inception, through its development, right up to and including the cause of the crash.’
Pudovkin saw a flurry of movement among the bank of media over by the right-hand wall. Many journalists were already running from the court, clutching mobile phones. This was news that would go around the world in a matter of minutes. And it couldn’t wait.
Finally, the judges regained control of the courtroom.
