Sabatino was now sobbing, her breathing becoming deeper – more rapid – and uncomfortable under the body armour of her brace. Straker put his other hand on hers, trying to provide any form of comfort. Sabatino howled again, tears pouring down her cheeks. She needed to sniff, to keep her airways clear. Straker continued to hold her hand, thinking it best simply to let her react as fully as possible, to help her start to come to terms with this news.
From across the room, McMahon approached the bed. ‘We are sorry that this has come as such a shock,’ she said.
Taking his cue, Straker said: ‘Remy, Sandy and I need to talk a few things through with you, as the Ptarmigan situation – here – is pretty serious.’
Sabatino's attention was held for a moment, distracted from the deaths.
‘Ms Sabatino,’ said McMahon. ‘As Colonel Straker has explained, I am a solicitor and have been asked to look after you. Dr Nazar has been arrested. The government here in Moscow has charged Ptarmigan and him with corporate manslaughter for the deaths of the spectators at the Grand Prix. You, yourself, have been placed under police guard while you remain in the hospital.’
‘I ’m under police guard?’ She paused. ‘Does that mean … I am also under arrest?’
McMahon shrugged. ‘Sort off,’ she said.
‘What does that mean, Matt?’ she asked, snifing severely – prompting Straker to reach for some tissues sitting in a box on her bedside table.
‘The authorities have declared that they want to put the two of you on trial – for the deaths that occurred at the race,’ stated McMahon.
A look of concern crossed her face.
‘The trial has been announced very publicly, because of how fiercely the public has reacted to the accident,’ said Straker. ‘Public feeling is running so high that the president of Russia has got involved. A prosecutor has already been announced.’
‘Colonel Straker and I are looking into what might have happened. I gather the colonel is highly effective as an investigator; I am confident we can construct a powerful defence.’
Straker looked down into Sabatino's eyes. ‘Andy and I have already made a good start,’ he said. ‘But we’re going to need you, though – as soon as you can – to tell us everything you can remember, to help us understand what might have happened, and what might have gone wrong to cause you to crash where you did.’
There was suddenly a noise from outside her room.
The policemen were moving about outside. Agitated discussion could be heard taking place in the corridor.
‘I have tried not to remember too much about it,’ said Sabatino.
‘I understand,’ said Straker.
‘I think I was attempting to go wide,’ Sabatino went on hesitantly. ‘I was going round – wide – and was ready for the track to be dirty. But when I got out there,’ she said, sniffing again, ‘the steering went.’
Voices again came from the direction of the corridor. ‘Sandy, could you go and see what's going on?’
The lawyer nodded.
‘What did the steering feel like, Rems?’ Straker asked.
‘Not normal, at all,’ she said. ‘I remember starting to turn. And then feeling huge resistance. The wheel wouldn’t move. Then I hit the brakes – and, in a millisecond, I was hurtling across the gravel.’
Straker could hear McMahon's voice discussing something animatedly with someone outside the room. He was concerned that a halt could be called to their visit at any moment. ‘Did you feel the brakes kick in? – I know this must be painful.’
Sabatino breathed deeply, trying to dismiss all her emotions from her thoughts. ‘I can’t remember, Matt,’ her voice cracking slightly. ‘I really can’t,’ she said trying to cast her mind back – trying to think of something to help her and Ptarmigan's cause. ‘My memory's so patchy.’
‘Was there anything that happened to you or the car in the race before that manoeuvre? Anything that didn’t work as it should? Do you remember hitting anything – a kerb, another car? Was there anything that could have upset the workings of the car that morning, before the incident?’
‘No,’ she said. ‘The car was perfect. Best I’ve ever known it. I was ready to take Yegor in that move. I remember everything was going exactly as planned.’
‘What do you think caused the resistance to the steering, then, Rems?’
Sabatino fell silent, trying to concentrate.
More voices were audible outside. The door was banged hard and swung inwards. ‘Was there anything else that happened that afternoon – or during that manoeuvre – that struck you as strange?’ he asked.
Sabatino's face screwed up in concentration. ‘I don’t know … I really don’t, Matt,’ she said with tears in her voice. ‘I don’t know whether I’m remembering or imagining things.’
‘Doesn’t matter,’ said Straker.
‘I think … I don’t know … there might – might have been some kind of jolt – as I began to turn in.’
‘What kind of jolt?’
Straker's attention was suddenly caught by the door flying open and Mr Uglov striding in. ‘You’re going to have to leave,’ declared the consultant. ‘Your visit's over.’
McMahon was following the doctor back into the room, having appeared to have been pushed out of his way. ‘What's going on here?’ demanded the lawyer. ‘We’ve had permission – through the British consul – from the prosecutor general's office.’
Mr Uglov seemed unmoved. Shouting through the doors of the room in Russian he seemed to be issuing instructions. Moments later the two policemen came charging in, brandishing their weapons.
McMahon moved past Uglov and leant in over Sabatino.
The patient seemed a little taken aback at seeing the lawyer's face up so close.
‘At no time should you say anything to anyone here,’ McMahon instructed her. ‘Do not discuss anything to do with the crash, or Ptarmigan, with anyone, even the medical staff. Remember, any of them could be called as a witness. Matt and I will be fighting your case as hard as we can. Please try and put all this out of your mind – easier said … I know.’
As McMahon was giving her urgent briefing, the two policemen had walked up behind her. One of them was issuing instructions. She straightened up and turned to face them.
