‘The research team is ready for you, Matt – in a room down the hall.’
McMahon led Straker off to another meeting room. Four executives were already sitting around its small table. First, Straker was introduced to Anatoly Pokrovsky, whom McMahon described as one of her solicitors and the Brandeis colleague she had appointed to head up the research effort. Pokrovsky was easily fifteen years McMahon's senior. He was stick thin with ever-moving eyes behind a pair of thickish wire-framed glasses. He was prematurely thinning on top and had a pale – even pasty – complexion. Overall, Straker gained from him an impression of gaucheness; Pokrovsky did not appear to be particularly confident or at ease with himself. In a profession where even rudimentary interpersonal skills were necessary, Pokrovsky's relatively junior rank – to McMahon's – could perhaps be attributed to his social awkwardness.
‘As part of the defence against the corporate manslaughter charges that Ptarmigan is facing,’ Straker announced, ‘we need to research some factors around the crash at the Grand Prix.’
The faces around the table looked expectant. All of Moscow knew Brandeis Gertner was involved in this high-profile case. There was a sense from the researchers that they were about to enjoy the privilege of becoming “insiders” in the impending trial that the whole country was talking about.
‘These are the aspects of the Zhar-ptitsa I am keen to look into,’ Straker said as he handed each of them a page of his typed-up notes. ‘I would like a full timeline of the Autodrom's development and existence; this means everything from the initial bid to host the Grand Prix, which was presumably made to the business that runs Formula One – Motor Racing Promotions Limited; I’d like to know all about the people – or organization – that put the bid together; how the bid approach was announced; how the venue was chosen; how the land was bought; who granted the planning permission; which companies were involved in the development of the Grand Prix circuit; how all this was financed; who designed the track; which companies did the building work; which entity operates the complex now; and a list of all suppliers, companies, and people with regular access to the Autodrom.’
At no point in this briefing did Straker say why he was looking into the Autodrom in this much detail. These Brandeis people may have been subject to client-attorney privilege, but the hackneyed phrase “this is Russia” nagged at Straker's confidence. He wasn’t prepared to assume – or expect – the norm, here, for a moment.
Straker looked into the faces around the table for acknowledgement of their tasks.
‘I am happy you produce your findings as each segment feels complete, Mr Pokrovsky. No need to wait until it's all done. Let's see what you can find.’
Straker walked with McMahon back towards their conference room command centre.
‘Thank you,’ he said to the Brandeis lawyer. ‘We’ve got our defence planning up and running encouragingly quickly. Let's just hope we can find something that gives us an insight into the who behind this case.’
THIRTY-SEVEN
When Straker re-entered the command centre, Andy Backhouse broke from a group huddled round a computer screen.
‘We’ve pulled together a full set of telemetry and video coverage of the leading cars over the Grand Prix weekend – including pre-race practice, Qualifying, the parade lap, the laps preceding the crash.’
‘And?’
‘As far as we can tell, there are no oddities. Remy's own take on the car does bear out – that there didn’t seem to be any impact or mechanical failure during that time.’
‘Have you enough data to be certain?’
‘We could go into more detail, but I’d be confident the malfunction we’re talking about would be obvious, even in headline-level data.’
Straker nodded at the assumption. This conclusion may not have told Straker anything new, but it did enable the process of elimination to begin – allowing them to focus specifically on the issues and periods of time that could matter. ‘What about the immediate lead-in to the crash?’
‘That's what we’re working on now.’
‘Good, Andy. While I’ve got you here, let me give you a quick overview of the investigation,’ he said and indicated to Backhouse that they go into the inner HQ.
Straker closed the door behind him.
‘I’m going to restrict access in here to you, Sandy and me.’
Backhouse looked surprised. ‘Any particular reason you’re keeping such a close hold?’
‘Something weird is going on here. I don’t want us to take any chances. After the Baryshnikov defection, we have no idea how far the Russian authorities will go to find out what we’re up to. We don’t need to make it easy for them.’
On the whiteboard Straker wrote a list under the heading CAUSES OF THE CRASH: Practice, Qualifying, Parade Lap, Laps 1 to 6. Then, picking up a red pen, he drew a diagonal line through each of them. He left Hermitage Straight uncrossed.
‘What's the significance of the ZHAR-PTITSA AUTODROM heading?’
Straker answered: ‘For the infrastructure around Turn Eleven to have been interfered with so much, someone must have had access to the circuit.’
‘Okay.’
‘Who could that have been? One of the staff? An outsider? If it was an outsider, who let them in? I want to understand all the commercial, operational and personal connections with the Autodrom. At the very least I want to know who had access to the site.’
‘Good stuff. Why the BARYSHNIKOV heading?’
‘Who knows? I’m intrigued by your assertion that defecting to the other side was not what you would have expected from him.’
Backhouse looked concerned.
‘No, no – take the credit,’ said Straker noticing Backhouse's expression. ‘Any kind of hunch, particularly if something doesn’t seem quite right, is always a godsend in an investigation.’
Almost unnoticed, afternoon merged with evening in the Brandeis command centre. The gloomy overcast Moscow day gave way to a murky Moscow dusk. Fluorescent lights in the conference room seemed to make the darkness through the plate-glass window come quicker. Before any of the Ptarmigan team had realized it, night had fallen. From their eyrie at the top of the Imperatorskaya Tower, the view of Moscow was now made up of a mass of silhouettes, an occasional floodlit church or government building and lights burning in windows across the city.
Straker had spent the afternoon working his way through management emails from the Ptarmigan factory, editing them for inclusion in the witness statement. He was pleased. There was some thorough background material to help reinforce the robustness of Ptarmigan's management and operating procedures. A number of electronic folders had been set up to assimilate, index and collate the information he had requested. As Straker went through them, he transferred selected emails into the relevant folders.
McMahon reappeared in the room just before seven o’clock carrying a bundle of files. ‘Pokrovsky has come up with some initial findings on the Autodrom.’
Straker pulled out a chair from under the table for her. While she was arranging the files on the small table, Straker re-closed the door.
‘They’ve found some things about the entity that mounted the bid,’ she said.
‘Excellent.’
‘Guess who was the first person to go public with the idea of a Grand Prix in Moscow?’
