‘Avel Obrenovich,’ said Straker, ‘is a Class 1 – Grade “A” – shit.’
McMahon flinched at the ferocity of his reply. ‘Who is he then?’
Straker leant in towards her so he wouldn’t be overheard: ‘The man is Russian. Oligarch, a multibillionaire – owns a vast oil and gas company. Ptarmigan knows him, though, as the owner and sponsor of the Massarella Formula One team. He was the arsehole behind the sabotage of Ptarmigan last year – those incidents I told you about, which nearly killed Remy and her then-teammate.
Straker went on: ‘Obrenovich is ruthless. During that spate of sabotage, we uncovered an attempt by his people to grab control of – pretty much steal – Formula One's commercial entity, Motor Racing Promotions. And, now, it seems he's involved in the Grand Prix circuit in Moscow.’
‘Could he have something to do with the crash, then?’
‘Who knows? But I have a foreboding sense that this situation will become a whole lot murkier if Obrenovich is involved. He has a proven antipathy to Ptarmigan, to Quartech, and, above all, a hatred of Dominic Quartano – resenting his financial genius. It was Ptarmigan, ultimately, that thwarted Obrenovich's plans that year.’
‘Sounds like it was you who did that,’ McMahon replied. ‘You’d better take care, then, if he is that ruthless.’
Their train slowed down, approaching the next station.
Straker became alert to their surroundings once again.
Encouraging McMahon to move slowly, they ambled off the train just as the doors were closing. Straker cast a discreet eye up and down the platform. As far as he could tell, there was no sign of a third presence.
They made for the exit.
Once more, Straker couldn’t help being struck by the architecture. Prospekt Mira was a station as beautiful as the last, but in a completely different way. Its pylons – either side of the concourse – were white marble, topped with flower-patterned bas-reliefs. Its highly polished floor resembled a chessboard; overhead, its chandeliers lit up the striking diamond-shaped plaster design that covered the entirety of the semicircular ceiling.
Straker continued to scan the crowd and their surroundings for tails.
Emerging above ground and back onto the street, he moved them into the lee of a building, out of sight. McMahon telephoned her driver to have him pick them up.
Ten minutes later their car drew up to the kerb on Mira Prospekt, a hundred yards south from the station. The two of them got in. The car pulled off straight away.
Straker had not been able to spot anyone watching them.
A man, though, had emerged from the station. He had made a phone call – all the while watching them from a distance. As the Brandeis car pulled away, he was able to pass on the make, colour and number plate of the Brandeis Mercedes.
Straker and McMahon felt able to relax for the first time since meeting Kosygin. Discovering that Avel Obrenovich was involved in the Russian Grand Prix was the biggest breakthrough in the investigation so far.
‘But if Obrenovich did put up all the money,’ said McMahon, ‘why on earth would he orchestrate the crash? It doesn’t make any sense. Surely it – let alone the deaths – would devalue his investment in the circuit? How could he ever benefit from such a tragedy?’
‘I am not sure yet,’ admitted Straker. ‘There could be any number of possibilities. Maybe it's a property play? Moscow 100 gains control of a sizeable piece of prime land in the heart of the city. He gets rid of the board of directors one by one, giving him control. A big enough tragedy causes the venue to be abandoned as a race track; the site is then turned over to property development, which would easily be worth a multiple of the sums he's already invested.’
Straker then added: ‘There could still be a significant benefit from a Formula One earnings point of view. F1's TV and commercial rights are colossal, measured in the billions. At the end of each season, those earnings are shared out between the teams according to their success: the higher a team's standing in the Constructors’ rankings, the bigger their share of those revenues. Maybe Obrenovich has taken a gamble: his team is lying a poor second to Ptarmigan in the Championship this year, with little chance of getting past us. If Obrenovich found a way to put Sabatino out for the rest of this season – through injury, or better still if he could disrupt Ptarmigan in the ball-aching distraction of a court case – he might create enough of an opportunity for his Massarella drivers to take advantage. A destabilized Ptarmigan could be just enough help to see Massarella close the gap in the Constructors’ rankings, helping them to win the Championship. The financial benefit of that to Massarella and Obrenovich would be huge and, very likely, outweigh any short-term devaluation of his investment in the Autodrom.’
‘How could someone go to such lengths?’
Straker shook his head: ‘It was a mindset beyond my imagination – I would never have believed it existed at all until I exposed Massarella's bullshit last year. If Obrenovich is still smarting from that defeat – looking for revenge, even – then who knows what he is capable of doing?’
‘I can now see why you reacted so strongly to hearing his name connected to the Autodrom.’
‘If he is involved, though, something significant does change,’ said Straker, ‘and possibly to our advantage. If an element of this crash stems from Obrenovich being out for a bit of old-fashioned unprincipled sportsmanship, it would definitely bring part of this crisis under the jurisdiction of the FIA.’
‘Because his involvement would indicate a competition-related element to the crash?’
Straker nodded. ‘It would give the sport's governing body a clear mandate to be involved – and to have an interest in it.’
‘And you think that would help?’
He grunted “Yes”. ‘It would bring its president – Bo San Marino, a straight-up man with huge integrity – directly into the case. He, and the FIA, would have to take sides. I think, therefore, the time is now right,’ he said, and took out Sabatino's phone. Straker dialled a number and waited for the connection. ‘Jean,’ he said, ‘Matt Straker. Is Mr Q about?’
In no time Dominic Quartano's PA had located their boss and was patching Straker through.
‘You won’t believe what we’ve discovered,’ Straker said, as he set about explaining their afternoon.
Quartano listened attentively to Straker's update.
‘So Avel Obrenovich has reared his ugly head again.’
‘It seems that way.’
Quartano exhaled audibly. ‘What's the plan now?’
‘Earlier, you asked whether we should involve San Marino,’ replied Straker. ‘I said yes, but only after we had managed to build up more of a picture.’
‘Uhuh.’
‘I think we are now ready, sir. I’d like to brief San Marino. I think the FIA should now be playing a role in this fiasco.’
‘I’ll have a word with him. Do you want me to mention the Obrenovich connection?’
‘I think he’d have to be forewarned, don’t you?’
