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There was little sound for the first two minutes after the crash
except for the hoarse wail of the mangled car's horn. The noise
emanated weakly from both ends of the tunnel on Paris' Place de
l'Alma--from the east end, which the black Mercedes with the
silver trim had entered just moments before, moving at least
twice the 35 m.p.h. the local traffic laws allow; and from the
west end, where the narrow tunnel opened onto a spectacular view
of the left bank of the Seine. On the still busy streets
above--where the lights of the Eiffel Tower had yet to be shut
off for the night--the muffled sound of one car horn might not
even be noticed.
But seconds earlier there had been a tremendous noise. Tom
Richardson and Joanna Luz, visitors from San Diego, were walking
near the mouth of the tunnel when they saw the car enter,
feverishly pursued by a swarm of motorcycles and scooters, then
heard what sounded to them like an explosion. Just inside the
660-ft. tunnel, the car struck the concrete divider that
separates the eastbound lanes from the westbound and then
apparently cartwheeled, rolling over a full 360[degrees] and
spinning around nearly 180[degrees].
When Richardson and Luz ran into the tunnel, they saw the car
facing back in the direction from which it had come, its roof
crushed, its windshield smashed and its air bags deployed. The
chauffeur, killed instantly, slumped over the wheel, the weight
of his body pressing the dead car's horn. In front of the wreck,
a paparazzo--the last Diana paparazzo--raised his camera and
began to snap. "When I ran into the tunnel, he was already
there," Richardson said. "I could see that his equipment was far
too sophisticated for a tourist."
It took only minutes for the Paris police to arrive, cordoning
off the area with red- and-white crime-scene tape and leaving
the lights of their cruisers flashing as they rushed into the
tunnel. The officers broke into two groups: one headed straight
for the wrecked car, the other fanned out to nab the
photographers believed to have caused the accident. There were
more than seven paparazzi thought to have been involved in the
high-speed pursuit, and at least five were still in the tunnel.
All were quickly arrested and led out in manacles. When they
emerged, the crowd that had begun to gather jeered, and one
cuffed cameraman was even set upon and beaten before police
could hustle him away.
Back in the tunnel, the scene was a grim one. Almost the instant
the second group of officers reached the car, it was clear that
the chauffeur and Al Fayed, both sitting on the vehicle's left
side, were beyond help. Diana and her bodyguard, however, both
on the right, appeared to be clinging to life.
"We knew it was somebody messed up bad," says Michael Walker,
another American tourist whose taxi passed the wreckage, where
he stopped to gawk and take pictures. "It was a bad accident.
The car was crushed and tilted up against the wall." The taxi
driver thought he saw a blond-haired woman sitting in the
backseat of the car, gasping, crying.
As the onlookers watched, the rescue team cut through the
buckled roof and doors of the Mercedes, removed the two
survivors and rushed them by ambulance to a public hospital, the
Pitie-Salpetriere, one of the best in the city. On the way,
paramedics examined the wounded princess and found her condition
grave. She was suffering from extensive chest injuries, a
massive wound to the left lung and numerous broken bones. Her
blood pressure barely registered on the rescue team's instruments.
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