corroborates Strock's story of systematic doping. He, too, is suing USA Cycling. In the national programme, Strock and Kaiter were one year behind Armstrong.
From a coffee shop in Indianapolis to a San Francisco restaurant where Dr Prentice Steffen tells his story. He had been team doctor with the US Postal team in 1996; the year before Armstrong joined. Towards the end of that season, US Postal informed Steffen they would no longer need him. Steffen believes it was because he refused to help with any kind of drugs.
From a doctor in San Francisco to a former professional on another continent. This is a man who rode with Armstrong for four years at Motorola. The team, Armstrong believes, was "white as snow". That is not what his one-time teammate says. This rider tells of a decision by certain members of the Motorola squad to use the blood-boosting drug erythropoietin (EPO) during the 1995 season: "The contract with our main sponsor was up for renewal and we needed results. It was as simple as that."
Nothing is so simple for the carabinieri of the Florence-based NAS team who enforce Italy's food and drug laws. Here in the basement of their old police quarters in the city, the cardboard boxes are stacked 10-feet high, each packed with files seized from doctors alleged to have been doping their athlete-patients. The files seized from Michele Ferrari, one of the doctors being investigated, show that Kevin Livingston was one of those treated by Ferrari. During the Tour de France of 1999 and 2000, Livingston was Armstrong's most able equipier, a man he described as his closest friend. Ferrari also kept an Armstrong file, one that indicated a role in the rider's training. Asked whether he had ever visited Ferrari, Armstrong replied: "Perhaps."
From one doping investigation in Italy to another in Paris where Hugues Huet, a journalist with the state-run television organisation France 3, tells of how, during last year's Tour de France, he tailed an unmarked US Postal car and eventually filmed the driver and his companion disposing of five plastic bags in a bin many miles from their team hotel. The rubbish contained 160 syringe wrappers, bloodied compresses and discarded packaging that indicated use of the blood-boosting product, Actovegin. That led to a nine-month French investigation into the US Postal team, which will conclude later this month. So many questions.
Then, out of the blue the phone rang. It was Armstrong. He had heard things, he wanted to talk. Any time, any place. The interview was arranged for two days later at Hotel La Fauvelaie, near the village of St Sylvain d'Anjou in eastern France.
EIGHT years have passed since our last meeting. Back then, Armstrong was an ambitious 21-year-old setting out on his first Tour de France. The years have changed him. His body is harder now, the eyes more wary. There is a sense that come-what-may, he will overcome. He stretches out his hand, matter-of-factly. He is aware of your suspicions; he wants to restate his case.
"Do you mind," he says, "if Bill sits in?" (Bill is Bill Stapleton, his agent and lawyer.)
"I would prefer it to be one-to-one, but your choice."
"Yeah, I'd like Bill present."
"I have come to discuss one subject: doping."
"Okay," he says.
The first part of the interview is a gentle journey through his career. In late 1992, he joined Motorola and the professional peloton.
You must have been aware by then that doping was part of the culture?
"I don't know the answer to that because Motorola was white as snow and I was there all the way through to 1996."
What of the Fleche Wallonne classic in 1994 when three members of the same Italian team Gewiss-Ballon broke away and finished first, second and third? He had been strong that day but couldn't live with the Italians. It was unusual for three riders from the same team to break clear in a classic and suspicions were aroused when, a few days later, the Gewiss team doctor, one Michele Ferrari, claimed EPO "was no