Jacques and Jessica Moretti, the French power couple who built a glittering empire of alpine nightlife in Switzerland’s upscale Crans-Montana resort, now stand accused of one of the most callous acts imaginable: allegedly fleeing their burning nightclub with the night’s cash takings clutched in hand, while terrified patrons—many of them teenagers—choked on toxic smoke and perished in a raging inferno. As the first coffins of foreign victims are repatriated across Europe and survivors battle lifelong scars from burns covering up to 80% of their bodies, Swiss prosecutors have leveled bombshell charges against the Morettis for manslaughter and negligent bodily harm. But emerging details paint a darker picture: not just negligence, but deliberate destruction of evidence in the frantic hours after the blaze, raising chilling questions about what secrets the couple desperately tried to erase. With Jacques’s sordid criminal past resurfacing—including convictions for pimping, fraud, and kidnapping—this tragedy is exploding into what could become Switzerland’s biggest tourism scandal, exposing a web of overlooked warnings, regulatory failures, and profit-driven recklessness in a billion-dollar industry.

The nightmare unfolded in the early hours of January 1, 2026, as Crans-Montana—a sun-kissed haven in the Valais Alps, beloved for its 140 kilometers of ski slopes, panoramic views of the Matterhorn, and the annual Omega European Masters golf tournament—ushered in the new year with unbridled revelry. Le Constellation, the Morettis’ flagship venue since they acquired it in 2015, was the epicenter of the festivities. This multi-level bar and nightclub, with its sleek basement dance floor, rooftop terrace, and reputation for high-energy parties, drew about 250 guests that night: a mix of local Swiss youth, international tourists from over 10 countries, and families on holiday. The crowd skewed young—over half the victims were under 18, some as young as 14—eager to toast 2026 with champagne and sparklers under pulsing lights and thumping bass.

Eyewitness accounts and chilling cellphone videos, now central to the investigation, capture the horror’s swift onset. Around 1:30 a.m., servers paraded bottles of bubbly topped with “cold fire” sparklers—those seemingly harmless fountains of sparks designed to dazzle without danger. But in the packed basement, where revelers waved them aloft in celebration, the 500-degree embers ignited the ceiling’s acoustic foam. Installed for soundproofing to appease noise complaints from nearby luxury chalets, this cheap polyurethane material—infamous for its flammability and toxic fumes—was a disaster waiting to happen. A flashover ensued: superheated gases caused the entire space to erupt in flames, temperatures skyrocketing to 1,000 degrees Celsius within seconds. Thick, acrid smoke billowed, blinding escapees and filling lungs with deadly toxins from melting plastics and furnishings.

Panic turned the venue into a death trap. Narrow stairwells to the upper levels became choked bottlenecks; patrons trampled one another in the crush, screams piercing the night. Some smashed windows, leaping into the sub-zero snow below, sustaining fractures and hypothermia. Others collapsed where they stood, overcome by smoke inhalation—the primary cause of death for most, as autopsies later revealed. Firefighters from nearby Sion arrived within minutes, battling the blaze in freezing conditions with helicopters airlifting the gravely injured to specialized burn units in Lausanne, Bern, and even across borders to France and Italy. But the fire’s ferocity, fueled by the foam’s rapid burn, proved insurmountable. By dawn, Le Constellation was a smoldering husk: charred beams sagging, interior gutted, and the air heavy with the stench of tragedy.

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The toll was staggering: 40 dead, including 15 minors, and 119 injured—three more than initial reports, as lingering complications claimed additional lives in the following days. Victims hailed from Switzerland, Italy, France, Germany, the UK, Belgium, Spain, Portugal, the Netherlands, the US, and Australia, transforming a local catastrophe into an international outcry. Eighty-three survivors remain hospitalized as of January 8, many facing months of agonizing skin grafts, reconstructive surgeries, and psychological trauma. “This wasn’t just a fire; it was a massacre,” declared Romain Jordan, a Geneva-based lawyer representing over a dozen injured parties and bereaved families, in a blistering press conference. “My clients want answers. They want the chain of responsibility that led to this drama to be clearly established.”

Amid the chaos, Jessica Moretti’s actions have become the focal point of public revulsion. Witnesses, including survivors quoted anonymously in Swiss media like La Tribune de Genève, claim the 40-year-old co-owner was seen bolting from the basement with the cash register in tow—potentially containing thousands of euros from the night’s packed house—leaving behind screaming patrons clawing for escape. “She pushed past people, clutching that box like it was gold,” one survivor told investigators, per leaked reports. Jessica later reported sustaining “slight burns on one arm” during her flight, a detail that has fueled accusations of self-preservation over heroism. Her husband, Jacques, 49, was not inside the venue at the time, but the couple’s subsequent moves have drawn even sharper scrutiny.

In the predawn hours, as rescuers combed the rubble and families like Laetitia Brodard-Sitre desperately searched hospitals and morgues for her missing 16-year-old son Arthur—ultimately finding him among the dead—the Morettis allegedly began erasing their digital footprint. Between 3 a.m. and 6:30 a.m., while emergency operations were still active, they blocked access to Le Constellation’s Facebook and Instagram accounts, which had been brimming with promotional videos of the holiday party, showing the venue’s packed capacity and festive setup. The bar’s website was taken offline entirely. “This wasn’t grief; this was calculation,” Jordan argued. “The removal of accounts containing videos of the packed holiday party and earlier festivities showed security concerns came to the managers’ minds straight away.” Prosecutors are now analyzing recovered data from servers and backups to reconstruct what was deleted, viewing it as potential obstruction of justice.

The Morettis were arrested on January 8 in a dramatic dawn raid at their opulent chalet overlooking the Rhône Valley, charged with involuntary manslaughter for the deaths and negligent bodily harm for the injuries. If convicted, they face up to 20 years in prison under Swiss law. Released on bail later that day—a decision that sparked immediate backlash—critics, including Jordan, warned of flight risk. “Why not detain them? They could flee to France, which rarely extradites its citizens,” he fumed, expressing surprise that no financial deposit was required as a bail condition. The couple, through their lawyers, issued a statement professing devastation: “We are overwhelmed with grief and thinking of the victims. We will cooperate fully and in no way seek to avoid responsibility.” Jacques told La Tribune de Genève that “everything was done according to the regulations,” claiming three inspections over the past decade with only minor fixes, like installing anti-panic door handles.

But the facade is crumbling. Crans-Montana’s municipality has admitted a glaring failure: no safety inspections since 2019, despite annual requirements under Swiss fire codes. Mayor Nicolas Féraud expressed “bitter regret” but stopped short of resigning, blaming administrative oversights exacerbated by the Covid-19 pandemic. Experts decry this as inexcusable, noting polyurethane foam’s known dangers—recalled in disasters like the 2003 Station nightclub fire in Rhode Island (100 dead) and London’s 2017 Grenfell Tower blaze (72 dead). “The bar was a ticking bomb, and everyone in charge knew it,” said fire safety consultant Dr. Elena Rossi in a Swissinfo interview. Jordan is pushing for the council to face charges, arguing systemic negligence turned a preventable accident into mass carnage.

Jacques Moretti’s criminal history adds a sinister layer. French newspaper Le Parisien and Belgian broadcaster RTL unearthed records dating back over 20 years: multiple pimping cases, a kidnapping and confinement conviction, and time served in Savoie prison for pimping, fraud, kidnapping, and false imprisonment. How did a man with such a rap sheet secure permits for a high-traffic venue in safety-conscious Switzerland? Whispers of corruption swirl—did the Morettis leverage connections with local politicians and tourism officials, who frequented their exclusive events? Crans-Montana’s economy relies heavily on tourism, generating billions annually, with nightlife venues like Le Constellation crucial for après-ski revenue. “This could expose a rotten core,” a whistleblower told Reuters anonymously. “Bribes, blind eyes—it’s how things work in these resorts.”

The victims’ stories amplify the outrage. Arthur Brodard, 16, from Lausanne, was celebrating with classmates; his mother’s 30-hour vigil—”Either I find my son in the morgue, or I find him in critical condition”—became a global symbol of parental anguish. Emanuele Galeppini, a 17-year-old Italian golf prodigy based in Dubai, sent a final text to his mother: “Mom, I love you…” before succumbing. Six Italian teens, including 15-year-old Sofia Rossi, were repatriated in coffins on January 5, their families collapsing at Milan’s airport. French siblings Lucas and Emma Dubois, 18 and 16, died holding hands, per survivor accounts. British tourist Emily Hargreaves, 19, escaped with burns but lost her friend: “We came for fun; now it’s nightmares.”

Survivors recount hellish details: skin blistering from heat, lungs searing from fumes, friends vanishing in the smoke. One video, analyzed by police, shows flames racing across the ceiling; another captures desperate jumps from windows. Autopsies detail fused bodies and DNA identifications amid charred remains—disturbing evidence that could seal the Morettis’ fate.

As funerals unfold—national mourning declared January 9, with church bells tolling across Switzerland—the scandal escalates. Pope Leo offered prayers; Italian PM Giorgia Meloni dispatched officials; even Chinese President Xi Jinping sent condolences. Class-action lawsuits seek millions, targeting the Morettis and municipality. Switzerland’s intercantonal fire standards body paused deregulation plans, fearing relaxed rules enabled the lapse.

For Crans-Montana, the sheen is tarnished: slopes empty, hotels quiet, a giant heart etched in snow by mourners. The Morettis’ handcuffs signal justice’s start, but the whole truth—corruption, cover-ups, a system prizing profits over people—may yet explode, ensuring this alpine paradise never forgets the night flames devoured dreams.