Crans-Montana: Fourteen Cameras, Eleven Screenshots — and the Missing Video Evidence Question

In modern criminal investigations, digital evidence is rarely optional.
It is central.
It is often decisive.

Surveillance footage, hard drives, and digital storage devices routinely form the backbone of timelines, reconstructions, and prosecutorial decisions. In many cases, investigators deploy specialized teams — even data-sniffing dogs — to locate and secure electronic evidence.

Yet in the investigation surrounding the fire at Le Constellation in Crans-Montana, a troubling discrepancy has emerged.

Fourteen surveillance cameras were installed inside the venue.
But investigators were reportedly shown only eleven screenshots.

What the Records Show

According to investigative files, Le Constellation was equipped with 14 surveillance cameras, nine of them located in the basement, an area considered operationally sensitive on the night of the fire.

In theory, this setup should have produced continuous, time-stamped video coverage of activity throughout the bar in the minutes leading up to the blaze.

However, during questioning, bar owner Jacques Moretti reportedly did not provide raw video files, hard drives, or full recordings.

Instead, he brought 11 screenshots — images allegedly selected by him — showing scenes from approximately five minutes before the fire broke out.

No continuous footage.
No preceding timeline.
No aftermath.

Screenshots Are Not Evidence — They Are Extracts

This distinction matters.

Screenshots are not raw data. They are derivatives. They freeze a single moment while removing everything before and after it.

They contain no motion.
No audio.
No context.

In forensic terms, screenshots are interpretive artifacts, not primary evidence.

In modern investigations, original video files are typically seized, duplicated under chain-of-custody protocols, and analyzed frame by frame. Metadata is examined. Timecodes are verified. Gaps are identified.

Here, none of that process appears to be publicly documented.

The Question That Won’t Go Away

The central question is not complicated:

Where is the original video footage?

We know — from the Morettis’ own public responses to critical online reviews — that surveillance videos were routinely stored by the establishment, reportedly to identify problematic customers at a later date.

That means the footage existed.
It was accessible.
It was retained.

So why was it not seized?
Or if it was seized, why has that fact not been clearly stated?

Digital Evidence Is the Heart of Modern Investigations

In comparable cases, investigators treat surveillance data as non-negotiable.

Entire servers are confiscated.
Backup systems are mirrored.
Even deleted files are recovered when possible.

Against that backdrop, the idea that an investigation of this magnitude would rely on 11 printed or displayed screenshots chosen by the venue owner raises serious procedural concerns.

This is not about accusations.
It is about process.

The Basement Cameras: Nine Silent Witnesses

Nine of the fourteen cameras were reportedly installed in the basement — the very area that has drawn the most scrutiny.

Basements are not neutral spaces. They are often where smoking areas, restricted zones, or off-limits activity occurs.

Without full video footage, investigators — and the public — are left with fragments rather than sequences.

A still image can suggest anything.
A video can confirm or refute it.

The Smoking Room Image

One screenshot in particular has attracted attention — believed to originate from the smoking room, often referred to as the “forbidden zone.”

The image is ambiguous.

Some observers describe a scene that feels tense, static, almost staged — the kind of tableau one might expect in a crime drama: someone waiting, someone watching, silence hanging in the air.

Others argue it could just as easily depict a dull, outdated lounge — like a 1950s train station waiting room — while champagne flows freely next door.

Both interpretations are plausible.

And that is precisely the problem.

Without video, interpretation replaces evidence.

When Data Is Missing, Narrative Takes Over

Still images invite projection.
They encourage storytelling.
They create speculation.

Video limits speculation by showing what actually happened.

Every second missing from the record creates space for doubt — not just among the public, but within the investigative process itself.

In high-stakes cases, missing digital data is not a minor oversight. It is a structural weakness.

No Conclusions — But Unavoidable Questions

This article does not claim wrongdoing.
It does not accuse investigators or private individuals of misconduct.

But it does state a fact that demands clarity:

Fourteen cameras existed.
Only eleven screenshots have been publicly acknowledged.

Until the status of the original video footage is clearly addressed — seized, analyzed, missing, or destroyed — the investigation carries an unresolved digital gap.

And in an era where data is often the most reliable witness, that gap matters.