Crans-Montana, New Year's tragedy: 41 dead at the Constellation and five new suspects, including the mayor

A tragedy that has shaken the heart of Switzerland and beyond: the New Year's Eve massacre at the Constellation discobar in Crans-Montana continues to reveal dramatic details and widespread responsibilities. There are 41 victims of that fateful night, including young lives cut short in the bloom of youth, and 115 injured, many of whom are still marked by indelible physical and psychological scars, while the Swiss investigation expands with five new suspects, including prominent figures from the local administration such as Mayor Nicolas Féraud.

The night of terror at the Constellation

Imagine the joy of a New Year's Eve in one of the most renowned ski resorts in Switzerland, Crans-Montana, in the Valais canton: fireworks, deafening music, laughter, and toasts until dawn. But that celebration, at the small Constellation discobar run by the couple Jacques and Jessica Moretti, turned into a hell of flames and panic on January 1, 2026. A fire that broke out suddenly engulfed the crowded venue, causing 41 deaths and over 115 injuries, including severe burns, smoke inhalation, and trauma from the chaos of escape. Among the victims, names that now resonate as a warning: young people like the fifteen-year-old mentioned by Repubblica on January 3, "you can't die at fifteen", a cry of pain that united Swiss and Italian families in shared mourning. Those lives, full of dreams — students, skiers, friends on vacation — were snatched away in minutes, leaving parents, siblings, and entire communities questioning the reason for such carelessness.

The tragedy of the Constellation is not just a dark chapter in the news, but a symbol of how fragile safety can be in seemingly harmless recreational places. The injured, many of whom are still in rehabilitation as of March 2026, recount blocked doors, narrow exits, and an inadequate alarm system, details that have emerged from the initial investigations that have already led to serious charges: manslaughter, negligent injury, and negligent arson. Each victim's story is a punch to the gut: think of the Moretti family itself, now at the center of the accusations, but also of those ordinary patrons, Italian and Swiss tourists, who had chosen Crans-Montana to celebrate the arrival of 2026, unaware of the impending drama.

The first responsibilities and the shadow over the administration

From the pages of Repubblica and Corriere della Sera, publications that have closely followed the developments of the case, a picture of shared responsibility emerges. The couple Jacques and Jessica Moretti, owners of the discobar, were among the first to come under fire for the structural deficiencies of the venue: obsolete electrical systems, non-compliant flammable materials, and an overcapacity without adequate controls. Alongside them, Christophe Balet, the public safety officer of the Municipality of Crans-Montana, and his predecessor Ken Jacquemoud, are called to answer for omissions in permits and inspections. These figures, pillars of the local administration, should have been vigilant, but investigations reveal a lax control system, perhaps typical of a tourist destination that prioritizes business over prevention.

The tragedy hit hard precisely because Crans-Montana is synonymous with luxury and safety: Olympic ski slopes, four-star hotels, an international tourism that generates millions. Yet, that night, 41 people — mothers, fathers, children, friends — lost their lives in the flames, with charred bodies and stories interrupted forever. The injured, 115 souls marked by burns, fractures, and trauma, are still fighting today to rebuild normalcy, with testimonies speaking of screams muffled by smoke and hands reaching out in the dark. Remembering them is not only a journalistic duty but an act of respect: names like those of the very young victims, emblematic of a stolen future, continue to question the Swiss collective conscience.

Five new suspects: the mayor and municipal leaders

Now, just a few months after the tragedy, the Swiss investigation is expanding with a twist that involves the administrative elite of Crans-Montana. Five new suspects, all with key roles in managing safety and controls between Crans and the nearby municipality of Chermignon, recently annexed. At the center is Nicolas Féraud, the mayor himself, accused of the same serious charges: manslaughter, negligent injury, and negligent arson. Féraud, a well-known face in Valais politics, is being held accountable for having supervised — or failed to supervise — the prevention mechanisms that should have saved those 41 lives.

Next to him, Kévin Barras, a councilor with direct responsibilities for security and today a substitute deputy in the Valais cantonal parliament: a man who, according to prosecutors, should have ensured rigorous inspections of public venues. Then Pierre Albéric Clivaz, Rudy Tissières, and Baptiste Cotter, figures with past or current roles in building and safety inspections, intertwined between Crans-Montana and Chermignon. These names are not abstract: they represent the apparatus that, in a high-risk tourist area, allowed fatal exemptions and omissions to pass. The investigations, as reported by Repubblica and Corriere della Sera, focus on minutes of municipal meetings, permits granted without checks, and a culture of laxity that made the Constellation a deadly trap.

Remembering the victims in this context is essential: while the new suspects prepare to defend themselves, families are still mourning. Those 41 people were not numbers, but individuals with passions, loves, and plans. A mother dancing with her teenage daughter, a group of Italian friends on vacation, a DJ energizing the dance floor: their stories, emerging from the media and commemorations, paint a heartbreaking human picture. The 115 injured, many with long and costly therapies, embody miraculous yet marked survival, with testimonies that directly accuse administrative shortcomings.

The victims: stories that must not be forgotten

To avoid falling into oblivion, it is necessary to focus on the victims of the Constellation tragedy, the true silent protagonists of this investigation. Among the 41 dead, young people stand out: the fifteen-year-old mentioned by Repubblica, a symbol of stolen innocence, but also dozens of twenty-somethings and thirty-somethings, drawn by the magic of New Year's in the mountains. Entire families destroyed, like that of an Italian tourist who lost his only son in the flames, or the Swiss couple celebrating their fortieth wedding anniversary. Every name evokes pain: partial lists published by local media speak of ski instructors, university students, local waiters, all united in the drama of a night that was supposed to be a celebration.

The injured, 115 in total, bear visible and invisible scars. Many have suffered third-degree burns, inhaled toxic smoke that has damaged their lungs, or sustained crush injuries while fleeing. Testimonies collected by reporters on the ground describe apocalyptic scenes: "I saw friends disappear into the smoke," recounts a survivor to Corriere della Sera. These human stories amplify the severity of the accusations against the new suspects, Mayor Féraud at the forefront: how can one not check emergency exits in an overcrowded venue? The memory of the victims must drive reforms to prevent Crans-Montana, a gem of Valais, from becoming synonymous with tragedy.

Impact on the community and Italy

The massacre has overwhelmed not only Switzerland but also Italy, with numerous victims from across the Alps drawn to the slopes of Crans-Montana. Municipalities in Northern Italy have declared days of mourning, and the cross-investigations between Swiss and Italian prosecutors add tension. The new suspects, all prominent figures from Valais, now face proceedings that could dismantle the image of Swiss efficiency. Nicolas Féraud, the charismatic mayor, sees his career hanging by a thread, while Kévin Barras and others must explain why safety checks were optional.

The families of the victims, united in commemorative associations, demand true justice: swift trials, adequate compensation, and stricter laws on public venues. In March 2026, three months after the tragedy, candlelight vigils and memorial services keep the memory alive, with banners reading "41 lives for a criminal party". It is a warning for all ski resorts: safety is non-negotiable.

Toward justice: what to expect now

With the five new suspects, the investigation into the Constellation massacre enters a crucial phase. The charges of homicide, bodily harm, and negligent arson weigh on an administrative system that has failed miserably, leaving 41 dead and 115 injured as a bitter legacy. Mayor Féraud and his collaborators, from Barras to Clivaz, Tissières, and Cotter, will have to face technical assessments on facilities and permits, while the civil parties — grieving families — push for a public trial.

Remembering the tragedy and the victims means honoring their sacrifice by pushing for changes: stricter EU regulations on nightclubs, mandatory training for administrators, surprise inspections. Crans-Montana, with its starry sky now clouded by the smoke of the Constellation, must be reborn safer. Those 41 souls watch over so that no party ever becomes a pyre again. Justice, slow but relentless, is the only worthy tribute.