The Loch

Chapter 12

The high court of justiciary is now back in session, Lord Neil Hannam presiding."

The judge took his place behind his bench, wished his clerks a cheery good morning, then addressed Max. "Mr. Rael, is the defense prepared to make its case?"

"We are, my lord."

"Then you may call your first witness."

"Call to the stand, Mr. Angus William Wallace of Drumnadrochit."

Angus turned, gave me a wave, and was sworn in.

"Mr. Wallace, what is your relationship with the deceased?" He was a friend and one-time business associate."

"Describe your business dealings with Mr. Cialino for the High Court."

"Cialino Ventures wis interested in constructin' a five-star resort, hotel, an' holiday apartments on a parcel o' land my ancestors owned overlookin' Loch Ness. I selt him the land, which wis tae be paid in installments. He owed me for the last payment, but he'd been puttin' me off for weeks. So I went ower tae his site an' we went for a wee walk tae chat."

"And?"

"An' the lyin' bastard telt me he wis short o' cash, which wis crap, bein' that he'd jist bought his mistress a fancy new diamond necklace no' two days earlier."

I glanced at Theresa Cialino, who seemed unfazed about the mistress comment.

"Johnny didnae ken it, but I saw his tart wearin' it when they left the jewelers together. Quite a piece of ice for that piece o' ass. Ye willnae catch me payin' for—"

"Objection!" The prosecutor was standing. "My lord, the victim's personal life is not on trial here."

"Sustained," said the judge, his dour expression intended as a warning to Max.

Max signaled for Angus to ease up. "What happened after Mr. Cialino told you he was short of cash?"

"He claimed he'd pay me after the resort did some business, an' if I didnae like it, it wis too bad, that wis the price o' doin' business wi' the Cialinos. So I hit him."

"You struck Mr. Cialino?"

"Aye, square in the nose. Didnae break it, but I drew blood, an' he stumbled back a few steps, cursin' up a storm, then he twisted his ankle on a tree root an' tumbled ower the edge, right intae Loch Ness."

"What happened next?"

"I dropped tae my knees an' looked ower the slope. John had surfaced an' wis treadin' water. He wis in fair shape, though blood wis pourin' frae both nostrils. I called oot, 'and that's the price o' doin' business with a Wallace, ye cheatin' bastard.' Suddenly, the water came alive wi' salmon, must've been hundreds o' them. Some were leapin' straight oot o' the water, a few smackin' John right in the heid. Made me laugh, it did, but then… then the sun slid behind a cloud an' I saw it."

"It?"

The benches creaked in unison as the public leaned forward to listen. "Aye. A huge animal it wis, long an' serpentlike, had tae be at least fifteen meters, an' it was circlin' John an' thae salmon like a hungry wolf. Grayish in color, or maybe broon, hard tae tell 'cause it wis stayin' jist below the surface, an' visibility in the Loch's like lookin' through a dark lager. I could jist make oot a bizarre dorsal fin runnin' the entire length o' its body, almost like a horse's mane. John couldnae see the creature, but he could feel its powerful undertow as it circled, an' he grew all panicky, callin' oot tae me for help."

"What did you do?"

"Nothin' I could dae, for whit happened next happened awfy fast. The sun appeared again an' splattered across the surface, blindin' me in its reflection, so that I lost sight o' the beast. An' then …" Angus paused, pinching the bridge of his nose with a quivering hand.

"Go on."

"Then John let oot a cry… a terrible wail it wis, the most awfy sound I ever did hear, only it ended abruptly as the creature grabbed hold an' dragged him under frae below, an' the two o' them jist disappeared."

The courtroom erupted in a hundred conversations, some people laughing hysterically, others aghast, howling and swearing like they'd seen the Holy Ghost. The widow Cialino bit her lip and covered her face in her hands, and more than a few of the older ladies fainted dead away.

Me? I just sat there, incredulous.

The judge banged his gavel for quiet, nearly breaking it in the process. "Let me remind you that this is the High Court. Another outburst and I shall order this courtroom cleared!"

The silence became deafening, no one, save me, wanting to leave.

The judge turned to Angus, a skeptical look on his face. "Mr. Wallace, are you actually testifying, under oath, that you witnessed Mr. Cialino devoured by… by the Loch Ness monster?"

"No' devoured, m'lord, but snatched an' dragged below, absolutely."

I closed my eyes, praying not to see any purple spots.

Angus turned to the jury, reciting a well-rehearsed speech. "I seek no alibis for my actions. It wis wrong o' me tae strike my friend an' business associate, an' I never meant him tae go ower the cliff, that wis an act of God. But I've been sworn tae tell the truth, an' this is whit I've done. No matter whit ye may think, I saw that beast, an' he saw me. Whether he intended to snatch John Cialino or did it by accident, we'll never ken, but snatch him he did, an' he took him straight under, never tae be seen again. The Polis can drag Loch Ness frae now tae my hangin' day, but they'll never find nothin', mark my words, an' I'll never change my testimony, for it's the truth, so help me God."

The judge banged his gavel again, silencing the buzz, then requested all attorneys to join him immediately at his bench for a conference.

The courtroom exhaled and the media's feeding frenzy officially commenced. Reporters typed furiously on laptop keyboards and Blackberrys as fast as their cigarette-stained fingers could move, while others frantically called their editors on cell phones, demanding front- page space in their evening editions.

The judge chastised Maxie with a hard scowl. "Mr. Rael, I warn you, if you intend on turning this trial into a three-ring circus, I shall hold you in contempt and burn your barrister's license."

"My lord, the accused has given us his account of what happened, and we intend to prove it to the jury."

"That I'd like to see," scoffed Jennifer Shaw, the assistant prosecutor.

As I watched them talk, my mind underwent sort of an out-of-body experience. Was I really here in Scotland? Had my father actually testified that the victim had been dragged below by the Loch Ness monster?

And what part was I to play in this, Angus's latest charade? The attorneys took their seats.

It was time for Act Two to begin.

"Lord Advocate, would you care to question the witness?"

"Indeed we would, my lord." Mitchell Obrecht shot back, his voice booming through the two-hundred-year-old courtroom. "Mr. Wallace, I've been a prosecutor for twelve years and a barrister for eight before that, and in all my years, I've never heard such a ridiculous, fantastical testimony as yours. The legend of a water beast in Loch Ness has never been proven in fourteen centuries, and even if accepted as a mystery, no accounting has ever been documented of a person actually being attacked."

"Ye're forgettin' the Pict warrior Saint Columba saved. An' there's plenty more attacks that remain documented only as drownings."

"Nonsense, ridiculous. What shred of evidence do you offer to back such a claim?"

"At this juncture, only my word."

"Your word? Do you take us all for fools, Mr. Wallace, or are you merely—"

Maxie interrupted. "Objection, my lord. If the Lord Advocate has a question for the witness, he should ask it, and not use this as an opportunity to practice his closing remarks."

"Agreed. Get on with it, sir."

But the prosecutor had nothing to add, for how does one prove or disprove a legend in a court of law?

Max Rael was about to show us.

"Call to the stand, Mr. Calum Forrest of Invermoriston."

A tall, thin Scotsman in his late sixties took the stand and was sworn in.

"Mr. Forrest, what is your present occupation?"

"Head water bailiff o' Loch Ness."

"And how long have you held this position?"

"Ten years an' two months, but I wis assistant bailiff for seventeen years prior."

Max retreated to his table and removed a document from a manila folder. "Mr. Forrest, would you explain to the High Court the contents of this document."

Calum Forrest took a quick glance. "It's the accident report I supplied ye wi' several weeks ago."

"The accident report of Loch Ness?"

"Aye."

Max handed the document to the witness. "My lord, we'd like this document marked Defense Exhibit A."

"So be it."

"Mr. Forrest, how many drownings were there at Loch Ness last year, and feel free to use the report as a reference."

"Last year? Nine."

"And the year before?"

"Five."

"And the year prior?"

"Six."

"And if you were to estimate an average year of drownings at Loch Ness over the last two decades, excluding the past nine months?"

"Be aboot the same I'd say, roond aboot half a dozen."

"In your opinion as water bailiff, why do so many people drown at Loch Ness?"

"Well, the Ness is vast, o' course, an' she's cold… real cold. A lot o' tourists dinnae realize jist how cold she is 'til their boat tips an' in they go. Only takes aboot a minute or two of exposure before the whole body starts shuttin' doon."

"And what might cause a boat to tip?"

"Could be lots o' things. The Great Glen's like a giant wind tunnel, sometimes blowin' waves mair than two tae three meters high. If ye get in trouble oot there, there's no' many places tae dock. Plus ye get yer usual crazies overdoin' it wi' the alcohol, that makes for lots o' problems."

"Do you usually recover the victims' bodies?"

"Almost never. The extreme cold an' high peat content sink almost everythin' like a rock, an' that's a long way doon. If ye ever drained Loch Ness, ye'd probably find hundreds o' skeletons stuck in the bog."

"So, prior to this year, Loch Ness averages about a half dozen drownings each season."

"Now tell us how many drownings have been reported so far this calendar year."

"Seventeen."

I felt my scalp crawl as the courtroom buzzed again.

"Seventeen drownings? Seventeen you say?"

"Aye, an' tourist season's no' even in full swing."

"Why the sudden change, Bailiff Forrest?"

"Wish I kent why."

"And no bodies?"

"No, sir. As I said, the frigid water temperatures prevent bloatin'. Loch Ness… she dinnae like tae give up her dead."

"Any other unusual happenings around the Loch?"

"Aye. We've been getting' overloaded wi' reports aboot missin' animals, by that, o' course, I mean domestic pets, dogs mostly. Golden retrievers, dachshunds, poodles, shepherds… name a' breed, an' I can check my list an' tell ye whit's missin'. We've posted signs aboot keepin' them chained up at night, but often, they break loose an' chase after rabbits an' squirrels."

"Thank you, Mr. Forrest. Anything else?"

"No… I dinnae think so."

"What about Nessie sightings?"

"Oh, we aye get them, nothin' unusual there."

"But more than usual?"

The water bailiff hesitated. "Perhaps."

"In fact, according to your own log, you've received over fifty sightings since late January through May, is that correct?"

"If it says so in my log, sure. Disnae make them real, though."

"Understood. No further questions."

"Lord Advocate?"

The two prosecutors conferred with one another. "No questions at this time, my lord."

"Very well. Any other witnesses, Mr. Rael?"

"Just one, my lord. Defense calls to the stand Dr. Zachary Wallace."

A hundred heads swivelled in my direction as my jaw muscles locked in place and my throat squeezed tight.

"Dr. Wallace?"

I looked up to see my no good bastard half-brother pointing me out to the judge and Court Macer.

"Dr. Wallace, you will proceed to the witness stand immediately." The Court Macer was standing over me now, but I still couldn't breathe, my lungs refusing to draw a breath.

Mitchell Obrecht was objecting, and I silently rooted him on. "My lord, Her Majesty's Advocate has not been informed of this defense witness, who is, in fact, directly related to the accused."

"Mr. Rael?"

"My lord, the fact that Dr. Wallace is related to the accused will have no bearing, once we hear his testimony, which is vital, not just to my client but to Scotland entire. The fact is, my lord, up until a few days ago, Dr. Wallace and the accused had not seen each other nor even spoken for seventeen years and we were not even sure he was coming, prior to late last week. For the record, my lord, Dr. Wallace was given no forewarning that he would be called to testify in these proceedings, and would not have come had he known. As you can see, he is obviously perturbed by all this, and as such, we request that the High Court consider him a hostile witness."

Hostile witness? Thirty seconds alone with Max and I'd be up for murder myself.

"I'm going to give you some latitude, Mr. Rael, but proceed with caution, I warn you."

"Thank you, my lord."

Amid much clatter, I was escorted to the witness box, then sworn in. Angus watched me from behind the prosecutor's table, a smug look of satisfaction pasted on his face.

Glancing around the courtroom, I was surprised to spot True MacDonald, dressed in his Sunday finest, watching me proudly as if attending my graduation.

"Sir, would you state your name and current address for the record."

"Zachary Wallace. Prior to this trip, I was living in a motel in South Beach, Florida."

Max took over the questioning, and I stared at him, filled with a malice once reserved only for my father. "Dr. Wallace, where were you born?"

"Drumnadrochit."

"And how long did you reside in the Highlands?"

"Until I was nine."

"Why did you leave?"

"My parents divorced."

"The accused, Mr. Angus Wallace, being your father?"

"Biological father."

"What is your current occupation?"

"Technically, I'm unemployed."

"I, uh, see. And why is that?"

"Because I don't have a job, asshole."

The judge banged his gavel to stifle the laughter, much of it coming from True. "The witness will conduct himself properly or be held in contempt."

"Let me rephrase. What is your chosen occupation, Doctor? In what field did you earn your Ph.D.?"

"Marine sciences."

"And your present age?"

"I'll be twenty-six in two months."

"My lord, for the sake of time, I'm going to read the highlights of Dr. Wallace's credentials, just so the court understands why we've summoned this witness." Retreating to his table, Max removed several sheets from another manila folder and began reading aloud.

"Graduated with honors from Washington High School in New York… at the age of fifteen. Accepted an academic scholarship at Princeton, where he played football and graduated with honors while earning both a bachelor's and master's degree in marine biology. Received his doctoral degree from the University of California at San Diego… all this before the ripe old age of twenty-three. In the last four years, Dr. Wallace has authored three papers published in Nature and Science and has patented two underwater hydrophonic devices, including one that was used successfully six months ago to locate a giant squid, this in the waters of the Sargasso Sea. In 2003, Dr. Wallace was listed among the Top 100 scientific minds in the world and was on his way to earning a second doctorate from Florida Atlantic University while he taught courses and lectured. Am I leaving anything out, Dr. Wallace?"

"You forgot to mention I had a crush on my tenth-grade math teacher."

That one drew another stern look from the judge. "Last warning, Dr. Wallace. If you insist on making a mockery of my courtroom, you'll be doing it from a jail cell."

The ridiculousness of my predicament got to me then, and I started to snicker.

The judge banged his gavel and cited me for contempt.

Max jumped in before I could extend my jail sentence to two nights. "Our humblest apologies, my lord. As you can see, the witness is a bit unnerved at having to testify at his own father's murder trial."

"Get to your point, counsel, or I shall dismiss this witness and toss you in jail along with your client."

I winked at Max, enjoying a small token of revenge.

"Dr. Wallace… the accused claims to have witnessed John Cialino dragged below by a large water creature, a creature often referred to as the Loch Ness monster. As a doctoral candidate at Scripps, didn't you once author a scientific paper on this same species?"

"No."

"No?" Max strode back to his table, returning with a Xeroxed copy of a report. "I have it right here, Loch Ness: A New Theory. Written by Zachary Wallace, Scripps, 1999. You are Zachary Wallace, yeah?"

"Listen, Mr. Rael, I don't know how you managed to obtain a copy of this document, but it's essentially an unpublished dissertation."

"Why unpublished?"

"My dissertation committee rejected it."

"Rejected? On what grounds?"

"On the grounds that legitimate scientific bodies aren't interested in chasing legends, and they don't like their doctoral candidates chasing after them, either."

"Still, the report certainly makes a good case for Nessie's existence."

"The paper merely highlights Loch Ness's uniquely isolated ecosystem and—"

"Oh, I think it does a wee bit more than that. If I may," Max thumbed through the dissertation to a previously marked page, "And I quote, The true mystery of Loch Ness lies in its relationship with the North Sea and the Great Glen. The Great Glen was forged 380 million years ago when a sixty-mile fault line fractured, creating a huge trench that split the Highlands geology from southwest to northeast. From this gorge, present-day Loch Ness was created, when a massive glacier advanced through the Great Glen some twenty-thousand years ago. As the ice melted and sea levels rose, Loch Ness may have actually existed as an arm of the North Sea. This theory is backed by recent discoveries of sea urchin spines, clamshells, and other marine material made in deposits recovered from the bottom of the Loch. However, once the glacier fully retreated ten thousand years ago, the land rose in an isostatic rebound and the waterways separated, perhaps trapping a few large sea creatures in the process.' End quote."

"Yes, Mr. Rael, this is the mantra recited by most Nessie theorists, that the retreat of the glaciers from the last ice age trapped ancient sea creatures in Loch Ness. But if you had bothered to read on, I go to great lengths to shoot this theory down. Ten thousand years is far too long for a small colony of large predators to remain isolated in a Loch, and inbreeding alone would have terminated their existence some time ago."

"Ah, but then you go on to state… hang on, hang on… ah, here it is, 'A deep-dwelling sea creature repudiated to be as large as Nessie would avoid traversing the shallows that lead out of Loch Ness and the Bona Narrows to the Moray Firth. The solution to returning to the North Sea may, in fact, lie in the Loch's unique geology. While the surface of Loch Ness lies fifty-two feet above sea level, its depths remain more than seven hundred feet below sea level. The bottom of this trough is flat and smooth, covered in a layer of sediment, twenty- five feet deep. At its northernmost section, Loch Ness is blocked by glacial sediment, however, it is now believed its northern basin may extend beyond Inverness and all the way to the Moray Firth. It is therefore likely that the extreme depths of the Great Glen do not stop at Loch Ness, but may in fact, continue north into the sea by way of a deep underground aquifer."' Max stopped reading. "Aquifer? That's an underground river, correct?"

"A river running through stratum… through rock, yes."

"And do you still stand by these words, Dr. Wallace?"

"It's just a working theory."

"A working theory from an accomplished scientist. Now let's look at your working theory about Nessie." He turned to the next marked section. "Again I quote, 'It is my opinion that the animal referred to as Nessie, if it exists, is an undiscovered species of sea creature, perhaps even a mutation. Even in this day and age, large, extinct land and water creatures are being discovered all the time, thanks to advances in technology and our ability to gain access to hostile environs. The giant Muntjac of Laos, the two hundred pound Saola, a cowlike beast, and the discovery of six new species in the Andes Mountains all being examples. Though most probably of the same species, Nessie is not, however, the same animal confronted by Saint Columba in 565 A.D., back at a time the theorized Loch Ness aquifer may have been open to the sea. In fact, our timeline suggests the modern-day Nessie is a rogue, an animal that became trapped and cut-off from the Moray Firth, not millions or even thousands of years ago, but post-Saint Columba and fairly recently at that, most likely within the last hundred years.'"

I looked around, amazed at the number of people nodding their heads in agreement.

"Dr. Wallace, could you clarify this last part for our jurors?"

"What part?"

"About the monster being less than a century old."

"Again, it's just conjecture."

"Humor us."

I took a deep breath, fighting to maintain an even temper. "The Great Glen… it's a seismically active area. The last major earthquake took place in 1901 and was so violent it actually cracked the bank of the Caledonian Canal. The epicenters of these earthquakes are usually around Lochend, located at the northern end of Loch Ness, precisely where a theorized aquifer running northeast into the Moray Firth might lie. It's possible debris from the 1901 tremor sealed off the aquifer's underground access into Loch Ness, theoretically trapping one or more of these creatures, assuming they even exist."

"And the other evidence you cite, Dr. Wallace, the theory regarding man-made explosions?"

I glanced at Judge Hannam, relishing the fact that he too was clearly losing patience. "Is this going somewhere, Mr. Rael?"

"Aye, my Lord, in fact this specific inquiry provides us with a clear reason the creature surfaced in February to attack John Cialino."

"Go on then, but be quick about it."

"Thank you, my lord. Again, returning to Dr. Wallace's research paper, 'Whether one or more of these seismic quakes collapsed the theorized aquifer is unknown, but another event — a man-made event — clearly coincides with the beginning of Nessie's modern-day sightings.

"'It was in the 1930s that construction work first began on the A82 highway. Massive quantities of dynamite were needed to blast through the mountainous rock. No doubt these blasts reverberated through the basin, upsetting any large creatures inhabiting Loch Ness. From this time period forward, sightings of the creature increased dramatically. In fact, while only a handful of sightings existed prior to the A82, they have numbered in the thousands since construction began."

Max closed the dissertation and turned to me. "Dr. Wallace, theoretically speaking, if a large predator or predators were trapped in Loch Ness, would dynamiting the Loch's basin agitate the monster, causing it to surface?"

"You just read my statement. Isn't that what I said?"

The judge eyed me a warning.

"Then, if dynamiting agitated these bottom dwellers back in the 1930s, wouldn't the same hold true for construction that occurred last winter along the banks south of Urquhart Bay?"

"Objection! My lord, this entire testimony, while entertaining to some, has no bearing on—"

"Overruled. Answer the question, Dr. Wallace."

I scratched my head, impressed at Max's logic. "I suppose if dynamite were being used, yes."

Max nodded to the jury. "The record will show that Cialino construction began using dynamite as early as last October, coinciding with numerous Nessie sightings and drownings, as confirmed by the water bailiff"

A fervor rose in the courtroom, temporarily quelled by the judge's gavel.

Max was far from through. "Dr. Wallace, hypothetically speaking, if a large water creature did prey in Loch Ness, is it possible it could have developed a taste for human flesh?"

"Objection! My lord?"

Attorneys and jury stared at the judge, the court's visitors holding their collective breath.

"No, I'll allow it," the judge said. "Answer the question, Dr. Wallace."

I felt exhausted. "A taste for flesh? Hypothetically, yes I suppose, but only if, (a) this creature or creatures of yours was a predator and not a vegetarian, and, (b) only if the species' diet had been substantially altered by some unusual break in the food chain, both of which, might I add, are highly implausible."

"And why is that?"

"Because Loch Ness has an abundance of prey. There'd have to be an unnatural ecological disaster to create such obtuse behavior. As to my unpublished theory about dynamite agitating a large predator, while the majority of sightings have occurred since the A82 went up, there have never been any documented reports of an attack on humans."

Max strolled around the witness box, preparing his next attack on my mental armor. "A personal question, Doctor, if you don't mind. If hard evidence justified your father's claims, would you then be interested in pursuing a search of the Loch?"

"No."

"No? And why not" Max turned, playing to his audience. "Surely, you're not afraid of hypothetical theories, are you now?"

A purple flash of light blurred the vision in my left eye, the warning sign increasing my pulse. "I've no interest in Loch Ness."

"Seems like you once had great interest."

"Not anymore."

"Not even if an investigation could save your own father's life?"

I stared at Angus, meeting the intensity of his gaze with my own. "My father's never needed me before, Mr. Rael. Let him fight his own dragons."

God, that felt good.

Max only grinned.

"Let's get back to John Cialino. You state, correctly, that no attacks on humans, save back to Saint Columba, have ever been documented. However, from a practical sense, if an attack had led to a human being's demise, then would there really be any evidence, any documentation?"

"There'd be a missing person's report."

"Yes, but with no evidence, no body to collect, the report'd most likely record a drowning, yeah?"

"I… suppose."

"We've heard from the water bailiff. He says drownings 'aye been unusually high since construction began on—"

"'Tis the monster for sure!" cried out an old man seated close to True. "Same thing happened back in '33. For the next three years, we had dozens o' drownings! My ain cousin—"

The judge banged his gavel as two officers of the court escorted the old man out. "On the next public outburst, I will clear this courtroom, is that understood?" He turned back to Max, realizing the defense counsel had led him to step in dogshit. "I'm losing patience, Mr. Rael."

"My apologies, my lord. The subject is a sensitive one to many a Highlander, but Dr. Wallace's testimony is vital in determining what really killed John Cialino."

"Wrap it up."

Max looked over at Angus, who nodded.

"Dr. Wallace, please tell the court what happened to you on the evening of your ninth birthday."

"What?" The reference sent stabbing pains behind both eyes. "Dr. Wallace?"

I looked at Angus, incensed that he would bring up such a black chapter in our history, and in a court of law of all places.

"Answer the question, Dr. Wallace."

"My father… he was supposed to take me fishing that afternoon, only the drunk was too busy cheating on my mother to be bothered with his only child."

The courtroom buzzed with opinion.

"So you decided to go fishing without him?"

"Yes."

"In a rowboat?"

"That's correct."

"Had you ever been out on the Loch in a boat alone?"

"Once or twice."

"Tell us what happened to you on this particular occasion."

"Oh, and did I mention the waitress he was with was a minor? They should've arrested your client back then. If you ask me, he's got a lot of nerve judging Mr. Cialino."

The judged banged his gavel. "Direct your replies only to counsel's question, Dr. Wallace."

"My boat flipped over, and I drowned, as in I was legally dead. Lucky for me, the water bailiff at the time, Mr. Alban MacDonald, was in the area and saw what happened. He dragged me aboard his boat and resuscitated me. Literally brought me back to life."

More murmurs filled the courtroom.

"Let's talk about what happened while you were out on the Loch. How did your rowboat happen to flip?"

"It was struck by a tree."

"A tree?"

"That's right, Mr. Rael. As most real Highlanders know, Loch Ness was once surrounded by great forests of Scots pine. When these one-ton trees fell into the Loch, they became waterlogged and sank to the bottom, more than seven hundred feet down. In these great depths, the pressure increases to about twenty-five atmospheres, roughly sixteen hundred pounds per square inch, enough to power a steam engine. The composition of the Scots pine is high in petrochemicals. As the trees decay, tiny gas bubbles form inside the trunk. Eventually, the bubbles reach a point where the pressure within the log is greater than that of the depths, and the tree begins to rise. The higher it rises, the less the pressure, and suddenly the log becomes a frothing projectile that literally explodes out of the water."

'And that's what struck your boat?"

"Yes."

"You're certain of that? Because according to your testimony, you drowned."

"I drowned after my boat was struck. It was a log."

"Then you saw the log as it struck the boat?"

Images suddenly blinked in my brain — subliminal images straight out of my night terrors.

Black water, fog rolling in. The sky suddenly gone topsy-turvy, the rowboat exploding upward, flipping bow over stern.

"Dr. Wallace?"

"No, I… I never actually saw the log, but I felt its impact."

"Perhaps then, it was something else altogether, something much larger? Something alive—"

"Objection!"

"Sustained. Stop leading the witness, Mr. Rael."

"My apologies, my lord. Dr. Wallace, what happened after your rowboat flipped? Dr. Wallace?"

Black water, paralyzing cold. Kick to the surface, limbs trembling. Tread water, so much fog. Which way to swim?

"Dr. Wallace, are you still with us?"

"Uh, yes, sorry. What was the question?"

"Your rowboat flipped and?"

"And I went under, then I surfaced. I was freezing, but I couldn't see the shoreline, it was too foggy. So I treaded water and yelled for help."

"I understand there were salmon in the water. A whole school?"

"Salmon?"

The water frothing with salmon, the fish battering my legs and buttocks.

"There were fish, yes. It's… it's possible they followed the tree up from the depths. Fish'll do that sometimes."

Max leaned in. "Then what happened?"

Sharp pain, like a thousand stabbing daggers …

"Something stabbed me… something below the surface. Coils of barbed wire had wrapped around the log, probably the remains of a decaying farm fence. My left ankle got snagged. As the log re-sank, its weight dragged me under with it."

"Barbed wire?"

"Yes."

"You saw the barbed wire?"

"Of course not, it was too dark and deep, but the fencing entangled me pretty good, stripped the skin clear off of me."

"That sounds positively frightening. You still have the scars?"

"Some. I had to have a skin graft."

"Would you mind showing us the scars, Dr. Wallace?"

The judge and jury leaned forward as I removed my left shoe and sock, revealing a tiny ring of scars that encircled my left ankle, the skin noticeably devoid of hair.

"The plastic surgeon did a nice job. Still, how can you be sure the wound was caused by barbed wire?"

"The physician who initially treated me certified it in his report. There were heavy traces of rust around the edges of the wound."

"I see. And is it at all possible an animal might have bitten your leg, Dr. Wallace?"

A nauseous feeling simmered in my belly as more images from my night terrors blinked in and out of my mind's eye.

Black water. Sinking faster. Struggle… kick… twist, must break free.

"Dr. Wallace?"

"No."

"No, it's not possible, or no you don't remember?"

Deeper… suffocating… ears ringing from the pressure. Suddenly free! Go, Zack… swim away! Get to the light!

"Dr. Wallace?"

The migraine's wave of pain was rising higher by that time, and it was going to be a tsunami. Reaching into my pants pocket, I fished out two Zomig and swallowed them, praying they'd shunt off the coming disaster.

"Answer the question, Dr. Wallace."

"There was no water creature, Mr. Rael," I said, my eyeballs beginning to throb.

"Let's go back a moment, Dr. Wallace. You said you took the rowboat out yourself to go fishing, is that correct?"

"Yes."

"With the new reel your father had given you?"

"Yes."

"Then why did you leave your new fishing rod on the shore?"

"I, uh… what did you say?" A chill ran down my spine.

"The fishing rod. Your father found it onshore after you'd been rescued. You never brought it out with you."

"He did? I… I don't—"

"Why were you really out on the Loch, Dr. Wallace? Were you trying to prove something to your father?"

The courtroom began tilting in my vision.

"What was it you were really searching for?"

The judge leaned over to me. "Are you all right, Dr. Wallace? You've gone quite pale."

I wiped cold sweat from my brow. "It's a migraine. I get them sometimes. This one's real bad."

"You don't like to discuss your drowning incident, do you, Dr. Wallace?" Max cooed. "It's painful for you. It causes the migraines to worsen, yeah?"

I squeezed my eyes shut and nodded.

"Still, we must discuss this frightening chapter in your childhood in order to get to the truth, in order to determine your father's guilt or innocence. Let's go back to the water creature your father described under oath. He claimed it was at least fifteen meters long. That would give it the length and bite radius of a small whale, am I right?"

I looked up at him, the spots in my eyes nearly blinding me. "It was barbed wire that snagged my ankle, Mr. Rael. Not a whale or serpent or monster. Barbed wire!"

"And was it barbed wire that nearly swallowed you in half?"

"What?"

"It rose up after you, didn't it? You managed to twist yourself free, but it rose up after you, then snagged you a second time as you fled to the surface. Only this time it took you about the waist, just like it did poor John Cialino!"

My head erupted, and so did the courtroom. The two prosecutors were on their feet, yelling their objections in order to be heard over the crowd, while the judge whacked his gavel over and over, each earsplitting clap sending splinters of pain shooting through my brain as he futilely attempted to regain control of the proceedings.

It was a free-for-all, and I was at the center of the storm.

Barely able to tolerate the jabbing eye pain, I laid my pounding head upon the ledge of the witness box and swallowed great gulps of air, trying my best to quell the volcano of bile gurgling in my gut as long-dormant memories from my childhood continued to burst across my mind's eye.

Free! Race for the surface, faster… faster… A presence …rising from the depths beneath me! Swim faster! Ignore the pain, kick harder… A light! Get to the light… get to the light!

I clutched my head, pleading to the judge for mercy, "My lord, I need a recess."

Angus stood and yelled, "Order him tae lower his troosers, Maxie! His waist'll still be scarred by Nessie's bite!"

An officer of the court shoved Angus back in his chair as the judge beat his gavel again. "Another outburst like that, Mr. Wallace, and I shall have you bound and gagged. Mr. Rael—"

Max motioned to Angus to stay calm. "My apologies, my lord."

"Mr. Rael, finish your questions now, or I shall dismiss the witness to seek medical attention."

"Yes, of course. Dr. Wallace, on or about your ninth birthday, was there any construction going on at Loch Ness? Dr. Wallace?"

"I have no idea," I muttered through the pain.

"In fact, Dr. Wallace, the record shows that a new layby was being blasted at Urquhart Castle, expanding the parking lot from twelve spaces to its present forty-seven. Did you not know that?"

I bit my tongue and swallowed, fighting to keep the bile from rising up my throat.

"Dynamite, Dr. Wallace. By your own theory, an agitator to large predators living in …"

Had God granted me one wish at that moment, I'd have requested a gun. My first shot would have struck Maxie between the eyes, stifling his incessant voice, the second and third bullets reserved for Angus and that pompous judge. The rest of the clip would be dedicated to my throbbing head, ending my misery, once and for all.

But I had no gun, all I had was intense pain and anger.

Judge Hannam was about to add humiliation to the list. "Dr. Wallace, we'll take a recess and get you some medical attention in just one minute, but first, I'm going to ask you to lower your trousers, just a bit, for the jury."

"What?"

The jury leaned forward, mentally salivating, the visitors hunching up in their seats.

I swallowed hard. "Your honor, this is absurd!"

"You're wearing boxers, yes?"

"Yes, but—"

"I agree it's unorthodox, but I mean to put an end to Mr. Rael's antics before this murder trial turns into a search for the Loch Ness monster."

The shadow ascends beneath me, homing in on the trail of blood. It rises higher, I can feel its presence around my knees, I can hear it growling in my ears… oh, Jesus, get to the light, Zachary! Get to the light!

"Clear the courtroom," said the judge, turning to his Court Macer. "Everyone but the jury, the accused, and the prosecutors."

The migraine was skewering my eyes, the Macer moving too damn slow. No one wanted to leave, and I was beyond desperate, the images and the migraine causing my entire body to tremble.

To hell with them!

Standing upon my chair on quivering legs, I unbuckled my trousers, then ceremoniously yanked my pants and boxers down six inches, allowing the High Court of Inverness to ogle my waistline, revealing to one and all, the hideous line of two-inch purple scars that encircled the fleshy upper region of my buttocks.