Loch, The

by Steve Alten

  “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.”