Mount Misery

by Angelo Peluso

  “I know, Nick. It all makes me just want to throw up. The reality of it all is hard to comprehend. I’ll see you in a bit. Okay?”

  As Katie dressed, she noticed Ned Mack Jr.’s business card lying by her car keys. She would call him on the way to the office. He might just have something to add to the equation. With some luck, he’d be at his desk. But first she called Rick to find out if he’d heard anything about Jack.

  “Hey there,” she said.

  “Did you sleep well?”

  “Hardly.”

  “You would have slept better with me.”

  “Excuse me while I barf. Have you heard anything yet about Jack?”

  “Not yet. I was just getting ready to call Carole. Why? What’s up?”

  “Just on my way into the office to meet with Ted. I have one other call to make before I get there so I can’t really talk much now. Keep me posted on Jack and I’ll give you another call after my meeting.”

  “Good deal. If you are up for it, I’m buying drinks later.”

  “We’ll see about that, Rick. I have to get through this meeting before I can think about my social calendar. Bye.”

  While pumping gas at the Sunoco station, Katie re-examined Ned Mack’s business card: Senior Research Scientist, Evolutionary Biology. She thought the coincidence odd given the findings on the killer fish. Katie dialed his number.

  The phone rang several times with no answer. She started the car and pulled out of the station, letting the phone ring. Ten, eleven, twelve rings. She was about to end the call up when she heard a voice on the other end, “Good morning, Ned Mack here.”

  “Good morning. This is Katie DiNardo at Fish and Game.”

  “I know who you are, Dr. DiNardo. I’ve been waiting for your call. Any closer to solving your problem? I worked with Karen Hammond to analyze your tooth DNA. Interesting findings if I may say so.”

  “Interesting, yeah. Thanks for your assistance. Is there other information about the findings you care to share?”

  “Not so much about the findings. Are you sitting down, Katie?”

  “Are you serious, Ned? I’m driving and on my way to a very important meeting.”

  “You may want to pull over. You are going to want to pay attention to what I have I say, Dr. DiNardo. It may shed a whole new light on your problems.”

  Katie was in downtown Port Roosevelt and pulled into the town parking lot. She drove to the back of the lot, where the party boats were moored, and turned off the engine.

  “Okay . . .”

  Ned Mack Jr. told Katie the story of the East Coast nuclear power plant accident. While Ned wasn’t aware of all the details of the accident, he did know bits and pieces from conversations he overheard his father having with coworkers.

  “The leak was covered up and I think my father’s death was not an accident.”

  “That story is beyond belief, Ned. Why disclose it now?”

  “I believe the mutated fish that are doing the killing are a direct result of that specific radiation leak. My dad was also a fisherman and he told a friend that, at the time of the accident, there was a very large school of bluefish in the bay. He expected to see a massive die off of that school, but it never happened.”

  “That doesn’t mean those fish weren’t contaminated and then died elsewhere,” Katie said.

  “That may very well be true but when I connect the findings Karen and I made to the incident at the power plant the specific mutations we are seeing in those fish make a lot more sense.”

  “It does make more sense, but . . . I need time to absorb all this.”

  “Let me leave you with this, Katie. You have evidence of bite marks associated with the killings and attacks, patterns that you now know closely match to the dentition of bluefish. Karen and I have irrefutable scientific evidence of cellular and chemical transmutations . . . and DNA that alters the killer bluefish. The only open question is how those mutations occurred. Aside from that radiation leak, very little else could have caused the magnitude of those genetic changes in the fish.”

  “Ned, thank you for all this. Perhaps we can talk again.”

  The only thought that went through Katie’s mind as she ended the call was: Holy fuck! Jesus Christ! We are totally screwed! Katie realized all too well the implications of what she had just been told and now she had to figure out fast how to tell Ted Gunther this bombshell news. Her problem was on the verge of whirling completely out of control.

  CHAPTER 35

  “You’re late.”

  “You should only know why, Nick.”

  “Another amorous Ricky encounter?”

  “No bullshit, okay? We gotta talk before we meet with Ted.”

  “He’s in his office, Katie, doing his nervous dance. He got your messages and he’s eager to hear what we have to say. So make it fast.”

  “I just got off the phone with one of Karen’s colleagues, Ned Mack Jr., and what he had to tell me will blow your socks off. I’m still trying to digest it all.”

  “Is he the guy who helped analyze the tooth?”

  “Yes, but he disclosed something to me that has been buried for thirty years and that has a direct link to the killings we’ve been experiencing.”

  “That sounds almost clandestine.”

  “There was a leak, Nick. A fucking radioactive leak . . . years ago . . . along the East Coast. Mack believes there is a connection between that leak and the killing fish that now swim in the Sound. He has some compelling reasons and evidence.”

  “Are we now talking fish that glow in the dark?”

  “Nick, these bluefish or their descendants came into direct contact with contaminated discharge from a leak in a spent fuel rod cooling pool. It was radiation that mutated the cellular structure and chemistry of these fish. Ned Mack’s father ran the operation back then. We are dealing with firsthand intelligence.”

  “It’s somewhat plausible, Katie. But this is one of life’s Jesus Christ moments. You’d better be right and you’d better bring an oxygen tank into the meeting with Ted for when he passes out.”

  “Sounds to me like we are up shit’s creek on this one, Katie.”

  Of all Katie’s expectations about the killings, this was about as bad as it could get.

  Ted looked over at Nick, hopeful he might get a more supportive response, but Nick just shrugged his shoulders and poured salt into the wound. “It’s pretty bad, boss. There could be hundreds, maybe thousands of these things in the Sound, and eradication, if that is at all possible, is going to take time. And time is something we don’t have much of.”

  “Okay. Okay. I get the picture. Any suggestions about what we should do before I take this upstairs?”

  “I think the first thing we need to do is warn the public,” Katie said.

  “You mean close the beaches?”

  “I don’t believe we have to go that far but we need to prohibit swimming all along the central north shore of Long Island.”

  “What about the west end and the north fork? And how about informing Connecticut and Rhode Island?”

  Nick responded. “The attacks have all been centralized in the Sound. Nothing has yet happened west of Smith’s Bay or east of Boulder Point. The central Sound seems to be where these fish prefer to hunt. I suggest we recommend prohibiting swimming in that zone and advise town officials on either side to use discretion.”

  “We can’t mandate the closure of any beaches,” Ted Gunther said. “All we can do is recommend. Each town board will take counsel from our department and the police, and they will each have to make their own independent decisions. If threats to public safety are not addressed adequately then the counties and the state can intervene, but we aren’t closing anything.”

  “Ted, we really have no choice here and we really don’t have much time,” Katie said, stressing that there was no other option. “We need to recommend public warnings and prohibit swimming. If these fish attack again, based on what we now know, we will have no reasonable def
ense in a wrongful death suit for our lack of action.”

  Ted knew his back was against the wall on this one and that he needed to mobilize support among the top levels of leadership at Fish and Game, even the EPA. “You’re right, Katie. We don’t have much time. Nick and you have to ride shotgun with me. Let’s run this up the flagpole.”

  Ted Gunther, Katie, and Nick spent the next four hours on conference calls with top state officials, county executives, and police chiefs. They even patched in the governor’s office. Much to Katie’s dismay, and despite her presentation of Karen’s findings, the entire group of officials found it all too hard to believe and declined to issue warnings or close beaches without first engaging independent science consultants to review the circumstances of the case, even dismissing Ned Mack’s disclosures as nothing more than unsubstantiated rumors. Bureaucracy at its finest.

  The local town officials were the most vocal. While they bitched and moaned during the early stages of the investigation about not having enough information on the killings, now they turned their backs.

  As one official put it: “This is the last big weekend of the holiday season. Residents who live here and tourists who come here to visit do so because of the surf and sand. We are an island, surrounded by water, and you expect us to just close down access to that water because of some science fiction mumbo jumbo? If you are wrong, our economy will lose millions at a time we can ill afford to do so, and we will have created unnecessary panic.”

  Katie viewed their concerns as a lack of fortitude, and all she could think of was: Not a pair of cojones among them. She knew she was right, yet she also knew how hard it was for others to believe the story. Katie feared that the panic created by going public with this would pale in comparison to the panic that would ensue if the killer fish went on an eating binge over the coming weekend. It would be like a coastal buffet with humans as the main course.

  Katie was proud of Ted for supporting her as aggressively as he did but, in the end, he caved in to the pressure. He was too close to retirement to try and shake up the system and put his pension at risk. In his mind, he elevated the problem and took the burden off his own shoulders. To some extent, his conscience was clear but he cared deeply about the welfare of those he felt obligated to protect. He just hoped it wouldn’t again turn tragic.

  CHAPTER 36

  Katie was physically and emotionally drained. Most of all, she was scared, not for her own well-being but for the unsuspecting public that could further fall victim to the killer fish. She was frustrated at her herself for not being able to do more to halt the deaths. Katie feared it would take a miracle to get through the coming weekend without another tragic incident, especially with all the beach goers that would be in the water and the fishermen in their boats. She was distraught over the inaction by those leaders entrusted to protect the public interest. How they could rationalize away the crisis and turn a blind eye toward potential mayhem was beyond Katie’s comprehension. And then there was the not-so-minor issue of the bluefish tournament. Her intuition kept telling her that something very bad was going to happen and neither she nor anyone else would be able to stop it. Katie just wanted to go home and crash in her bed, but this was one of those times she really needed to be with Rick.

  When Rick answered his cell phone, the voice at the other end said longingly, “If you’re still buying, I’m ready for those drinks.”

  “Guess it didn’t go too well?”

  “Rick, you have no idea. Those bastards put their heads in the sand and refused to do anything but wait this out. They even refused authorizing another press conference.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Just leaving the office parking lot. How’s Jack?”

  “He’s doing much better and seems almost back to normal. But he’s still talking about the mermaid. And the more he talks about it, the more whacky the whole situation sounds.”

  “I still wonder what that’s all about? Odd that he would continue to recall that part of his ordeal. Maybe it was just one of those near-death visual experiences.”

  “How about we grab a few drinks and dinner? We can talk about it then.”

  “I’d like to go home first to take a shower and freshen up a bit. To say I was sweating today would be a gross understatement.”

  “It’s five-thirty now. I still have to call the captains about tomorrow’s plan for trying to lock in on your monster fish. I’ll pick you up at seven. We’ll go to Casa Mariachi.”

  “Sounds good. I do love their shrimp fajita. And a couple of margaritas would do me well right about now. Make your calls and I’ll be ready when you get here.”

  “Good deal. See you later. Love you.”

  “Love you too.”

  Katie’s head was spinning and she was troubled by yet another gnawing question: What the hell’s up with Jack’s mermaid? Had Jack actually seen something or was he experiencing hallucinations from some form of post-traumatic stress? In all the years Katie had known Jack, he was nothing less than rational and always in control. While he rarely talked with her about his sniper days in Viet nam, Rick did pass along some of Jack’s stories. Jack had come close to meeting his maker a few times in southeast Asian jungles, and he apparently came close to the end again, this time a lot closer to home. Katie couldn’t help but wonder if his vision of a mythological aquatic creature had something to do with the killer fish, or more importantly, why he was still alive.

  Rick called each of his captain friends one by one to review the plans for the weekend scouting mission and to reaffirm their specific role in the plan. All captains would be on the water for both days of the bluefish tournament.

  Captain Sandy Bassonet had two orthopedic surgeons expecting to be put on the winning bluefish. The prize money paled in comparison to what they each netted from their joint practice. They just wanted bragging rights, and Captain Bassonet would work his butt off to accommodate that goal, but he wanted bragging rights too.

  Captain Valerie Russo had canceled her charters and would host Nick Tanner on board. Rick thought that a bit surprising but was glad those two had hooked up. She knew the Sound as well as any other captain and Nick knew fish better than anyone who’d be on the water those two days. He probably knew more about bluefish too than anyone, except Katie. They’d make a good team.

  Captain Al Robinetti would forego any charters for the weekend, opting to fish with his son and daughter. As a skilled captain and one trained in the scientific process‚ his powers of observation would be invaluable.

  Captain John Sullivan’s two party boats would be packed to the rails and‚ as usual‚ he’d be fishing deep water out toward the middle of the Sound. Sully would be in constant contact with his brother, the skipper of his second boat. Given Jack’s experience, Rick suspected these fish might be around the Middle Grounds and the adjacent shoal during daytime hours. With the two party boats chumming the waters all day‚;; and with all the bait that would be in on more than 130 tempting hooks‚ the stage was set for possible encounters.

  Captain Joey Marrone had charters for Saturday and Sunday but would not be fishing for bluefish. Rather, he and his clients would be in search of little tunny, a highly-coveted pelagic game fish that visit the Long Island Sound during late summer and early fall. Since these fish are constantly on the move, Captain Marrone would travel far and wide along inshore areas of the Sound in hot pursuit. His range would provide a good assessment of what was taking place throughout a large area from the western Sound out toward Plover Dunes.

  Although the captains would be shoving off from different ports and harbors along the Sound, they’d all be connected via VHF radios and cell phones. If they encountered anything unusual, they would use the cell phones since other boats often monitor VHF channels for fish reports. What Rick wanted to avoid at all costs was a potentially dangerous situation if the killer fish were spotted. The entire fleet would want in on big fish no matter what they were. The captains would all check in with Rick aga
in once they were on the water in the morning. Rick expected to burn a ton of gas as he and Katie patrolled the entire area of coverage, from Smith’s Bay east to Mount Misery Harbor. He was pleased with his plan and more confident than ever that his team of captains was the best for the task at hand.

  Katie had showered and walked through a fine mist of Acqua Di Gio, her favorite fragrance. Rick liked that too. For added measure Katie applied a bit of perfume to her pulse points: the crook of each the elbows, the back of the knees, the nape of the neck, the wrists, and her cleavage. She dressed in jeans and a tee shirt that proclaimed life is good. Moccasins and a baseball cap would round out Katie’s outfit. She liked the scent, and she felt comfortable. It should be a delightful evening. All she had to do was wipe the killer fish from her mind.

  Rick was right on time. Katie was sitting in an old wooden rocker on her small front porch, the soft light of dusk framing her petite and attractive body. She radiated with an aura that caused Rick to momentarily forget about dinner. She rose from the chair and walked toward the car as Rick exited his vehicle to the passenger-side door. He was mesmerized. The entire killer fish episode had brought Katie back closer to him than she had been in a very long time. Rick had no intentions of squandering this opportunity to win back Katie’s affections once and for all. Rick noticed the small overnight bag clutched in Katie’s right hand, and as she approached the truck, her perfume began to weave its magic. The spell was cast.

  “Wow! You look great and you smell even better.”

  “Well . . . you always did like Gio’s water. And you don’t look so bad yourself. Is that a new tee shirt?” Katie said with a playful smile.

  “Only the best for you. And it’s clean. It even has a picture of a bluefish on the back.”

  “You really know how to spoil the perfect moment, don’t you?” But Katie was very happy to see Rick and, just before getting into the truck, she got on her tip toes and kissed him gently on the lips. It was one of those kisses that said, Thank you, I love you, and there’ll be more later.