"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?"