"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—"