"No."
"Good. Come wi' me."
I followed him through the campsite, then along a narrow wooded trail that descended towards the Loch. "What's this all about, Officer?"
"I'm hopin' you'll tell me."
We approached a small clearing where a police photographer was taking pictures. Garbage was strewn everywhere, apparently from a heavy trash barrel lying on its side.
"Oh, Jesus!"
There was little left of the victim to identify. Blood was splattered everywhere, on the ground, across the leaves, the barks of trees, the picnic table… it was as if a dozen gallons of scarlet paint had been set in the clearing and detonated.
The photographer aimed his camera at the lower branches of a fir tree, where the remains of a left arm, severed above the elbow, hung from its perch. More human shrapnel had been tossed into the underbrush. There were fingers, an ankle and foot, still wrapped in a wool sock, scraps of a navy sweatshirt, divots of human hair patches of torn-away flesh.
I turned away, sickened.
"A' right, Dr. Wallace, ye've seen what ye've seen. So tell me, are we dealin' wi' an animal or a lunatic?"
"God, I don't know, I'm not a forensic specialist. If it was an animal, it looks more like the work of a grizzly than anything living in Loch Ness."
"It's no' a bear. Haven't been bears in the Highlands for a thousand years."
I took a deep breath, fighting the nausea. The air held a strange raw scent, like the insides of a rotted intestine. "What is that odor?"
"Again, we were hopin' you'd know. Smells like bad anchovies."
"Or raw sewage. And what happened to the rest of the victim's body?"
"We don't know. We're still searchin' the area, an' a team's on their way tae dredge the shoreline. 'Course, if it ate her—"
"Ate her? Officer, to cause this much widespread damage to an adult human being, the animal, assuming it was an animal, would have to be huge, at least fifty feet, with a bite radius larger than a great white shark's."
"You say if it wis an animal. What else might it be?"
"I don't know." I covered my nose, looking around. "It's possible this entire gruesome scene could've simply been staged to make it look like an animal attack."
"Aye, we considered that. Perhaps, say, an ally of yer father's?"
Suddenly I felt relieved at having spent the night locked up in a cell.
The police officer who drove me to Invermoriston approached. "Sir, two film crews jist showed up. We're keepin' them back by the road, but it willnae be long before they work their way 'round on foot tae see intae the lay-by. The judge specifically said he disnae want the media knowin' Dr. Wallace wis here."
"Sorry, Doctor, that means your time's up."
"Officer, you brought me here, at least give me a few minutes to walk around the area and search for clues. If this was an animal, maybe it left behind some tracks."
"We've a'ready checked, didnae find a thing."
"How would you know what you're looking for?"
"I think we'd recognize an animal track if we saw one. Besides, nothin' as big as ye described inhabits these glens. Personally, Dr. Wallace, I think we've got us a madman on the loose."
Chapter 16
I had just pointed out Urquhart Castle to the children when one of them asked, "Is that a rock out there?" Glancing across the water, I saw something a third of the way out and knew it was no rock. Unable to see it clearly, we hurried down to the water's edge, but by that time, it had gone. Still, it had left a terrific wash which hit the shoreline with such violence it caused one of the children to run back in horror.
It was midday and I was driving north on the A82 out of Fort Augustus. As I passed Cherry Island, I saw a great disturbance in the water, maybe 150 meters from shore. About two meters of a black object appeared along the surface, disappeared, then reappeared about 100 meters closer to shore. The speed of the movement was incredible.
I was back in the Mercedes, heading north on the A82, the chief constable's words echoing in my brain. Personally, Dr. Wallace, I think we've got a madman on the loose. A madman with a sword? Or a murderer with an accomplice, blaming his escapades on a fictitious dragon?
The thought made me ill.
Instead of being returned to Inverness Castle, I was taken to Town House for an emergency session of the Highland Council. By the time we arrived, rumors of a "new Nessie attack" were already circulating across the British airwaves.
Judge Hannam was at the meeting, having called a one-day recess of Angus's trial "to examine the validity of the defense's claims." The jury had been sequestered in a hotel, but few believed the developing events could be kept from them much longer.
The Highlands were becoming a tinderbox, and Angus and his attorney were tossing matches.
Owen James Hollifield, newly elected provost and head of the Highland Council, was a gentle man by nature, though he carried a power-lifter's physique on his squat, six-foot frame. "Chairmen an' Councillors, please… I'd like tae call this meetin' to order. We'll dispense wi' the minutes an' get right at it, if that's a' right by you."
The room quieted.
"By now, ye've a' heard the rumors, so let's see if we can dispel wi' the fantasy an' get tae the facts. Sheriff?"
Sheriff Olmstead stood and read from his notepad. "At approximately four-thirty this mornin', the remains of the deceased were found by her husband along a wooded trail located at an Invermoriston campsite. The victim wis an American woman named Tiani Brueggert, identified by a weddin' ring taken from the remains o' a digit on her severed left hand. While we've found traces o' other body parts an' a large quantity o' blood, the rest o' the victim's body remains missin'. This suggests the victim's assailant either took the body with him for disposal, or tossed it intae the Loch. As we speak, two boats are dredgin' a two-kilometer area along Loch Ness's shoreline. Technically, it is possible the woman is still alive."
"Sheriff, are you suggestin' the victim was kidnapped?"
"I'm only statin' that, at this time, we have no body, only nonvital body parts. However, an' this is only a preliminary report, medical examiners have determined that the woman's left arm wis severed by an extremely sharp serrated instrument, possibly a long blade, an' yes, possibly by an animal's bite."
The room buzzed with opinion.
"Quiet please! As our guest, Dr. Wallace, has pointed out, if it wis an animal, the bite radius wid be bigger than any species inhabitin' our glen—"
"Except for Nessie!"
Murmurs filled the chamber.
"Go on an' ask him whit it wis, Olmstead, he should know!"
"Come on, Wallace, wis it Nessie or no'?"
The provost banged a thick palm against the table for quiet. "This is a Council meetin', no' a mob scene. Sheriff Olmstead's tellin' us whit he knows, no' whit you want tae hear."
"An' what is Nessie exactly?" the sheriff threw back at them. "Last I heard, legends don't kill people. If it wis an amphibious beast, does that make it Nessie? An' since when does Nessie attack humans?"
One of the council rose, pointing at me. "Whit aboot him? He wis attacked."
"Not according to the physician's report," Judge Hannam retorted. "Now all of you, I want you to listen very carefully to what I have to say, because how we react to these grave circumstances will determine how the rest of the world perceives this little community we call home. My courtroom's already been turned into theater, and unless we keep a handle on this woman's murder, this whole Nessie thing's going to blow right up in our faces, just like all the expeditions did back in the 1960s."