“No. Please. Go ahead.”
“It’s been my experience that the best way to feel like part of the team is to get off the bench and play. Take a few snaps. Get hit. Maybe go deep.”
“You mean contribute.” She couldn’t keep her eyes from trailing down to the bag under the chair Beau was sitting in. It was the bulk of her research and much of John’s. She made copies of as much as she could without John knowing but her intent was to use it secretively. Beau could not possibly have known what he was sitting on.
“Don’t take that the wrong way. I want you to be part of the team. The sooner that part starts paying off, the faster the team grows. It’s a business.”
“Is it? I honestly didn’t see you as a bean counter. I honestly thought you—”
“We,” he corrected her.
“We had the resources to just relax and work. Was I mistaken?”
Beau leaned back and crossed his legs to Louisa’s relief as his one down foot moved slightly further from the bag. “We’ve got funds. But the sooner we show something for the funds, the sooner more come in. If we kick back and enjoy ourselves for even one season, we’ll be…”
“Right back where I was?”
“So you see my point. You were welcome like any bright experienced scientist. We all bring something to the table. The sooner we lay it out, the better.”
She studied him for a long while. He made sense. As much as she wanted to prosper, she couldn’t do it without him. He had a fantastic facility and was more than justified in wanting it to continue. She extended her leg and slid her foot alongside his. She grazed his calf seductively.
Spencer literally gulped in nervous anticipation. It was far from the first time he’d given the “Contribute to the team” speech but it had never turned anyone on before. He watched her smile and then lean forward, toward his lap. Then she went lower and picked up the bag that she had pulled from under him with her foot.
“Okay. I’m in.” She opened the bag and took out a stack of CDs. She handed them to Beau along with the paper files. She even had a dozen small sample boxes with tooth and bone fragments. All were labeled and dated. “So do I get to run them along with yours?”
“This is great, Lou. We’ll run them all in parallel. We’re bound to have some duplicates. Once we sort out what’s unique, we’ll have a starting place.”
“Seems reasonable. But we’re not likely to have all that much duplication. Different hemispheres. Different climates. Different scientists.”
“You’d be surprised. I didn’t confine myself to the west coast of the south island of New Zealand.”
“So where all do you go? I mean where do you get your stuff?”
“Anywhere and everywhere. You can’t expect earth-shattering breakthroughs by turning over rocks. You might get lucky once in a lifetime. What you mostly get is the other side of the same damn rock the last hyper-patient underachiever turned over. We don’t have time for that kind of palaeontology.”
“So where do we look? The shopping mall?”
“Why not? If the Bee Gees hit a note identical to the mating call of a narwhal, I’d buy the whole collection.”
“I think a ‘best of’ would suffice.”
“What do I care? It’s not my money. At least half of it isn’t. Long as you keep the receipt, buy what you need or even what you think you need. See where I’m going?”
“What if I pay cash for it?”
“Always, always, always get a receipt. We book everything here. That’s hugely important. I’ve established an expenditure pattern that needs to be justified. I need first to spend the money and then be ready to justify it should we get audited.”
“Who would do that?”
“Every time a new director or financial planner comes around, the first thing they do is try to cut me. I can spend every dollar we justify three times but I have to get receipts. They’re golden. So log all your long distance calls and faxes. Keep track of email contacts. And above all…”
“Keep the receipts.”
“Am I that predictable?”
Her mind trailed to the unidentifiable disc in Billikin’s office. She was tempted to ask him where he got that sound but first she’d have to come up with a reasonable excuse for knowing it was there. Beau was both smart and greedy. That was a dangerous combination when he was unwittingly sitting on a gold mine. She elected not to risk sharing this gold mine with Spencer, partly because he was not the type to share. Partly because she had only given him part of the John Nagle collection. She kept his ‘Greatest Hits’ on a few well-concealed CDs under a false bottom in the bag on her lap. Somehow, the combination of these two discs was the real prize. She had to find another way to make this connection.
Chapter Four
The United States Submarine coursed her way out of the Mediterranean Sea and into the open waters of the Atlantic Ocean. The SSN Sunfish was on the final leg of a three-month routine mission that took her northward from Virginia, across the North Atlantic, under a polar ice cap and defiantly close to the north coast of Russia. There they had spent three weeks going through the motions of spying on the launch of a Soviet submarine without bothering to pretend Russia did not know they were there. From the frozen coast Sunfish headed southwest and toward their standard port-of-call in Naples, Italy. Six days later the American seamen were underway and looking forward to home and family.
At a cruising depth of four hundred feet, the nuclear vessel continuously scanned the surroundings by sonar, listening for anything on or beneath the surface in all directions. The sonar-man altered the intensity and reach of the scan at regular intervals. At less than two miles, the detail provided by the military technology was fairly accurate. He could determine the size, shape, speed, direction and range of almost anything crossing the sonar field. By extending the range to five miles, he could tell roughly if something was out there but the detail returned was far less accurate. This long distance scan was most useful in searching for ships or something that sent out a sound or signal of its own.
Slightly more than five miles away, an animal large enough to be picked up on sonar should it come any closer had already detected the sonic vibrations in the water. It knew that whales and dolphins sent out sonic signals but these were irregular bursts, similar yet each unique like a lone bird calling out from the treetops. Only man would use such an unnatural pattern and this creature had learned centuries ago that man was to be avoided.
As birds evolved for survival by virtue of their wings, tigers by their strength and cunning and humans by a developed brain, this animal had survived the ages by incredible stealth. The most vital lesson learned and passed from generation to generation was that man was the most dangerous predator on earth. The great white shark is a fearless killer acknowledging no predator above him in the seas. Teeth of these hunting machines have been found embedded in the hull of boats over one hundred feet long, suggesting that the shark dared test the mettle of this intruder. Despite the size of the boat, the shark perceived no threat. But the arrogance of the great white brings it to a fatal end more and more often each year at the pleasure of man. This beast, though larger than any shark, learned long ago the consequence of taking lightly this voracious killer. He benefited by a highly developed instinctive skill of detecting and evading man.
At five miles, man could see him with the aid of his electronic eyes. But this creature would never knowingly come so close. At the first detection of anything man, it took a deep breath and dove. The beast did not breach the surface and gulp as the whale. It was able to reach up nearly twenty feet and snorkel air, exposing only the automobile tire-sized jaw. Then it descended into the darkness. In the silent world at the bottom, it moved slowly and stealthily away undetected, giving the man-thing a wide birth. After the brief near encounter, both predators went on their way. Both had a destination calling. Both were on a mission. One was near the end of its mission. The other just beginning.
* * * * *
&nb
sp; Eugene was leaning over a cement enclosure housing several large land tortoises. He prodded them with a stick trying to get them to move.
“Come on. Stick your heads out. Walk or something.” He was all but totally exasperated when John walked up with a bucket of fish bits. The stench was evidenced by the look on John’s face.
“What were we doing with this garbage, Eugene?”
“It’s not garbage to the pelicans.”
“Sure it is. They just happen to like garbage. What’s wrong?”
“I think the turtles are dying. Did you feed them after eight last night or something?”
“There’s nothing wrong with them. It’s just cold.”
Eugene was not placated. “It’s not that cold. I think you did something to them.”
“It’s not that cold to you. You’re a mammal. Well, presumably. But reptiles are cold blooded. It’s harder for them to move on chilly mornings. How long have you been here?”
Eugene turned to shoot John a look of disdain. “How long have you been here? These aren’t reptiles. They’re turtles.” He shook his head with disgust and rolled his eyes at the ridiculous statement.
John set the malodorous bucket of fish bits down and started to explain. “They’re tortoises, actually. But it doesn’t matter because—”
He was interrupted by Earl calling him from the office.
“Hey John! Phone call!”
John was not easily moved at this juncture in his life and responded accordingly. He picked up a fish tail and waved it at Earl. “I’m really busy here, Jackson! Can it wait?”
“Long distance! New Zealand! Louisa Morton!”
Eugene poked the tortoise again but it refused to de-shell itself. “See, alligators are reptiles. Turtles and tortoises belong to the turtle family. Like armadillos. See?” He turned to see only the bucket and a fish tail laying aside it.
Inside the office, John lunged at the phone and then tried desperately to pretend he wasn’t out of breath. “Hello?”
“John? It’s me. Louisa.”
“Oh. Hey, Lou. How’s things down under?” His exaggerated nonchalant manner gave him away completely.
Louisa allowed a silent smile and continued. “They’re fine, John. In fact, they’re more than fine.”
“Hmm. Really? Well, I’m doing great here too. I just finished teaching a class on reptile families and reactions to weather—”
“John, listen. Spencer’s got something here. It sounds like part of your work but I can’t identify it.”
“What? What part? What are you talking about?”
“The migratory patterns. John, I think it came down here. Or at least it was down here.”
“What’s Spencer doing looking for Nessie?”
“He’s not. But do you remember those tapes of underwater mating and distress calls? He’s got tapes of some kind of animal and it sounds more reptilian than mammalian. I think it’s the same animal. There’s more but he hasn’t figured it out.”
“Have you told him any of this?”
“No. He thinks it’s whales. I can’t do much now because I’m on his staff and he registers everything for billing. You have to get to a lab so I can get some of this to you.”
John looked around the dingy tool shed of an office. The work surface was cluttered with sandwich remnants and comic books. The computer was an antiquated home PC that had almost worked once.
“Lou, I mean this in all sincerity. I think I should come down there.”
Louisa thought for a second. He registers everything. Always get a receipt. “I think you might be right. Make the arrangements and email me with your itinerary. And bring as much of your research as you can.”
“Just like old times. Eh, Lou?”
“It just might be, John. Hurry up. I miss you.” She hung up the phone and shook herself for letting that last bit slip out.
He heard it. Right before the click John heard her say she missed him. He smiled a smile of contentment. He felt a surge of adrenalin and conviction. He had purpose once again. He was again on the trail of groundbreaking research.
The door of the office flew open and Eugene leaned in.
“Helloooo. The pelicans aren’t going to feed themselves!”
John turned and looked at him smugly. “Actually, they will. In fact by now they already have you little schmuck.” He smiled and walked toward the door, gallantly nudging the adolescent senior out of his way as he exited.
Eugene was not at all sure how to handle the insubordination but gave it his best. “Hey. You can’t talk to me like—”
“Save your breath, pizza-face. I’ll fire myself.” John walked out, leaving his supervisor totally baffled.
Eugene turned and, in a desperate attempt to exploit his superiority, shouted after him, “You can’t fire. I quit you!”
Louisa went back into Billikin’s office. The open drawers were full of files and papers. Nothing too devastating. She flipped through the labeled CDs. One was titled “Billable Expenditures.” $1.00–250.00/$251.00–500.00. Some of the others had different ranges but this was the best starting point. She ran it and opened the spreadsheet. The expenses were listed by date and amount, neither of which helped her much. She did a file-sort by name and panned down to the Ss. SIM was not listed but there was a minor purchase listed from South Island Magic. She made a note of the name. Nothing else seemed even remotely promising. Despite the late hour, she felt an uneasiness come upon her and closed the file. She cleared the memory and started to shut down. But she decided to do one more search. She searched for South Island Magic and found a few hits but found only one retailer. It was a tourist attraction which could be found at certain festivals. It moved from place to place making it all the harder to find.
She suddenly stopped scribbling and listened. She could hear Spencer approaching. He was whistling Born Free as he casually strolled along the corridor. She scrambled to gather the notes and shut down the computer.
Beau turned the corner toward the door of his office just as Louisa came out of Billikin’s. “Oh, hey there,” he said in his friendliest tone. “I thought you were going home.”
She masterfully concealed her nervousness. “Hey. I thought you said you had some research for me.”
“I do,” he said, joining her in the doorway. “Or at least I will. We’re looking for parallels in your work and mine. We may be able to jump over some variables.”
Louisa was very aware of how crowded the doorway just became. She did her best to put space between them without appearing standoffish.
“Variables?”
“Uh huh. Could be you and I were looking for the same thing. Could be we found it.”
She tried to appear comfortable for fear of distancing him, and his secrets. “Well, I didn’t want to dig through your things. Can you dig it out for me?” She had her hands coyly poised behind her back trying to push the paper bits into her pocket without rustling.
Beau looked past her and scanned the office for any abnormalities. “Sure. Come on in. It’ll only take a minute.”
“Um. I can’t. Do me a favor and print out what you have. I do better when it’s in my hands. I’ll get my notes up and cross it with yours when you get them. Deal?”
“Sure,” Beau responded, smiling through his best poker face. “In the morning then?”
“Research for breakfast.”
“So we’re free tonight then?”
“I still have that…thing.” She felt the lie was wearing thin and knew the more she said the worse she’d sound. She just pointed and slipped away.
“Okie dokie then,” Beau called after her. “See you at breakfast.”
He watched her until she was well away. Then he stepped into the office and looked about in earnest. He looked in the desk drawers and all around the work surfaces. While he looked, he switched on the computer. Then he glanced at the phone. He picked it up and hit the redial button. He listened as the phone auto-dialed, and then rang twice. Then it pi
cked up and a woman’s voice said,
“PC World, Queenstown. Can I help you?”
“No, thank you. Sorry to bother you.” He hung up the phone somewhat placated. Then he dialed a new number. This time he heard the distinctive overseas connection and one and a half rings.
“Hello?” said the male voice on the other end.
“Linton? It’s me. Spencer.”
“Kinda late for you, isn’t it Spencer?”
Beau imagined the white-haired man glancing at his watch. “Never mind. I think we’re about to start a new project. I need you to do some digging up there.”
“It’s all I do. Want me to dig anywhere special?”
“Wherever Nagle was digging. I need to know what he was up to.” As he spoke, he pulled a disc from his drawer. It was labeled ‘Nagle–West bank visual 13.’ The DVD was one of several he had in the drawer, all copies of Nagle’s research. He glanced cautiously at the window for security before inserting the disc.
“Nagle didn’t do anything that hasn’t been done a million times before,” Linton objected. “He’s just another hump watcher.”
“I don’t think so,” Beau said as he watched a video scan recording from Nagle’s probe. It was the bottom of Loch Ness and he had been watching them ever since he’d stolen them from Louisa. The technology was exemplary as the visual was mirrored with graphic models running simultaneously. Where the light failed, the sonar gave a clear shape of the subterranean world.
“There’s nothing new in Nagle’s theory,” Linton assured Beau.
Spencer’s eyes eagerly switched from the three-dimensional models of the Loch Ness basin to the slow moving video. “I know, Carl. But I’ve been monitoring his work and it’s very unusual. I think he was on to something but… I think he’s missing it. He’s close. He’s going at it exactly as I wish I had the patience to but he’s just not seeing…” He paused at the shape of a ribcage. It was covered with debris and almost buried in the shale but there it was. It could be more recent remains of one of them. Or it could be a victim. He zoomed in and locked the image.
Loch Ness Page 4