Loch Ness

by Donovan Galway

  “Okay. So what about them? Any more dirt there?”

  “What? Like smut? She’s a schoolteacher for fuck’s sake.”

  “All the better,” said the photographer with a grin. He leered through the telephoto lens at the boat side as he all but drooled at the potential controversy.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The sun touched the placid surface of Loch Ness Nearly four hours earlier than did Kyle Murphy and Mac Gould. Murphy dragged himself across the gangplank to Esperanza at half past eight in the morning. It was only late spring but the Scottish days were already remarkably long. Too long for scientists nursing hangovers.

  Despite the natural human desire to remain horizontal until the alcohol-induced sensation had run its course, the morning sun reminded Murphy that they had groundbreaking data to analyze. He had lain prone as long as he could but the excitement of their sighting was carried to him in the sunlight that burned through the thin curtains of his NessView room. All attempts to rouse Frank Inness with the Christmas morning attitude failed as Frank was, under normal conditions, the late sleeper of the group. Mac offered little more than a grumble as they set off to see what they had seen the night before.

  Like a couple of many years of marriage, they started their routines as if they had done it a million times before. Mac went straight to the coffeemaker and set to preparing their morning caffeine jolt. Kyle walked lazily to the bank of computers and switched all systems on. It took slightly less time to boot up the computer than it did to make a pot of coffee but doing both essential steps simultaneously saved the time of arguing over which was the highest priority in the morning.

  “Can you believe how freaking long the days are up here?” Kyle managed to say over a massive yawn.

  “Tell me about it. I was just about used to the mini-days down under. Going from the south pole to the north pole is the worst kind of jet lag.”

  “It’ll almost be worth it if this pole brings us a groundbreaker. Did you see how it used its front fins to propel itself and used the back fins as rudders?”

  “That was a shocker,” Mac pondered as he literally watched the pot boil. “Frank was saying the bigger animals needed more pull to get through the water. That’s why the large predators had four flippers.”

  “Well, that’s one new discovery we can put our name to. This is looking like a very good move for us. Come on. Open up.” Kyle was becoming impatient with the start-up process though it was opening no slower than usual and actually faster than the equipment he had with Spencer’s outfit. But never before was he so anxious to see what the computer had to show.

  “Yup. Looks like the early bird beats the worm.”

  Kyle cringed at the broken cliché though they had long ago learned not to bother correcting Mac. The system finally opened and he began searching for the stored sighting. The drip coffeemaker growled with the last few drops and blew out a gasp of steam as Kyle’s brow furrowed. “Come on. Where is it?”

  “It’s coming,” Mac replied. “Give it a minute.”

  “Not the coffee. The file.”

  Mac came closer and looked over Kyle’s shoulder to see the screen message ‘File Not Found.’ “Well I’ll be a barrel of monkeys.”

  Kyle exhaled his frustration. His typing became more frantic as he searched the computer for any record of the Plesiosaur sighting. By name or search, it was simply non-existent. It had been deleted.

  A pleasant tune was being whistled outside as it approached Esperanza’s cabin. They both heard it coming but did nothing other than continue searching the hard drive for any hope of restoring the lost file. John entered the room whistling louder and clearer to demonstrate his mood to his team.

  “This has been one of the best days in I don’t know how long,” John said as he strode to the fresh coffee.

  “Already?” Mac dared turn away from the computer.

  “Well, not so much today but the last twenty-four hours. Man what a difference a day makes.”

  “We may have to take your word for that,” Kyle muttered.

  “For what?” John responded though barely listening. He stirred the powdered creamer into his coffee and had yet to look at anything remotely connected to their research.

  “Um… boss? Is there something you might have forgotten to tell us about your systems?”

  “Why? What happened?” John’s tone finally showed a trace of the urgency Kyle had been projecting and Mac denying since John had come in.

  “You know that unbelievably rare animal we found yesterday?”

  “Yeah. Yeah.”

  “Well, we may have lost it.”

  “What do you mean lost it?”

  “I mean it’s gone. We had it last night. I named the file and saved it to the hard drive. Then I shut the system down.”

  “So where is the data?”

  “It’s just gone.”

  “Gone?”

  “Gone!”

  The message finally sinking in, John shouldered in past Kyle and started searching. “No, no! Don’t do this to me! What did you name the file?”

  “I just typed seven dollar signs. I didn’t plan on leaving it very long.”

  John typed at a cautious maximum opening folder after folder without a glimmer of luck. All of the detail they had recorded over the past day was irrevocably deleted.

  “I came in this morning to make a copy of the sighting for security,” Kyle said in a cautious tone. His stomach turned as he watched John’s head drop in defeat.

  Mac placed a sympathetic hand on Kyle’s shoulder. “Looks like you were a day late and a doughnut short.”

  * * * * *

  One thousand two hundred miles away, Davis Billikin watched the image of the Plesiosaur diving. “Now watch this. This is the good part.” As Beau Spencer watched, the ples vanished from head to long neck to tail as if erased. “That’s all they got. It could be a glitch.”

  Beau leaned forward with a greedy glow about him. He drew a deep, long breath through his nose as if preparing to take a plunge. “No. It tunneled in right there. I’ll bet anything that’s the same spot I sent Linton to. Lucky bastards found the breeder and it led them right to the nest.”

  “You mean we found it.”

  “I better mean that. This business pays shit for second place. Did you erase their files?”

  “Like it was never there.”

  “All of the data on this?”

  “And a few others, just for fun. Now who’s the lucky bastard?”

  “Can you fry their hard drive?”

  “I left so many traps and Trojans on Nagle’s system I could do just about anything you want to it.”

  “So I want you to fry it.”

  “I don’t think you do.”

  Beau was not accustomed to his team challenging him. He lowered his brow at Davis, hoping to project some air of conviction. “Do it.”

  “Okay. But I think it’s a mistake.”

  “Why?”

  “Because Nagle likes to make disc copies of everything. He’s suspicious that way. He’s afraid someone’s going to reach into his computer and steal his stuff. We don’t know if he made a disc of that recording. If he’s got a copy, he can load it up anywhere.”

  “So how do we stop him?”

  “He’ll try to put it right back on here to see what happens.”

  “Then you fry it?”

  “The disc, the hard drive and his last hope. He should be doing it any time now. I’ll watch and see. If he doesn’t load a disc, it means he doesn’t have one.”

  Beau stood back and admired the day’s work. As he watched Davis emotionlessly watching John’s computer, he was brought to comment.

  “Makes me wonder how I ever prospered while you were working for the enemy.”

  “This wouldn’t have happened while I was working for Nagle.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because he’s got integrity.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Connor Murdock sat at
his cluttered desk in the tiny office he shared with two other reporters for the Highland Express. He was sure his new storyline was newsworthy beyond the lake community and had hopes of selling to the larger tabloids.

  “I’m not saying the Loch Ness Monster is real. She is,” he pleaded to the editor over the phone. “I know but a half dozen locals have vanished and she seems to know all about it. I’ve got all the dirt right here with pic—” He suddenly stopped and set the phone down as his office door burst open. Aisling came at him like a bounty hunter.

  “Where do you come off with this shite?” she demanded, waving a crumpled newspaper at him.

  “Easy now, missus. I didn’t print everything. Don’t worry.”

  Aisling stopped her advance but maintained a threatening pose. “What everything? What other lies would you print?”

  Murdock opened his desk drawer and produced a handful of pictures of her and John. John was in most but she was clearly the target as none showed her fully dressed and several had her completely nude on the deck of John’s boat or climbing out of the water.

  Aisling knew what a small town would do with this and she’d never live it down. She had a chance, for the moment, to recover and hang onto her job. Once these photos became public, the townsfolk here would never allow her to teach school. She wasn’t ready to move away from the town her family had lived in for countless generations so she thought hard. She clutched the pictures nervously as she looked for a way out.

  “Go ahead,” Murdock said. “Help yourself. I’ve got them all on my hard drive.”

  “What do you want for them?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Nothing?”

  “They’re not for sale if that’s what you mean.”

  “So this is your next edition?”

  “It’s up to you, missus. All I need is for you to keep quiet about this story and I’ll have no reason to… address your credibility, let’s call it.”

  “So if I let you say these horrible things about me, you won’t say any more. Is that it?”

  “That’s it. You decide.” He sat back in his chair smugly.

  Aisling studied the photos. “For God’s sake, I’m a teacher. I work with children. If you print these my career is…” She suddenly realized she was making his side of the argument. Worse, she realized she had no side to make. This man was about as trustworthy as an alley cat but he had her by the heritage.

  “All right. You win.”

  “I know. And I’ll know if you screw with the deal. Got me?”

  “If I were a man…”

  “These pictures wouldn’t be half as interesting. Now away you go. All the best.”

  Without recourse, she turned and stormed out of the office. Murdock had just enough time to smugly think to himself, “Pleasure doing business with you,” when he realized the phone was still lying on his desk. He hurriedly snatched it up.

  “Mr. Niven. Are you still there?”

  “I am, and I think we’re through, sir.”

  “But the story. It’s a two-week run guaranteed. Think about what you’re—”

  “I heard that deal of yours, Murdock. I’d be the last one to claim we’re always irreproachable in our ethics. But your blatant blackmailing of that poor girl disgusts me. I’d better not see this outlandish crap in any more papers or you’ll be reading your own name. It’s up to you, mister.”

  “But Mr. Niven, I—”

  The call ended with a distinctive click. Murdock snarled with the thought of how much money just flew out the window due to Aisling’s timing. He stared at the photos of her and knew if they went public, Niven would have him up on charges. He knew just enough about Alistair Niven to believe he would follow through on the threat. Then he looked at the headline about Nessie. The nervous finger-drumming he had been unconsciously doing since he had hung up the phone stopped. He could still publish about the monster. As long as he didn’t directly implicate Aisling, she would be blamed. She couldn’t speak out because she knew nothing of his gag order.

  Murdock excitedly spun the Rolodex card file on his desk. He stopped at Carl Linton, one of the registered researchers in the area. He was set up south on the other side of the Loch. Murdock knew he needed another leg up. Another episode in the continuing saga. Linton was his best bet.

  “No gag order on you. Is there, Mate?”

  * * * * *

  Beau Spencer had been filling his spare time scanning the Internet for anything related to either Loch Ness or John Nagle. Bringing the Discovery Princess literally halfway around the globe was a major investment. He knew it would be not only a financial blow but a huge embarrassment to arrive there just in time to congratulate Nagle for his discovery. He knew that anything remotely significant would be out there in some form or fashion.

  The keywords he searched were ‘Loch Ness’ and ‘John Nagle.’ While nothing significant relating to John showed up, he always found current topics surrounding Loch Ness. This morning, one in particular caught his eye. He truly didn’t think it to be a lead. It was merely a catchy headline.

  Local School Teacher Caught In Loch Ness Controversy.

  He clicked on the link and immediately found revealing photos of the attractive schoolteacher as she frolicked with an American scientist on the deck of his lavish boat.

  “Nice,” said Davis Billikin from over his shoulder. “Research, boss?”

  Beau didn’t particularly appreciate being crept up on but it was harmless enough. Jones was with him and they read along about the teacher possibly being implicated in a monster hoax. She was reported to have told several of her students that the monster was out there eating dogs and cattle and was responsible for several disappearances over the past several weeks. It was suggested by the reporter that the scientist, Dr. John Nagle, might have been trying to attract attention to his research by stirring up controversy. The photos showed the two in each other’s arms in various stages of undress and two were moonlit silhouettes of her climbing out of the water. These made the suggestion of a collaborated effort extremely plausible.

  “Looks like our friend Nagle is doing a bit of improvisational research,” Beau quipped as he scanned the photos again.

  “So it seems,” Louisa said. She had been standing behind them for longer than anyone knew. She stared at the photos and fumed with a teeming anger she knew to be unjustified. Yet the photos still disturbed her.

  Spencer could not help but pick up on it. “Sorry, Louisa. I know you two were close.”

  “Were being the operative word. We almost got close once or twice. I guess I didn’t have enough to offer him.”

  Billikin adjusted his glasses as he zoomed in for a closer look at the dark photo of the topless Aisling. “Well, she certainly does. I think I’d collaborate with her, too.”

  Beau gestured to Davis to curb his enthusiasm. Looking at Louisa he spoke in a sympathetic tone. “Let it go, Lou. It’s not as if he owed you anything. Or vice versa.”

  “Really? I don’t owe him anything? Well, if that’s the case…” She turned and left the room in a huff.

  Billikin looked at Jones. “If that’s the case, what?” Jones shrugged and returned his attention to the photos.

  Louisa returned a few minutes later with four CDs in her hand. “If I don’t owe him any loyalty, then I guess we can use these as we see fit.”

  Spencer was intrigued. “What have you got there?”

  She loaded one of the CDs into the computer as she explained. “This is only the sum total of our work over the past four years. John doesn’t know I have them. I was hiding them for the right time. Well, guess what.” She hit the enter key to open the files. “These should help us out. Don’t you think?”

  She noticed Spencer and Billikin looking uneasy. “Relax. It’s mine too. Besides. I don’t owe him any loyalty.” She prepared to open the files but Spencer’s computer warned her that the file named ‘Nagle-Ples calls1’ already existed and asked if she wanted to replace it. She turned to r
e-examine Beau’s expression. She looked him in the eye but it was Billikin she heard mutter “Oops.”

  Beau tried to curb her anger. “Louisa. Let me explain.”

  “All right. Please explain why you stole my files. Make me understand why I should trust you more than that lecherous pig,” she growled, pointing to the screen where John formerly appeared.

  Davis put his hands up. “I did it, Louisa. You want to get pissed off at somebody. Get pissed at me.”

  “You went through my stuff?”

  “Yes. And I told Beau I stole it from Nagle myself. Coulda been true. Anyway we needed these calls to cover the migratory path.”

  She looked at him with seething contempt. The tragedy of it all was that he was right. He had only stolen what she had initially stolen and did with it what she was about to do. She turned her focus to Beau.

  “You want the truth? We’ve been using the third and fourth call on that CD since we left New Zealand.”

  “Using them for what?”

  “Bait. We’ve been luring the thing up to its natural habitat. If we can get it into the lake where it can’t hide, we’ll make history.”

  “So you’re using John’s research to make the history he’s been working for his entire life.”

  “And in less than two months,” Billikin said with a sinister giggle. “Cool, huh?”

  Louisa was having trouble deciding how to feel about it. “Cool is hardly the work I would have used, Nutsack.”

  “That would hurt if I gave a rat’s ass what you thought of me, Cruella.”

  “So did it work?” She looked at Beau with a stare so direct as to demand an immediate reply.

  Beau almost smiled. “We think so. Something has been following us all the way, as far as we can tell.”

  Billikin rolled his chair across the room to the sonar station. “It’s big and seems to surface for air once or twice a day but it’s smart enough to stay just out of our range. I can only tell there’s a contact and it’s crawling on the bottom. Beyond that, I’ve got nothing.”