Discovered

by Chant, Daniel Marc

  “You’re in room 33 on the second floor,” he said handing over her key. “Breakfast is 6:30 till 9, you’ll have to find your own lunch and dinner but we serve both in the bar through that door.”

  He disappeared through said door, leaving Devon alone in the entrance hall with her bags and the stairs.

  “Well that didn’t take long,” she said with a heavy sigh. “Guess I’m carrying these for myself now.”

  She grabbed her bags, hefting them and shifting her grip until they were balanced well enough for her to tackle the stairs. She started up. She could already hear the conversations going on in the bar, the anger in the voices. She gave a sigh as she walked and eventually the voices faded away. It was going to be a long week.

  ***

  Just as she’d expected, the reception when she entered the bar was frosty at best. She’d not bothered to unpack her things in her room, lovely though it was. Her stomach had been growling since she’d flown over Newcastle and it had only gotten louder since then. She needed food and figured that the bar was the best place to get it. When she stepped in though all conversation faded away and everyone turned to stare at her. Her step faltered for a minute but she took a deep breath and carried on towards the bar itself.

  “Pint of lemonade please,” she said with a smile at that same man who had checked her in. “And can I see a menu?”

  “Sure,” he said curtly, tossing a menu on to the bar and turning to get her drink order.

  She looked through the menu, her stomach growling louder and louder with each item that she read. There was so much choice and she couldn’t decide.

  “So…” a voice said behind her. She turned to see that it belonged to a burly man, well into middle age who was swaying as he stood there holding his pint. “This is the city girl come all the way out here to prove us locals are all idiots.”

  “Lay off Jack,” the bartender said as he poured Devon’s drink. “I’ve warned you already about this.”

  “It’s ok,” Devon said in a quiet voice, “I expected this.”

  “Yeah Jamie,” Jack said loudly. “She knows she’s not welcome here. She’s just too stubborn to know it I reckon. Big city girl like her, probably thinks she’s got the right to stay where she isn’t wanted and poke her nose in to things that aren’t her business.”

  “I was hired to do a job,” Devon said slowly, the speech well rehearsed. “I’m not trying to poke my nose in or any of the other things you think I’m here for.”

  “Bollocks!” a man shouted out from another table. “You’re on McCallum’s payroll, just like all the rest. You’ll do what he tells you and fuck us all over with your fancy science.”

  “Yeah,” Jack said harshly. “You’ll turn around at the end of the week and tell us all the Nessie doesn’t exist, just like McCallum is paying you to say. You’ve done it all over the place and we know it. Now you’re going to do it to us and leave us screwed.”

  “Mr. Jack,” Devon said, standing up tall. Anger made her bristle and her stomach burned. “I am simply here to prove whether the Loch Ness Monster is real or not. I am not here to do as McCallum orders me to, I won’t say that Nessie isn’t real unless I find that she isn’t. I know how important the legend is to you around here and I wouldn’t want to damage that without proof.”

  “You don’t give a shit about us,” the man from the table shouted out. “You just get your kicks proving things don’t exist and leaving the people who rely on the money from that business high and dry with no more income.”

  “I am well aware of how important Nessie tourism is to you all here,” Devon said harshly. “I will not damage that if I can help it. I am solely interested in the creature, first finding out whether she is real and then what she is. Let me assure you that nothing would make me happier than discovering that Nessie is very much real and very much alive in your loch.”

  “Yeah right,” Jack said. He turned around and headed back to his table. “You’ll say she’s not, mark my words. McCallum wants you to say that so you will, just like all the other ‘experts’ he’s brought in.”

  Devon opened her mouth but closed it again. There was no point trying to argue with these men. They’d made their minds up about her and about what she was going to do. It wasn’t unusual. She’d gone to dozens of places that relied on the income from local legends and received exactly the same sort of welcome. Loch Ness was no exception. She’d learnt the hard way that trying to argue with the locals was pointless until she had evidence to back herself up. She had none of that right now. But she did wish that they hadn’t made their minds up simply because of who she was working for. McCallum had really angered these people and she had made them just as angry by being connected to him.

  The thud of her lemonade being placed on the bar made her turn and she finally decided on what her lunch would be.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Devon spent the next few days doing what she did best; searching for proof that the legend she was seeking was real. She spoke to the local boatmen, anyone who had a boat and would be willing to take her out. Many had tales of having seen the creature but none were willing to take her out on to the loch, even to scan with sonar. Eventually she found one who believed that she only wanted to find out the truth, that she wasn’t just pretending to look before agreeing with McCallum. He had a story of his own about seeing the monster, many people told her that he actually claimed to have interacted with it but no matter how much she asked he would never tell her the story.

  What he did do however was allow her to attach her sonar rig to the bottom of the boat and track in long swathes across the top of the loch. He even provided her with the most accurate and up to date map that he could of the loch. They spent their days going back and forth across the lake’s surface; the boatman, Arthur’s eyes fixed on the surface of the loch and Devon’s locked on to the sonar read out screen. Each little blip on the screen made her heart leap in to her throat and she’d call for another, closer look on that particular location. Arthur would mark the sighting on the map they had and then steer the boat to circle around until the reading became clearer.

  Sometimes they would have to weigh anchor and allow Devon to let out her remote operated aquatic camera to go in for a closer look and to get a clearer view of the murky depths. Usually it was just fish though, swimming and darting around as they played in the shallows. Once or twice there were otters on the screen, chasing the fish for their dinner. Sometimes, however, there would be something else, a large shadow that lay just out of reach of the camera’s lights. It would flicker in the deep green depths, flashing in and out of sight but never getting close enough for a clear look. Devon would attempt to chase the shadow but it would disappear and Arthur would mark the sighting on the map once more.

  Devon spent her nights in her room, poring over maps and photographs, trawling through the dozens of videos that her students had piled on to the hard drive. Her head spun with all of the theories that she read in the books, the images that she had seen and all of the arguments that had been made for and against the existence of Nessie. She’d fall asleep, exhausted and fully clothed on the top of her bed, waking the next morning with aches and pains and a fuzzy brain.

  As the days passed and she got no closer to proving the monster’s existence, she began to lose her energy. The thrill of the search, the excitement of each potential sighting was fading away, becoming only a mere flicker. Each time she saw a video or a photograph that looked like it could be real someone else would debunk it, prove that it was a fake. She felt like she was retreading the same ground that dozens of people before her had taken, nothing new was coming in. It was why she had been so reluctant to take on the job in the first place. She had known that there would be nothing new.

  The occasional chat with Danny in the evenings was what kept her going really. The other woman’s energy and belief in what Devon did and the possibility, however small, of Nessie’s existence filled Devon with just enough hope to make her g
et out of bed the morning after and helped to drive her to keep looking. One night though, that all changed.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  She was sleeping, still dressed and face down on an open book when the shouting started. She woke up, startled and disorientated, not quite knowing where she was. The shouting kept going though and a look around the room reminded her of where she was and what she was here to do. She considered just getting into her night clothes and climbing into bed properly, planning on ignoring the shouting downstairs when four words caught her attention.

  “It was the monster!” a woman’s voice all but screamed.

  Devon was on her feet in an instant and racing down the stairs before she could think. At the bottom of the stairs she was met by a crowd of people, worried and scared looks on their faces. They were crowded together, holding each other and all talking loudly, at the same time, over the top of each other. Some of them turned to look at her and sent glares in her direction.

  “It’s her fault!” screamed the same woman before as she pointed at Devon. “It’s all her fault.”

  “What’s my fault?” Devon asked quietly as she stepped down on to the main floor. “What’s going on?”

  “Someone’s been killed,” said Jamie, the hotel owner. “Down by the loch. They’re saying the monster got him. He’s been torn to pieces.”

  “What?!” Devon gasped. “How? What was he even doing out there at night?”

  “Does it matter?” growled Jack as he stamped towards her. “He’s dead because of you.”

  “What? Why me?” Devon asked. “I’ve been asleep in my room.”

  “You’ve made the monster angry!” Jack cried out. “We all see you, day after day, going up and down the loch in that boat. Chasing after the poor thing. It’s upset and it’s taking it out on us. She killed that man as a warning. You need to go.”

  “That is ridiculous,” Devon snapped. “If there is a monster it won’t think like us and it certainly wouldn’t just kill to send a warning. No animal in nature does that. They kill to eat and to protect themselves. We’re the only ones who kill for other reasons.”

  “It’s your fault and you know it!” Jack shouted. He towered over Devon, glaring down at her.

  “That’s enough Jack!” a new voice snapped.

  Everyone fell silent and turned to look at the newcomer who stood in the doorway. Jack stepped away from Devon but continued to glare at her. The man in the doorway stepped forwards, out of the shadows. It was a man wearing the uniform of a police officer.

  “Dr. Childs?” he asked, walking towards her. She nodded. “I’m Chief McIntyre, head of the local constabulary. I trust you’ve heard about the death tonight?” She nodded again. “Good. Well….We need your help.”

  This was met by shouts of anger and confusion from the assembled crowd. They demanded to know why Devon was being called in to help, why they would use her when she’d already upset the monster of the loch.

  “Because I say so!” the police chief shouted. “Now go back to your homes. Dr. Childs, please come with me.”

  Devon nodded and followed the chief outside. They walked down the street side by side.

  “I’m not happy about this,” the chief muttered quietly. “We’ve not had an unexplained death here in decades, let alone anything like this. We’re just not equipped for it, we don’t have the man power or the skill set.”

  “So why come to me?” Devon asked, “I’m not a pathologist.”

  “No you’re not,” the chief said. “You’re a crypto-zoologist. But you’re also an expert in animals and the marks that they leave. That’s why we need you.”

  “To look at the body?” Devon asked. “So you can find the animal responsible?”

  “Exactly,” the chief said. He stopped and stared at the sky. “For all intents and purposes it looks like this man was killed by the monster, or at least an animal with claws and teeth and that was strong enough to do this.”

  “But you’re not sure…” Devon filled in.

  “No,” he said, looking right at her. “Something about this isn’t sitting right with me. The pathologist, our local doctor, he can give the true cause of death but we can’t read the markings left by whatever killed the man. I need you to look at the body and examine those markings. I’ll provide whatever you need. But I need to know if it was an animal and if it was, what animal. If there’s a creature out there that’s killing people, my people, I need to know and I need to know how to catch it so I can keep my people safe.”

  “I understand,” Devon said with a nod. They started walking again. “Truth be told this is where I normally get called in. Mysterious deaths, strange injuries, animal bodies turning up. That’s when people normally call me for my help. I don’t enjoy proving local legends wrong, believe me.”

  “Oh I do,” the chief said. “I made a point of studying your history and getting in touch with a few of the other chiefs that you’ve helped out. The way I see it is you’re a police officer for the animal kingdom.”

  “That’s a new one,” Devon said.

  They stopped outside a small stone building. There were a few pale faced police officers sitting on the wall nearby. One was leaning over and she could hear the sound of retching. The chief turned to her.

  “This isn’t going to be pretty I’m afraid,” he said. “Are you sure you can handle it? I can get pictures taken and sent to you if you’d prefer?”

  “No,” Devon said firmly. “I’ve got a strong stomach. You can’t operate on an animal’s insides if you don’t. Besides, I prefer to see the injuries for myself if you don’t mind.”

  “Not at all,” the chief said. “Right this way.”

  He led her into the building and down a long corridor. He stopped outside of an iron door and handed her gloves, a hair net and a long white coat before putting his own on.

  “This is usually our funeral parlour,” he said, his voice muffled. “It serves the entire area for about 50 miles all around. It’s never busy but it’s got a steady stream of customers.”

  “Death waits for no man,” Devon said. “Shall we go in then?”

  The chief nodded and opened the door. Devon went in and was immediately hit by a wave of cold and then the smell of death and embalming chemicals. In the centre of the room was a metal table with a blood covered corpse laying on it. Massive chunks of flesh were missing, revealing the red muscle and yellow fat beneath. White ones glinted in the bright light that hung over the body. Another man in a white coat leaned over the body, examining it and he barely looked up as they entered. Devon nodded her hello when he looked at her though and went straight to the body. The chief hovered behind her, closer to the wall than to the body.

  She leaned over the body, looking at the wounds that she could see.

  “They were definitely made by something sharp,” she said, talking aloud to herself. “And curved, definitely. There’s just something…”

  She leaned in closer, her hands gently reaching out to push and pull at the cold flesh. Silence filled the room as she looked, examining each and every wound that she could see. The pathologist on the other side of the table would point something out now and then and helped her to move the body when she asked. It was a long process and soon extra light was coming into the room from the windows high up on the walls. Dawn was breaking.

  She eventually straightened, groaning at the pain in her back. She washed off and followed the pathologist and the police chief out of the room.

  “Well?” the chief asked.

  “He died of blood loss,” the pathologist said. “Those injuries were deep and he would have lost a lot of blood within minutes. Alone that would have been enough. But a few of the cuts were over major arteries and veins. It would have taken seconds. Probably not even long enough for him to feel much pain. The marks were definitely made with something sharp, very sharp.”

  “So he probably didn’t suffer then,” the chief said. He sighed heavily. “That’s something at least.”
>
  “A lot of the wounds seemed to have been inflicted after death occurred,” the pathologist continued. “There weren’t the same bruising or blood within the wounds like with the others. They were all consistent with the same source but not all done at the same time. The worst of the wounds, particularly the parts where flesh was removed almost down to the bone… that was all done post mortem.”

  “Dr. Childs?” the chief asked, looking at Devon.

  “Those wounds are definitely strange,” she said. “I’ve never seen anything quite like them before. They look at a glance like they could have come from an animal, the damage is consistent with animal attacks that I’ve examined before.”

  “So what animal was it?” Chief McIntyre asked quickly. “Do I need to clear the area?”

  “I don’t think it was an animal,” Devon said with a shrug. “I’ve seen the results of animal attacks, many, many times. They look like they could have been done by an animal sure, or at least that’s what it’s supposed to look like. But an animal did not do that.”

  “How can you be sure?” the chief asked quickly. “Are you completely sure?”

  “I’d stake my reputation on it,” Devon said. “Whoever did this wanted you to think that it was an animal but it wasn’t. Those injuries, all of the markings, they’re too precise and surgical. There’s no imperfections in them like there would be with an animal’s claws or teeth. Whatever made those wounds had no damage done to it. Any animal capable of causing that sort of damage would have already gained damage to themselves.”

  “Anything else?” the chief said as he made notes in his notebook. “Besides the injuries themselves?”

  “That isn’t enough?” Devon asked. The chief shook his head. She sighed. “Fine, aside from this gut feeling I have… it’s the way the attack looks to have gone down. Like the doctor said, the worst of the injuries came after death. That’s not how animals attacking humans work, not at all. They do the worst damage when you’re alive and if they attack for protection… once you’re dead and stop moving they lose interest and wander off.”