Maybe it was fatigue, but when he got choked up I lost it, too, the tears streaming down my cheeks as I embraced him through the bars. "Okay, Angus, I'll be there."

My wife and I were returning to Drumnadrochit from Inverness, driving along the old narrow road near the seven-mile stone. As we passed Aldourie Castle, she suddenly shouted at me to stop, claiming she saw an enormous black body, rolling up and down in the water. By the time I pulled over, all that was left were ripples, but you could tell something big was out there. Moments later, a huge wake became visible, caused by something moving just below the surface. The wake headed toward Aldourie Pier, then its source submerged, showing us two black humps, one after the next. It rose and sank in an undulating manner, circled sharply to port, then disappeared.

—JOHN MACKAY, MARCH 1933 (FIRST MODERN-DAY SIGHTING SINCE SAINT COLUMBA)

Chapter 7

Inverness, Scottish Highlands
Scotland
7:15 A.M.

I woke up screaming, limbs quivering, my boxer shorts and T-shirt drenched in sweat. For a terrifying moment, I wasn't sure where I was, and then the empty hotel room yawned back at me, the television still displaying BBC2 from the night before.

You're okay… you're okay… you're okay …

I kicked off the blankets, stripped off my soggy undergarments, and climbed into a hot shower.

A furious banging on the outside door forced me to abandon the shower prematurely. Wrapping a towel around my waist, I left the bathroom, dripping wet. "For Chrissakes, hold on—"

It was the manager, accompanied by hotel security. "Everythin' a'right here, sir?"

"Uh, fine. Is something wrong?"

The security man pushed his way in. "Some o' the guests reported hearin' an awfy scream. Said it sounded like someone wis bein' stabbed."

"Stabbed? Oh, uh, sorry, that must've been the television, you know, one of those American shows. Woke me up as well."

The manager seemed relieved.

Security continued searching for a body.

"Morning." Max entered, dressed in a gray pin-striped suit and matching tie, his spiked hair slicked back, the mascara gone. "There a problem?"

"They heard someone screaming. It was just the television."

"Course it was. Don't say another word."

"Nothin' here," the security man announced. "But if it happens again, I'll write ye up for disturbin' the peace." He shot me a look, then pushed his way out the door, followed by the manager.

"Wanker. He's not even a real bobby." Max pushed me towards the bedroom. "Get dressed, little brar, the High Court awaits."

* * *

The High Court of Justiciary is the supreme criminal court in Scotland. Because the only purpose-built High Courts are in Edinburgh and Glasgow, all murder trials taking place outside these cities are held in Sheriff Court buildings. Inverness Castle accommodated the High Court in Inverness, providing its own unique medieval setting to the proceedings.