Dr. Rehan Ahmed, a marine biologist specializing in ancient sea creatures, was on hand to examine the kill. He agreed that this particular species probably measured more than twelve meters, but preferred not to speculate on whether it could be a plesiosaur. Ahmed and his colleague, Dr. Ming Liao, had arrived in the Highlands Tuesday evening from Antarctica for a special conference at Loch Ness’s new five-star resort, Nessie’s Lair. They were joined by George McFarland, an engineer out of Texas who works for Stone Aerospace. McFarland suggested underwater drones might be the best way to identify the species of this new Loch Ness Monster, though Esther Jacobs and other eyewitnesses claim the creature is not shy about surfacing by day. Said Ms. Jacobs, “With the tourist season approaching, it’s just a matter of time before someone videotapes the beastie.”

Liao gritted her teeth. “Bastard even managed to get in the name of his hotel.”

“This isn’t just a local story,” George said. “Those reporters last night spoon-fed this to the Associated Press. Our names are all over this.”

“Once I get the signed agreement from Dr. Wallace, it won’t matter. His presence at Vostok will quash this story.”

Ben chuckled. “Wake up, Ming. Zachary Wallace lost his nerve years ago. He has no intention of signing on to Vostok or any other underwater expedition, and his old man knows it. Angus Wallace played you; he planned this whole Loch Ness Monster story the moment we landed.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Tourism died with the monster, and last night the three of you helped bring it back to life. While you thought you were wooing Angus, the old man was baiting you, distracting you with false promises to get you to Invermoriston to see that carcass. Your presence last night served to validate the hoax and give his story legs—no pun intended. And the beautiful part is you paid him five thousand dollars to do it.”

5

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

—Male proverb.

There is a saying among Highlanders that translates to “a tale never loses in the telling.” Angus must have repeated his tale a hundred times that first week, relishing how he had conned the “Asian harlot” out of five thousand U.S. dollars while priming the pump of tourism in the Great Glen.