Chapter One Hundred Twenty-Five:
Bobby O’Connor decided to call Sheriff George Anderson. He believes that there is now less animosity between him and the sheriff. Bobby imagines that because of his cooperation during the recent demonstration he may have won him some brownie points with Sheriff George Anderson.
“Hello Sheriff. This is Bobby O’Connor. I want to thank you for allowing me to report on the demonstration in the town commons.”
“No problem, Bobby. I was glad to have you spread the word about my speech to the crowd. For the most part it has been successful in keeping the Ogopogo hunters off the lake,” the sheriff said.
“You said ‘for the most part’. Have there been any violators of your warnings?”
“I can’t say for sure, but I suspect that there has,” the sheriff answered.
“It has recently come to my attention that a man was attacked by a marine predator. The witnesses claim it was just a large fish, perhaps a sturgeon, but I have serious problems with their stories. I am not aware of any large fish such as a sturgeon that could cause this type of injury,” Sheriff Anderson said.
“What kind of injury are we talking about, specifically?” Bobby inquired.
“A very severe one. Most of the victim’s right arm was amputated.”
“You mean torn right off?”
“Could I speak with the victim? Has his condition stabilized enough that I could talk to him?”
“No, he’s dead,” the sheriff replied. “The man was in very poor health prior to the injury. He had a major heart attack while he was in the hospital.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Bobby said.
“What do you think really caused the man’s injury?”
“I don’t know, but our medical examiner, Dr. Marsha Mitchell, will be looking into it,” George replied.
“Have there been any other similar incidents of late?”
“Yes. Dr. Mitchell is looking into another recent incident. Two criminals who had stolen a couple’s boat were reportedly knocked off the boat by a creature with a large green tail.”
“What kind of animal knocked them into the lake?”
“The Harbor Patrol saw the whole incident. Two of their divers went into the lake to look for the two men. What they found was two badly mangled bodies. One man’s torso was almost ripped in half.”
“What kind of animal could have done this?”
“We don’t know. One of the divers reported seeing a very strange, menacing creature that correlates with people’s reported sightings of Ogopogo,” the sheriff said.
“How do you intend to follow up on these incidents?” Bobby inquired.
“I have asked Dr. Marsha Mitchel to call me as soon as she has any more information about what could have attacked the victims. After that I’m going to take my law enforcement staff along to find Ogopogo,” the sheriff said.
“Wow! So you really believe that Ogopogo attacked the victims?”
“What else could it be?”
“When you go out to look for Ogopogo, could you take me along?” Bobby asked.
“I don’t see why not. I’d just have to get it cleared by the Harbor Patrol,” the sheriff said.
Chapter One Hundred Ten:
George Anderson was pulling a double shift at the sheriff’s office. His regular overnight deputy had phoned in sick earlier in the evening. George had just finished catching up on his paper work and was now finding it a struggle to stay awake. He got up from his desk and was now making a fresh pot of coffee. The sheriff really didn’t mind the solitude of the early hours of the morning. As George figured that he had worked hard enough for one day he decided to catch up on his reading. He was a huge science fiction fan and especially liked reading the old classics by authors such as Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, Edgar Rice Burroughs, Jules Verne and H.G. Wells. Tonight he was reading his favorite science fiction novel, The Island of Doctor Moreau By H.G. Wells.
George had recently rented the video version of this novel and had enjoyed it immensely. Just as he’d settled back down in his office chair and took the bookmark out of his novel, his phone began to ring. The office had been so quiet that the sheriff was startled by the ringing of the phone. George sat up straight and picked up the receiver,
“Sheriff’s Office, George Anderson here. How can I help you?”
“This is Allan Hayes, the building supervisor from The Lake Side apartment complex.”
“What can I do for you, Mr. Hayes?”
“I know that this is going to sound very strange, but a few minutes ago one of our tenants moved a rather odd object out of his apartment. It was very large and was all covered up by the drop cloths that house painters use,” Allan said.
“So what exactly did he have under the drop cloths?” the sheriff asked.
“I didn’t get a very good look at it. All I could see was the part that wasn’t covered at its back end. It looked just like a long tail that you might see on an adult size crocodile or alligator.”
“I hate to ask you this, sir, but how much have you had to drink this evening?” the sheriff asked.
“Nothing. I don’t drink alcohol. One of our tenants, Mrs. Carson, witnessed the same thing I did. She was the first one to tell me that it looked like the tail of a full grown alligator or crocodile.”
“So, where was this tenant taking this thing?”
“I don’t know. My guess would be that he and a few other men were taking it to Lake Okanagan,” Allan answered.
“Now, let me ask you a question, Mr. Hayes. How would your tenant be able to keep an adult crocodile or alligator in his apartment with no one noticing it until tonight?” the sheriff inquired.
“It beats me, but somehow he did it.”
“Well as strange as your story is, you strike me as being a little too old to be pulling a prank. I’m just here by myself tonight, but I’ll get one of my deputies to investigate this when he gets here for the day shift.”
“Thank you Sheriff. I’m just concerned that there might now be two dangerous predators in the lake,” Allan said.
“What’s the other dangerous predator?”
Chapter One Hundred Nine:
Jack’s crew made Mike O’Grady as comfortable as possible as they placed him on Jack’s speed boat. They wrapped him up in blankets to keep him warm. Jack Kimberley and the rest of the crew followed behind them in the cabin cruiser. When they got to Jack’s dock they carefully placed Mike on the back of the flatbed truck. All of the crew went for the ride to the hospital. Jack stayed right next to Mike during the whole ride and tried to speak comforting words to his severely injured friend. While the flat- bed truck was on its way to the hospital, Jack gave instructions to his crew.
“Look gentlemen. When we get to the emergency ward at the hospital the medical staff is going to want to know what happened to Mike. We are not going to tell them anything about our encounter with Ogopogo. Let me do all the talking when we get there. I’m going to tell the doctor and admitting nurse that we were all out on the lake having a fishing party. At one point, Mike spotted a large fish near our boat. He leaned over the side of the boat trying to catch the fish with a net. He lost his balance and fell into the water. We didn’t get a good look at the fish, but it was possibly a sturgeon. We heard a blood curdling scream from Mike. We looked over the side of the boat in time to watch the large predator tear off most of Mike’s right arm with its razor sharp teeth. It was too late to save Mike’s arm, but we did manage to get him out of the water and back on the boat. Now, does everyone know the story now?”
“Some of Jack’s crew said ‘yes’ while the others nodded their heads in agreement.
“And one more thing,” Jack said. “In case anyone asks, we all deny that we had an encounter with Ogopogo. Are we all clear on that?”
Once again, all of Jack’s crew nodded their heads in agreement.
The phone in Sheriff George Anderson’s office rang loudly. George picked it the receiver on the first ring.
“Hello, Sheriff’s office. This is Sheriff Anderson. How can I help you?”
“Hi George. It’s Bobby O’Conner from the Kelowna Daily Courier.”
“What can I do for you Bobby?” the sheriff asked.
“I just called to give you guys a head’s up. I got a phone call from a woman telling me that her group is planning a big demonstration for this afternoon at 2:00 PM.”
“So did she say what they would be demonstrating against?” George asked.
“Yes, their group is called Save Ogopogo. They are protesting against all the people who are on the lake hunting for Ogopogo. The group wants all these weekend warriors off the lake. She sounded very concerned because many of the would- be hunters are packing pistols, rifles, harpoons and any other weapon they can get their hands on. Some crews are bringing along large nets and iron cages in hopes of capturing Ogopogo alive.”
“Yeah, we’ve been getting a ton of complaints here at the sheriff’s office. The phones have ringing off the hook,” George said, with a sigh.
“What I’m really concerned about is the hunters finding out about this demonstration. If they catch wind of this, and they very likely will, there is the potential for a show down and possible violence,” Bobby said.
“You are probably right Bobby. That scenario could very well play out,” George said.
“The woman told me that she has already contacted the local radio stations, television stations and other media outlooks. I know that she’s telling the truth because I have been checking the local blog sites and there are a lot of posts both for and against the Save Ogopogo campaign. I’ll be going to see the demonstration because I have to report what goes down for the newspaper. I just wanted to pass the tip onto the Sheriff’s Office because I don’t want to see anyone get hurt,” Bobby explained.
When Sheriff George Anderson, Deputy Bill Rollins and William Everett arrived at the location of the demonstration it was only 1:30 PM. They took a look at Main Street in the center of town. Already a crowd was forming.
“Wow, there’s quite a large group of demonstrators out here already,” George said.” “How many demonstrators would you estimate are out here, Bill?”
“I would guess at least a hundred, Sheriff,” his deputy answered.
“My guess would be around one hundred and fifty,” William Everett added.
“Well, any way you slice it, we’ve got to make sure that this is going to be a peaceful demonstration. If the crowd gets much larger they are going to be that much harder to control,” Sheriff George Anderson said.
“I hear you,” Bill Rollins said.
“To the people in this town, Ogopogo is a very emotional issue.”
“You are right,” William Everett added. “Many people believe that the creature exists and is alive and well living in Lake Okanagan. They do not want their local legend tampered with,”
The three men looked up to see Kelowna Daily Courier reporter, Bobby O’Connor pull up in a silver van. He had a whole news entourage with him including a young attractive female junior reporter, a photographer and a camera technician. As soon as he got out of the van, Bobby huddled with his crew and drew out the game plan for them just like a hockey coach would do. He sent the junior reporter out to interview some of the people holding placards and posters. Bobby asked the video and audio technicians to follow him. They walked towards the sheriff’s cruiser car where George, Bill and William were all standing.
Bobby walked over to Sheriff George Anderson and asked George if he could interview him. Strangely enough, the sheriff was actually welcoming the opportunity of addressing the crowd and the media.
The organisers of Save Ogopogo had already taken over a large stage in the common area. It was beautifully decorated with pictures and artwork of Ogopogo. Large, colorful banners covered with slogans were also clearly visible. A few of the organisers were getting the microphones and speakers set up and were testing both the connection and the volume.
Sheriff George Anderson turned towards Bobby O’Connor and told him to gather up his crew and to follow him to the stage.
As soon as the men arrived at the main stage the sheriff walked up to a woman who appeared to be giving out orders to her charges.
George walked up to the lead organizer. She was a red haired woman with a shapely body that seemed to indicate that she worked out at the local gym on a regular basis. The lady looked like she could be in her late thirties or early forties. She was wearing a yellow tee shirt with red lettering that read, ‘Save Ogopogo’.
The woman saw George climbing up the stairs to the stage.
“What can I do for you, Sheriff? Of course you realize that this is a legal demonstration that has been given full approval by the town council. I have the official papers right here in my purse. I can show them to you.”
“Oh, that won’t be necessary. What shall I call you?”
“You can just call me Elaine,” the woman answered.
Bobby Conner took a few steps closer to the front of the stage. He looked up at the lead organiser and said, “Hello. My name is Bobby O’Connor. I’m a reporter with the Kelowna Daily Courier. I couldn’t help hearing you telling the sheriff that your first name is Elaine. May I ask you what your last name is for the record?”
“Oh, I know who you are, Mr. O’Connor. You used to report on the Kelowna Rockets when you were a sports reporter. My oldest son is a trainer for the hockey team. You are also the reporter who first broke the story relating to Ogopogo this summer. I must say that you created quite the stir in this town. My full name is Elaine Tanner for the record,” the lead organiser answered.
“Thank you, Ms. Tanner. Would it be possible for me to get an interview with you sometime this afternoon?”
“Certainly, Mr. O’Connor. Perhaps later in the afternoon. I need to have a conversation with Sheriff Anderson first. Oh, and by the way, you can just call me Elaine,”
“And you can just call me Bobby.”
“Before you start addressing the crowd I would like the opportunity to make a speech laying down the ground rules for this demonstration. I don’t want things getting out of hand,” Sheriff Anderson said.
“Oh, I can almost certainly tell you that you won’t have any problems with my organization,” Elaine said.
“That’s not what I’m concerned about. Just take a look at those guys getting out of their four by fours and pick- up trucks. Some of them are carrying tire irons and baseball bats. Those good old boys look like they’re aiming for a skirmish of some kind,” the sheriff said, shaking his head.
‘I think I better grab the microphone right now and make something clear to these would be brawlers.” George added.
George walked up the microphone stand and said, “Test, test.” When he was convinced that he had enough volume to be heard George began speaking to the crowd that was spread all about the town common.
“I can see that there are quite a few of you out here this afternoon. That’s all well and good. We have free speech in this country but I don’t want to see anyone here brandishing any kind of weapon. This is a peaceful town and I intend to keep it that way. All you boys that have tire irons, baseball bats and other assorted weaponry can take all your stuff and put it all back in your vehicles. After all, the demonstrators are only carrying placards and I don’t think it would be a very fair fight.” This remark heralded some loud laughter and applause from the Save Ogopogo demonstrators.
“I’ll now call up to the stage the Head of our Fisheries Department, Dr. William Everett.
William slowly and carefully walked the steps up to the stage. He first looked around the audience trying to get a rough idea of who he would be addressing.
“I’m not used to making many speeches but this afternoon I feel compelled to do so.
Sheriff Anderson and I have received an untold number of complaints about all the boat traffic on the lake. Tourists have been coming to our city in record numbers that we’ve never seen before. Most of the town’s visitors have come for one reason and one reason only. They have come with the intention of hunting or capturing Ogopogo. Now, I’m not saying that I believe that this creature actually exists, but I am aware of the dangerous situation that is taking place on our lake. Let me remind you that Ogopogo, if he is real, is a protected species under our provincial legislation. That means, in plain English, that no one is allowed to harm the creature in any way. If you do get close enough to see Ogopogo, remember that you can take all the photos and videos that you like. You are free to conduct interviews with Bobby O’Connor and his news crew. However, you are not allowed to take any guns on the lake or fire any shots at the creature. I also don’t want to see any harpoons sticking out of Ogopogo’s sides either. I don’t know how many of you have read Moby Dick or how of you may think it’s just John Bonham’s drum solo. But I will tell you this. I don’t want to see any Captain Ahabs out there on Lake Okanagan. If you do feel the need for that kind of adrenaline rush, I suggest you buy yourself a copy of Herman Melville’s novel, Moby Dick at the town’s bookstore. If you find reading Moby Dick too much of a challenge, I suggest you buy a copy of Jaws by Peter Benchley instead. These statements were followed by much loud laughter from the Save Ogopogo demonstrators.
“Do you have anything to add Sheriff?” William asked.
“Only this. If I see any violent activity occurring this afternoon I will start making arrests and if this crowd gets out of control, I will not hesitate to call in the RCMP,” Sheriff George Anderson stated emphatically. “Elaine the mic is now all yours.”
Jack Kimberley walked over to his kitchen to make himself some coffee. He was still trying to think of a way to get back at Blake Riley. If only he could make a fool out of his former business partner. An idea occurred to Jack.
What if he could prove that Ogopogo did not exist or make it appear that Blake had really had the wool pulled over his eyes.
Then an ingenious thought crossed Jack’s mind. ‘What if he could find a fake Ogopogo? Who did he know who could build one?’
Jack realized that he and newspaper reporter, Bobby O’Connor had a mutual friend. Someone that they both knew from their high school days. His name was Mike O’Grady, the same man who had analyzed Monique Painchaud’s pictures for Bobby.
Jack remembered how Mike always liked to tinker with things when they were in school. He remembered the time that Mike had made a small scale model of Ogopogo for a science project in grade eleven. Jack wondered if Mike still had kept the model after all these years. He knew how he might find out. Jack would phone Bobby O’Connor to ask if he had kept in touch with Mike O’Grady.
Jack immediately got the phone number of The Kelowna Daily Courier that was printed near the bottom of the front page. He dialed the number and a receptionist put him through to Bobby O’Connor.
“Hey, Bobby. It’s Jack Kimberly, man.”
“Jack Kimberly? I haven’t heard from you since high school,” Bobby said, trying to finish chewing a piece of his lemon Danish.
Jack reached for his coffee while he sank back into his favorite black Lazy Boy chair.
“Yeah, it’s been awhile buddy. I was just thinking about you and Mike O’Grady.”
“Mike O’Grady? I just talked to him a few weeks ago. I asked him to look at a couple of photos and to tell me if he thought they were authentic or fakes,” Bobby said, finally having finished his piece of Danish. He sat back in his chair and loosened his tie getting prepared for some pleasurable reminiscing with an old friend.
“How’s Mikey doing these days?” Jack asked.
“Not the greatest. The last decade or so, hasn’t been very kind to him,” Bobby replied.
“Geez, I’m sorry to hear that. What’s been giving Mike trouble?” Jack inquired.
“Well, his health hasn’t been that good. He’s got arthritis in his knees and his back and he’s really obese now.”
At least that hasn’t changed. He and I were the two fattest kids in grade five,” Jack remembered.
“Mike also has emphysema, but he still smokes like a chimney,” Bobby continued. “Because of his poor health he now collects a disability pension. He also makes a little money on the side repairing computers for a few clients and doing some photography.
“Have you ever heard of a guy named Blake Riley?” Jack asked. While he was talking on the phone, Jack was staring straight ahead at one of his own abstract paintings that he had mounted on the wall in front of him. His living room was starting to smell a bit musty so Jack walked over to open up a window.
“Blake Riley? Anyone who is reading my recent articles on Ogopogo knows who Blake Riley is. He’s that rich, eccentric entrepreneur who’s funding the university’s research project on
Ogopogo,” Bobby said, throwing his Danish wrapper in the plastic garbage container to the left of his desk.
“It’s a small world, Bobby. Blake Riley was in our grade six class when we were in elementary school. I don’t know if you remember him from back then. Blake was a tall, skinny kid who always looked dirty. His clothes were worn out and always had holes in them.
“Now I’m starting to remember,” Bobby said, slightly surprised.
“When I interviewed Blake on the phone I never made the connection. Blake didn’t stay long in our class, as I recall,” said Blake, now sitting up straight in his leather upholstered chair.
“You’re right about that. Blake was only in our room for about six months or maybe less. Blake was a bully who used to threaten little kids for their lunch money. Eventually, Mr. Dole, our principal, called in Blake’s mother to discuss the situation. As Blake’s mom was behind on her rent payments she took this as a sign that they should move again to a place that charged lower rent. So Blake ended up having to change schools again,” Jack said.
“Poor kid,” Bobby said.
“Don’t feel too sorry for him,” Jack said, taking a sip of his coffee.
“No one in our class liked him. Blake was a bully, a liar and a thief. A lot of things went missing in our classroom during Blake’s stay with us.”
“Yeah, I recall losing my geometry set and my Batman comic books seemed to mysteriously disappear that year,” Bobby recalled while scratching his head. He now remembered the day that the school nurse found lice in Blake’s hair. “Life is full of surprises. I met up again with Blake Riley when I attended Business College. I couldn’t believe how different he looked. Blake now looked clean and was wearing a new sweater and an expensive pair of dress pants. I asked him about his life after he left our grade six class,” Jack said.
“I wasn’t aware of Blake’s change in character until it was too late. It wasn’t too long after we both graduated from Business College when Blake approached me with a business proposition. Blake had a lot of charisma, and still does in a devious sort of way. I ended up joining Blake’s business venture.
At the beginning our business took off like a rocket. Within a year we were both making more money than we’d ever seen in our lives. Things went smoothly for a few years, then Blake went turncoat on me. He started having an affair with a woman who persuaded Blake to forsake the business that he and I shared to join her in her new business venture. Blake didn’t even pay me the courtesy of letting me know what he had done. Heck, he didn’t even ask me to join the new company that he would help build,” Jack said angrily.
“So, the jerk double crossed you,” Bobby said.
“That’s a huge understatement. Blake was disloyal to me and almost ruined me financially,” Jack replied.
Jack was starting to get red in the face and his blood pressure was starting to spike. Even telling Bobby about this situation caused Jack to relive it.
“So, what are you going to do about it, and how does Mike O’Grady fit into the picture?” Bobby asked, becoming very intrigued with Jack’s story.
“I figure that the best way to get back at Blake is to make a total fool out of him. I want to see him totally humiliated,” Jack answered.
“And how do you plan to accomplish that?” Bobby asked.
“I’ve got a couple of ideas that I hope Mike can help me with.”
“Of course you know all about Blake’s participation and funding of the university’s research project,” Jack stated.
“Of course, I wrote several articles about it,” Bobby said.
“Well, I plan to make that project fall flat on its face.”
“And how exactly are you going to do that? You’ve got me really curious.”
“You’ll be the first to know, but first I have to run my ideas past Mike. Have you got his number handy?” Jack asked.
“Well, at least you’re not telling us that the large marine predator is Ogopogo, as I’m sure Kelowna Daily Courier reporter, Bobby O’Connor is going to imply to his readers,” Sheriff George Anderson said with a sigh of relief.
“I’m sure that Dr. Hardy could provide a more educated opinion on whether or not the predator was Ogopogo,” Dr. Mitchell said.
“What? Are you saying that you believe in Ogopogo?” asked the Sheriff with a look of astonishment. “You’re pulling my leg now, aren’t you doc?”
“No, I’m a medical professional and a trained scientist. I’ve learned not to discount any possibility until it has been conclusively ruled out. My father used to spend a lot of time on Lake Okanagan and he claims to have seen Ogopogo upon two occasions,” Marsha answered, in an undoubtedly serious tone of voice.
“Oh great. Just wait until Bobby O’Connor asks you for an interview and you tell him that,” George said, shaking his head and looking down at the floor.
“I would simply tell Mr. O’Connor what I have told you. If he asks if Ogopogo could be the unknown predator in this case, I would tell the reporter that anything is possible, but that it would be unlikely in this case. We, presently, don’t have enough evidence to go on,” Marsha stated.
“I can guarantee that O’Connor will ask you if you believe in Ogopogo,” the sheriff said.
“Once again, I would be very professional and careful in what I would say to him. I wouldn’t want to help him sensationalize his newspaper reporting. On the other hand, I don’t have any idea what Dr. Hardy is going to say to him. It is very likely that Mr. O’Connor will want to interview the professor,” Marsha answered.
“Oh, I think that’s a given,” interjected Deputy Bill Rollins. “The media’s first stop is usually Dr. Hardy’s office when something controversial happens.”
“And I’m sure that Hardy will tell O’Connor that an Ogopogo encounter is a distinct possibility. The professor is quite biased in his interpretations of paranormal phenomena. The only thing that we can be happy about is that he is considered to be a weird bird by most of his colleagues,” George said.
“A bit eccentric for sure, but he is still a darling of the media and the public in general,” Bill added.
“Let’s face it,” the sheriff said. “There is something within human beings that is attracted by magic, the mysterious and the extraordinary. They want to believe that there is something out there in the world that has not yet been discovered.”
“I didn’t know that you were so philosophical, Boss. Oh, there are so many things that you still don’t know about me Bill,” George Anderson replied with a chuckle.
William Everett, the Head of the Province’s Fisheries Department was deeply engrossed in reading The Kelowna Daily Courier.
With a scowl on his face William turned his chair in the direction of his assistant, Max Turner, “Has this whole town gone crazy? Have you read Bobby O’Connor’s latest article on Ogopogo?”
“I thought O’Connor was a sports writer,” Max said taking a long sip from his coffee and moving towards his boss by swivelling around his chair. “He used to cover The Kelowna Rockets games. I don’t know where he got his information from. Every time I’d go to a Rockets game, I’d look up to the press box and see that Bobby was half in the bag before the end of the first period.”
“I thought that he covered the sport’s beat too, but he seems to recently have changed his portfolio. He now is an expert on lake monsters, notably, Ogopogo.”
“Well, I hope he does a better job with that than he does covering junior hockey. He spends more time writing about the fighting during the Rockets games than he does about the team’s skills and abilities,” Max responded.
“You can’t stick that one on O’Connor. The Kelowna Rockets have neither any skills nor any playing ability. He’s got to write about something,” said The Head of the Fisheries Department.
“But I’ll tell you what O’Connor’s fault is. I can blame him for this article. He’s stirring the whole town up writing about all these alleged encounters with Ogopogo. Can you believe this? He thinks that the bodies that recently washed up on the shore of Lake Okanagan have something to do with Ogopogo. I mean, give me a break. Bodies wash up on the shore every summer. People have boating accidents and they drown. They don’t get eaten by Ogopogo,” Everett said as his face started to redden.
“You’ve got to calm down, William. You know what your doctor said about your blood pressure,” Max said with a look of concern on his face.
“I thought you said that Ogopogo was a mythological legend,” Max said.
“Of course the creature is imaginary, but people insist on keeping their favorite myths alive. It provides a little magic to their otherwise boring, ordinary lives,” William Everett said.
“Now listen to this:
O’Connor states that the University of British Columbia’s marine biology department is rumoured to be planning an expedition to search for Ogopogo. This kind of publicity can easily ‘go viral’ in this age of social media. Kelowna, if not all of British Columbia, will become a laughing stock in Canada and potentially around the world,” Everett added emphatically.
Max got out of his chair to refresh his coffee. “Look on the bright side, William. Can you imagine the economic boost this is going to give the tourism industry in Kelowna, and for that matter all of British Columbia?”
“I know this media circus is going to bring in a lot of revenue, but because of that my superiors are going to ask me to give this nonsense my full support,”, Max said, tossing his copy of the Kelowna Daily Courier to the far right hand corner of his oversize desk.”
“You can bet your retirement savings on that,” Max agreed making his way back to his desk.
“Well, I’ll tell you what. They’re not going to get an ounce of my support or approval. Within weeks we’ll have every crackpot and lunatic with a boat hunting for Ogopogo,” Everett said pounding his fist on his desk for added emphasis.
“They could injure or even kill the creature and cause a lot of boating accidents and drownings,” William Everett said continuing his rant.
“Now that’s the second time that you’ve referred to Ogopogo as a real living animal,” Max laughed.
“I don’t believe that Ogopogo’s an actual prehistoric lake monster, like some long extinct species of marine dinosaur, but it could be something living, like a giant eel for instance,” the Head of Fisheries said, trying to explain his previous remark.