Connections

A middle-aged man in a cheap suit entered the windowless room and sat down at the table opposite an unkempt, slovenly dressed man and a professionally dressed woman. “Hello, I‘m Detective Rogers. Mr. Gaugin, you and your counsellor, Ms. Chania, have had time to confer. Now I would like to ask you some questions.”

Gaugin’s head jerked to the side. “No, you must listen.”

Ms. Chania grabbed Gaugin’s arm. “Say nothing.”

Gaugin’s shoulders spasmed. “No, they must list, listen.”

The detective steepled his hands together on the table. “I will gladly listen to your confession, to killing those four poor women.”

Gaugin’s head twitched. “No. No. No. I didn’t kill them.”

The detective sighed. In a measured voice he continued. “We’ve connected all of the dots. You did it.“

Gaugin blew a raspberry. “No. No. No.“

“A month ago you left a message that a woman was going to be killed the next night and a woman was.” The detective stared at Gaugin.

Gaugin’s head twitched.

“Nothing to say?”

“You didn’t ask a question.”

“Do you have anything to say?”

“A month earlier, I left a tip that a woman was going to be killed and no one was killed.”

“Your tip also said the murderer likes math. You like math don’t you?”

“The university is filled with people who like mathematics.”

The detective leaned back in his chair. “All of the women that were killed worked in the sex trade. Your mother worked in the sex trade and was murdered when you were ten. Are you looking for your mother?”

Gaugin leaned back, laughed loudly and turned to Ms. Chania. “He thinks he’s Freud and that I’ve got a mother fixation.” He turned to face the detective and started to laugh hysterically.

“After your mother’s murder, you passed through multiple foster homes until you were put in an institute for violent behavior.”

Gaugin shivered. “I’m better now.”

“Dr. Jobs classified you as a classic paranoid schizophrenic.”

Gaugin blinked rapidly. “Jobs was, is incompetent. I was never schiz, schizophrenic. I have Tourettes syndrome.”

“So you admit to being paranoid?”

“I’m not paranoid, I’m smart. I learned to trust no one, not even doctors”

“I’m a cop, you can trust me.”

Gaugin howled. “Because you’re a cop, I’m supposed to trust you? You probably believe Oswald shot JFK.”

“Many criminals return to the scene of their crimes. Security cameras show you returned to all of murder scenes, just like a criminal. Confess.”

Gaugin’s laughter stopped. “My mother’s murderer was never caught. I don’t want those women’s murderer to get away.”

Ms. Chania shook her head and said, “That is all circumstantial evidence. My client has been exceedingly cooperative. Now unless you have something else my client and I are leaving.”

“Well, uh…”

Gaugin barked, “No. I listened to you, now you listen.”

Detective Rogers leaned back and smiled. “Sure, I’ll listen.”

Ms. Chania grabbed his arm. “Don’t say anything. He’s playing you.”

“Doesn’t matter. Another woman will be killed”, Gaugin turned towards the detective, “unless he listens.”

Ms. Chania let go of his arm. “Fine.”

The detective’s gaze went from one to the other. “Sure, convince me that someone who’s been unemployed for years and sews tinfoil in his clothes can catch a murderer that a squad of detectives can’t.”

Gaugin closed his eyes and sighed. “Detective, for the sake of the murdered women, listen.”

The detective nodded. “For the women, of course, I’ll listen.”

“On your laptop, make a table of the dates of the murders, preceding full moons and subtract the dates.

The detective’s lips curled. “Sure, whatever you say.” He worked away on the laptop. “Done.”

“What’s the list of the differences?”

“One, two, three, eight.”

Gaugin waited before asking. “Are you familiar with the Fibonacci sequence?”

The detective looked away and squinted. “Maybe.”

“The sequence starts with one and one and then every number is the sum of the two previous numbers. One, one, two, three, five, eight.”

The detective’s eyes opened wide. “That almost matches.”

“Yes, five is missing. That was my tip about the murder that didn’t happen.”

“Good, thanks. I’ll tell the squad.”

“Five and eight is thirteen. There has been a full moon since the last murder, add thirteen to it.”

The detective stared at Gaugin and then worked on the computer. “That’s tomorrow!” The detective got up. “I have to tell the squad.”

Gaugin snapped, “We’re not done.”

The detective stopped.

Gaugin twitched. “Plot the murder scenes on a map.”

The detective rushed out of the room.

After the detective left Ms. Chania said, “Be careful.”

Gaugin twitched and muttered, “I can, I must stop the killing.”

The detective re-entered the room with other detectives and put the map on the table.

“Here’s the map.”

“Draw a line in sequence from murder to murder.”

Another detective gave Rogers a pen, who then drew the line. “Huh, that forms a curve.”

“Yes, it is. Measuring the distances between murders, you get the same Fibonacci sequence.“

“Whoa.”

“Extend the curve by thirteen.”

Detective Rogers stared at Gaugin for a moment then extended the curve. “Fourteenth and King.”

“Same answer I got. So tomorrow night at Fourteenth and King there will be another murder.”

All of the detectives started yelling.

Gaugin twitched and said, “Now, we’re done, unless you have any more questions.”

“No, you’re free to go.”

As Gaugin and Chania walked to the door, Gaugin halted and turned to Detective Rogers. “You’re right, I don’t work. I make a living, a good living playing the stock market.” With those words, they left the room.

*****

Three days later Gaugin answered knocking at his door to find Detective Rogers, who said, “Thought you’d want to know we got him.”

Gaugin nodded. “Good.”

“Math tutor who got laid off.”

Gaugin twitched. “Consistent. Thank you.” He paused while closing the door, “Anything else?”

“No,” the detective started to turn away, “unless you have a stock tip.”

“Not today.” With that Gaugin closed the door.