The Oxford Murders Page #8

to celebrate one of the crowning|moments in its history.

If the rumours are true, thanks to|Professor Henry Wilkins, Bormat's

famous last theorem could cease to|be unsolvable in the next few hours.

Hundreds of mathematicians|from all over the world

will meet today|in Cambridge to witness,

live, the public demonstration

that Professor Wilkins will give

in the university's|Number Theory Congress.

For centuries mathematicians

have tried in vain|to answer that theorem.

Will the mystery be resolved?

I'm sorry about yesterday,|but I still think that you should...

Yeah, that I should think|for myself.

Though I haven't been|too successful so far.

Tomorrow the paper will publish|an article about the murders.

In it I explain everything I know.

Everything?

The police think that|if we make it public

and we give our solution to the 4th|symbol, it'll stop the murderer.

What interests him is that

I recognize his intelligence.|That should be enough.

Do you think it will work?

It's the best|I could come up with.

So I have 12 hours|to prove I'm not an idiot.

That just about sums it up, right?

You're not an idiot,|much as you might try.

You know it, Martin,|you just have to remember.

After all, you belong to the sect.

- I know what you're thinking.|- So?

It could be the biggest mistake|of your life, believe me.

I don't believe you.

I think you're lying.

You're right.|I am lying,

but if I distract you long enough,|maybe the bus'll set off and it'll

be too late.

You know, these are a bit|hard to swallow at first,

but after a while|you get a taste for them.

My spaghetti|or my mystery novels?

No, spaghetti|is a great invention.

So are mystery novels.

You know, they make sense.

There's something to find out and|they explain it to you at the end.

In life, nobody|bothers explaining anything.

I don't want to speak|of explanations,

or conjectures, or anything else.

Outside this room nothing exists.

Only you, me

and this spaghetti.

I know what it meant|for you to get off that bus.

It was worth it.

It's only just begun.

Look what you've done.|You're mad.

Mad about you.

You've got some there.

This moment is perfect...

unique.

"The unshaken heart|of well-rounded truth".

Come again?

It's from Parmenides,|he was a Greek stand-up comedian.

He said that reality|is one big lie,

and the only thing that exists

is a single unchanging God.

Wow, you're doing it again.

What?

Talking like|the people from your sect.

- Well, I guess we can't help it.|- I guess.

Now I understand

why girls go out with musicians|and not mathematicians.

That's what he said.

Really? He knew|girls prefer musicians?

No, no, no, no.|The thing about the sect.

"You should know.|You're part of the sect."

- What?|- F***.

No, no, no.|It can't be, it's too easy.

What's wrong?

I have to discover it before|it comes out in the papers.

What?

Oh my God, it's Seldom.

You just have to go along|with his bloody game, don't you?

Yes, I do! It's all|I can f***ing think about.

- Beth was right.|- What?

You're in love with|a bloody lunatic. That old man

- turns you on more than I do!|- Look, Lorna, listen to me.

Just this once, that's all I ask.

When this nightmare's over,|we're getting out

- of here.|- Where to?

Wherever. Outside these walls,|to a place with no books,

where people don't know|their two times tables.

- Sh*t!|- I told you.

It's too early,|even for the bookworms.

What now?

Bookstore!

- Hey, we're closed.|- We'll just be a moment!

At least tell me|what we're looking for.

Ah, here it is.

The sect of the Pythagoreans...

The fathers of mathematics.

They were forbidden|to reveal their secrets.

They functioned like|a religious sect, numbers

were sacred to them,|gods that conformed the world.

No, it's not here.

I'm sorry but you'll have|to come back later.

There's no one on the cash register.

Don't worry.|We don't need to buy anything.

Well, I think|you'd better leave, then.

Oh, give us a moment.|Pretty please? Please.

If you consult our catalogue,

I think you'll find everything|to meet your requirements.

Will you shut up for a minute!|I can't think!

I'm sorry,

but you give me no option|but to call security.

Fine, call security.

Just leave.

It's got to be mentioned|in one of these,

a diagram, or something.

Kind of like that?

That's it. Perfect.

One,

the beginning of all things.|Perfection, enclosed in itself.

The fish.

That's what we thought. The Vesica|Piscis, a Christian symbol, but

this one's much earlier.

It's simply two, the intersection|of two circles. Symbol of opposites,

duality, the war|between good and evil.

Three, the triad,

the synthesis of opposites.|Peace after war.

And the fourth symbol?

The Tetraktys, the quaternary.

One plus two, plus three,|plus four: ten.

Totality, the Demiurge.

It was their divine number.

One, two, three, four.

That simple.

How could I not see it?

Any enigma is easy|once you know the answer.

What are you looking for?

The only thing I know about these|guys is that they had a unique...

understanding of medicine.|You know, if...

intelligence was|the supreme value,

then the mentally retarded|were the greatest sinners.

They used them as guinea pigs

for medical experiments.

They even tried organ transplants...

Oh sh*t.

Thanks very much,|that's all I need!

- Thank you.|- Really sorry.

Come on!

Hey!

Come here!

Come back here!

You two!

Where do you think|you're going? Come here!

I know who the murderer is.

It's okay, John.|Really?

Look, I know I f***ed up|in the concert,

but now you have to believe me.

This time it could be worse, he|could kill more people, probably 10.

Relax.

This time he got in touch with us|directly. We guessed the symbol.

The tetraktys...

Exactly. The message|indicates a particular place.

He told us to send ambulances there.

A road?

The A421. Just past|the Black Cat roundabout.

That's the road to Cambridge.

There's a flyover|on the main road.

Petersen's already on his way.

He'll try to stop the bus|before it reaches that spot.

Have you located the bus yet?

It's three miles from where

you are, sir.|You'll be meeting up

in under a minute.

Petersen here, to all units.

The murderer may be travelling

with them, so keep your heads|down until I give the word.

Where are they?|I can't see them.

- Right in front of you, sir.|- Got it!

Now!

Now!

Jesus!

Turn off the engine!|Put your hands on the wheel!

We made it in time.

They've stopped the bus.

Seldom and the other|mathematicians are safe.

Seldom? What have you done?|You've got the wrong bus!

Hello?

Seldom, you have to speak with|Petersen, there's another bus!

What are you talking about?

It's the girl's father!

What girl?

Martin?

Martin, can you hear me?

The girl in the hospital,|she needs a transplant.

He wants to kill|the kids to save her!

Sir?

Excuse me, sir.|Sir, this way, please.

- That bus has to be stopped!|- Calm down, sir.

They're going to be killed!|I have to talk to Petersen!

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