There was silence for a while in the room. Then Sukyung said slowly: “The professor understood his visitor had come to kill him and he left a message to us. To write it he used the only objects he had at hand at the moment, the jars with the lunar specimens.”
Qeta turned and went back to the table. “Let’s have a look at these jars. They are the key which might give us the answers we are looking for.”
The jars were the usual jars used to contain the lunar specimens: dust and chips of rocks. Every jar was labeled with a number that identified a file with all the data relating to the specimen in it: place, time, depth, finding team, and other data.
Qeta examined the labels. “The identification numbers are 4, 7, 10, 16 and 28,” he said. “We’ll need to examine the files relating to these specimens. We might find a clue in them, which could lead us to the murderer, but.…” He shook his head, unconvinced. “There is something which is out of place.”
Sukyung nodded. “The fifth jar, the one on his side, isn’t it? Why did he not place it upright as the other ones?”
“That’s the point.” Qeta put his hands on the table. “The lying jar must have a particular meaning, but for the moment it evades me. Nonetheless the professor must have thought it was an important clue, because he placed it differently from the others.”
Sukyung looked at his watch. “We only have two hours and a half yet, Doctor Qeta. Time is running short. We must examine these files.”
Uriel Qeta looked at him. “So you said earlier. Why is the time so urgent?”
“Because the three suspect will get on the ferry to Earth in two and a half hours’ time and once they are out of our jurisdiction it will be much more difficult to get at them, always provided the killer will not disappear altogether. After all, we don’t know why the professor was murdered and since we are ignorant of the motive, we can’t know what the killer will do afterwards.”
“You’re right,” Qeta assented. “But before reading the files about the jars, it might be useful to know something more on the three suspects. Do you have their files here?”
“Follow me.”
The commissioner led Uriel Qeta into the first room and invited him to sit down in front of a desk with three closed folders lying on it. “Here are the files of the suspects. You can read them whilst I give orders to my men.”
As the commissioner went away, Qeta opened the first folder.
Miguel Menem, Ph.D., 35, geologist. Brilliant scientist in an important university of Bogota. Specialist in Martian stones. Unmarried, no problem with the law.
The second folder was the file of Danielle Tietz, Ph.D., 29, biologist, working as a researcher at the Government Center of Exobiology of Dallas, virologist. Unmarried, no problem with the law.
The third folder was that of Roy Mobuto, Ph.D., 32, astronomer, radio-astronomy specialist at the Arecibo Observatory. Married with a fellow astronomer in Arecibo. No problem with the law.
Uriel Qeta sighed. The other data contained in the folders did not look at all promising for his investigation. Perhaps the computer files about the specimens could reveal something helpful. He was more convinced than ever that the key of the puzzle rested in those six jars numbered 4–7—10–16—28.
When the commissioner came back, the two men looked through the files of the specimens in the jars. But they were common specimens of lunar dust and rocks. Their mineral contents differed depending on the different sites where they had been picked up, but did not suggest anything unusual. As for the teams that had picked up the specimens, they were the usual teams that had operated in the past and among their members no one had a name that could be even remotely linked to one of the three suspects.
“Hell, we’re still at the starting point!” snorted Sukyung. “We have only one hour left before the ferry sails off and the murderer gets safely away with it. It’s infuriating!”
“4–7—10–16—28,” whispered Uriel Qeta, his brow deeply furrowed. “I remain absolutely convinced that these numbers hid the name of the killer.”
“Why don’t we try to replace the numbers with letters?” mused the commissioner. He caught a sheet of paper and a pencil and wrote down the alphabet letters and over them wrote the following numbers 1 for “a”, 2 for “b” and so on. The resulting word was “d g j p”. “Dammit, the alphabets letters are only twenty six. Number 28 has no corresponding letter.”
“And ‘dgjp’ doesn’t mean anything,” said Qeta. “The numbers might match some of the atomic numbers of the Mendeleyev’s table, but I can see without writing them down that there is no sense in it.”
Sukyung had a rabid look now on his face. “I can’t let that killer go free!” he exclaimed. “We must catch the bastard!”
“We don’t understand that message,” mused Uriel Qeta, “but it must be clear enough. Professor Olmedo apparently thought we could understand it easily. Five numbered jars, the last of them lying on it side. As if he wanted to signal a truncation…a full stop.…”
He suddenly brightened. “Of course, why didn’t I understand it earlier? The professor was an astronomer…and the lying jar means that these numbers are not only five, but the first five of a broken sequence!” The planetologist was beaming as he looked at the chief of the Lunar Police.
“I’ve got it! These numbers are part of a sequence that is well known to the astronomers. It is the Bode sequence: 4–7—10–16—28 which goes on with numbers 52—100–196—388. The professor has understood he did not have time enough to place all the needed jars on the table, but had he placed only five of them we wouldn’t have suspected they meant to be a sequence. While, placing one of them on its side he could make us understand it was a broken sequence. Yeah, that’s it, these numbers are just the numbers of the Bode Law. It gives us the distance of the planets from the Sun, counting as 10 the distance of the Earth from the Sun.”
Uriel Qeta jumped animatedly to his feet. “Let’s nab our killer before that ferry leaves!”
Commissioner Sukyung got to his feet, still looking perplexed. “Okay, if you feel so sure. But the Bode Law numbers don’t suggest anything to me, and the word Bode is also meaningless. Who are we arresting? The astronomer?”
The planetologist was already through the door. “Don’t think of it — just run! I’ll tell you everything while we get to the ferry. Ah, how brilliant of Professor Olmedo!”
“Doctor Tietz?”
The beautiful redhead who was about to go through Gate 3 to the ferry berth for the Earth turned, showing a radiant smile. “Yes?”
Commissioner Sukyung’s voice was quiet but firm. “If you’ll be so kind as to follow me into my office.…”
The look on her face changed slightly, showing surprise and a bit of worry; just the right reaction which everybody would show while being stopped by the police just a few minutes before embarking on a space ferry.
“My ferry is about to take off,” she protested politely, with just a trace of nervousness in her voice.
“Please,” said Sukyung, showing her a side corridor. “There still is half an hour before the airlock closes. I’ll make this quick.”
“If you insist.” The tone of the woman sounded annoyed now. As if she was offended.
When she entered the office of the Lunar Police she remained standing, until invited to sit by a sharp gesture from Sukyung.
Uriel Qeta observed the scene intently from the corner where he was seated. Doctor Tietz did not show any trace of fear. She was self-assured, annoyed as much as might be expected from an innocent person, and no more worried than it was logical to be without arousing suspicion for being too sure of herself.