how he spoke.
For men like these, ideas seem greater, more real, more meaningful, more desirable, than all the treasures which have made men dream since the beginning of time. It is a moving thing.
I send a great many kisses to everyone,
Your loving
Vanessa
Cambridge, Tuesday, March 20th, 1888
Dear Dora,
The delight at receiving, finally, a long letter from you almost outweighed my feelings at your sad news. So Mr Edwards is leaving for India. No wonder after he learnt it, he hesitated for so long to come and see you. It must have been difficult for him to face the necessity of giving you news that he knew must grieve you. And thus, he himself is reluctant to go, and disappointed in himself for not having succeeded more brilliantly in his studies, thereby leaving only this option open to himself. Oh, Dora … many ladies marry civil servants and join them in India. It is quite frequent, so you must not think that everything is necessarily over. But I understand that you could not even think of such a thing now, when you still know him so little. You would have needed a long courtship, as anyone would, and now you will have only letters. Surelyyou will soon be one of the most written-to creatures in the country! And you will have his leaves to look forward to. I dearly hope that you will find that knowing what happened, however sad, is far better than not knowing, and your taste for life will return with the springtime.
I was very much hoping, I must confess, to have some exciting news to be able to continue my mathematical tale; I awaited the results of Mr Morrison’s visit to the police with great interest. But alas, Emily has told me that he returned empty-handed, as all of Mr Akers’ personal effects have already been transferred to his closest kin, who is a woman living somewhere on the Continent. The police showed Mr Morrison a list, and it seems that not only was there a paper in his pockets, but even a great many bits of paper, all covered with mathematical scribbling, as well as the usual assortment of keys, coins, diary and so on. At any rate, it is all gone now.
Emily also showed me a newspaper clipping from a few days ago, which her uncle gave her; I had not seen it.
DEATH OF MATHEMATICIAN REMAINS MYSTERIOUS
The murder of Dr Geoffrey Akers, Fellow of St John’s College in Pure Mathematics, remains unexplained. The police have but a single, seemingly inexplicable clue. Upon asking themselves whether the murderer may not have been a thief, they examined his rooms completely to see if anything had been taken. The investigation apparently proved inconclusive. The room showed signs of having been thoroughly searched; it was very disarranged, andthe drawers were standing open, but nothing of value had disappeared. ‘’E probably made the mess himself, ’e did,’ said Mrs Wiggins, the bedder. ‘It could ’ardly be messier than it already was. Nought but dirty papers and cigar ends. Mr Akers had nothing of value in his rooms anyway, unless they wanted to steal his old clothes.’ It is conceivable that the murder could have been perpetrated by a disappointed thief, who had been hoping for better.
So, so! This may explain the absence of any manuscript solving the n-body problem. As for the famous bit of paper, either it has been sent off to his next of kin, or else he may have simply thrown it away … or else … the gruesome thought cannot be avoided … perhaps the very selfsame person who struck the dreadful blow then slipped his hand slyly into the dead man’s pocket, searching there …
Oh, Dora, what am I saying? It sounds as though – instead of a mere thief – the murderer could be a
mathematician
, killing in order to
steal the idea
? That very idea which Mr Morrison spoke of as being
more valuable than money or belongings
?
What a terrible train of thought! And yet, the more I consider it, the more I feel that it must be so. He was killed in his rooms at the university. Why should a