...Of Events

I gave the file another once-over. I hadn't the faintest idea what to make of it. Six people killed, all apparently linked, but only the final murder had ever been solved. Seven years later, still nobody had cracked it. McGregor, my old friend, had made it his mission. He'd just passed away. I was consumed with solving it as a tribute of sorts. I was so engrossed that I didn't hear Neuman come into the unit. He gave my shoulder a shake.

"You don't have to fuss with that thing," he began. "It's not like it's your inheritance."

"I don't get it," I shot back, ignoring his reasoning. "How do we know that this guy- uhh- Stevenson- didn't kill them all?"

"The forensics. Deaths only a short time from one another, and nothing physical linking him to the others."

Neumann gave up on me and left. I looked into the histories. Each victim was educated in a field I'd struggle to define. Stevenson was a geneticist. Visions of Silence Of The Lambs kept me from visiting him. I'd only go if I got nowhere, and spent a few weeks there.

I sat alone late into the night. McGregor's ghost swam around my mind, and told me I'd solve the case if I just stopped thinking. This was always his problem: he could never switch his brain to autopilot.

I peered through the dossiers. Why would a geneticist kill a particle physicist? Hold on- what did I know about particle physics? Alarm bells rang in my head. I called Neumann. He answered sleepily.

"I've got it," I said, excitedly.

"Got what? Do you have any idea what time it is?"

"The case. It's a stunt. Each killed the last. What we've been looking at all this time is a chain reaction."

Word count: 300