Chapter 53: The Circle of Continuity

Jason stood with his arms crossed, staring at the two pieces of paper spread out on the table, frustration written all over his face. "Both of these papers—one on the wall and the one you found earlier today—have the killer's symbols. It's clear: he's gearing up to strike again.

"The circle of continuity here..." he pointed to a symbol on the paper, "means he's planning to repeat his actions soon. And then there's the Rubaiyat stuff. The killer’s using these quatrains, these ancient verses, like some kind of coded message."

Kate’s eyes flicked between the papers, her brow furrowed. She let out a frustrated breath, trying to make sense of the cryptic lines. "I see it. The quatrain on the wall, the one right here—" she tapped the paper where the quatrain was written, "—it’s like he's telling us he's about to strike again. We need to figure out what these verses are trying to tell us. They're not just poetry; they're his way of communicating."

Jason didn’t look convinced. His gaze shifted from the symbols to the quatrains, clearly struggling with the lack of clarity. "I get what you’re saying, but what the hell’s the point of all this?

Why The Rubaiyat? I mean, it’s just an old book of poems, right? What’s so special about it that he’s using it as a medium?"

Kate met his gaze, her voice steady but edged with urgency. "It’s not about the book—it’s about the meaning behind the words. The killer’s using the verses to tell us his next move. We just have to decode it." She pulled her phone out and snapped a quick picture of the quatrains. "I’m sending this to Aussie now. He’ll have an answer for us. We don’t have time to waste."

She tapped the screen and hit send, dialing Aussie’s number immediately after.

After a few rings, Aussie’s groggy voice came through the speaker. "Hello, Kate... it’s, like, 2 AM. Can we—"

"Aussie," Kate cut him off, her tone sharp but businesslike, "I just sent you a picture of two quatrains from The Rubaiyat. I need you to translate them into English and get back to me in the next ten minutes. No later."

Aussie groaned on the other end. "Kate, come on, really? It’s the middle of the night. Can’t this wait until morning?"

Kate’s voice didn’t waver. "Aussie, you have ten minutes. If I don’t hear back from you by then, I’ll come over there. And you know I will."

Aussie mumbled something unintelligible, clearly annoyed, but he finally said, "Alright, alright... give me a second."

The line went silent as Kate waited, glancing at Jason and Rodrick. They both stared at her, a mixture of impatience and anxiety on their faces. Jason rubbed his temples, clearly struggling to maintain his patience. "I don’t get it, Kate. How is this supposed to help us? The killer’s just messing with us, right?"

Rodrick was quieter, his eyes scanning the quatrains again, looking for anything he might’ve missed. "No, Jason. There’s something here. We just have to find it."

Nine minutes later, Kate’s phone buzzed, the screen lighting up with a message from Aussie. She tapped it open, her eyes scanning the words. She let out a breath of relief.

The first message contained the English translation of the quatrains, exactly what she had hoped for. But before she could process it, another message followed immediately.

The second message: “Now, I’m going back to sleep. Don’t you dare bother me.”

Kate smirked, shaking her head. _Typical Aussie_, she thought. She was about to put her phone down when another message popped up. Her heart skipped a beat as she opened it.

“The first quatrain is a mix of two separate ones… the first two lines are from one, and the last two are from another.”

Kate’s eyes widened as she absorbed the new piece of information. She quickly scribbled down the English translation of the quatrains on a piece of paper, her mind racing. She could feel the urgency building. "Wait, hold on. The quatrain’s not just one verse—it’s a combination of two different quatrains, mixed together."

Rodrick and Jason exchanged a look. Rodrick stepped forward, leaning over her shoulder to examine the translation. "So, the killer's not just leaving us one clue... he’s stacking them, making us work for it. We’ve got to figure out how those two separate quatrains fit together."

Jason’s frustration was still simmering, but there was a spark of something else in his eyes now. "Great, so we’re piecing together a puzzle. Can’t wait to see where this goes."

Kate’s mind was already a few steps ahead, her focus laser-sharp. "This changes everything. We’re not just looking for a hidden meaning within the verses. We’ve got to look at how these two quatrains fit together. Maybe they’re giving us a name, a place—something we can use."

Jason crossed his arms, his tone now laced with urgency. "Alright, then. What’s the next step? Let’s break this down before we lose the trail."

Rodrick nodded, his voice low but determined. "We need to go over these quatrains again, from every angle. There’s a pattern here—if we can crack it, we’ll be one step ahead of the killer."

Kate handed the paper with the translations to Jason and Rodrick, her mind racing ahead. "We’ll figure it out. But we don’t have much time."

Jason glanced at the paper, then back at Kate. He clenched his jaw, the weight of the case pressing down on him. "Yeah. Let’s get to work."

The Rubaiyat quatrains read:

While the Rose blows along the River Brink, 

With old Khayyam the Ruby Vintage drink 

But still the Vine her ancient Ruby yields,

And still a Garden by the Water blows.

With them the Seed of Wisdom did I sow, 

And with my own hand labour’d it to grow: 

And this was all the Harvest that I reap'd — 

"I came like Water, and like Wind I go."

Jason’s voice was tight with frustration as he read the quatrains aloud, each word dripping with impatience. “What is this supposed to mean? Who talks like this? Why is this even relevant?”

Rodrick leaned forward, his gaze dark and focused. “It’s no coincidence. The killer is using the Rubaiyat to communicate. There’s got to be something we’re missing.”

Jason let out a harsh laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “I don’t buy it. Why would a murderer bother with some dusty, old poetry? There’s nothing here—just riddles.”

But Kate barely heard him. She was lost in the verses, her eyes scanning over each line, every obscure phrase, searching desperately for a pattern. Her fingers trembled slightly as she traced the words, her mind racing to decode their hidden meaning. What are you trying to say? she thought, silently pleading with the killer.

Then, like a bolt of lightning, it hit her.

Her eyes widened, and she jerked back from the book, her voice a strained whisper that cut through the tense silence. “He’s… he’s going to kill a girl.”

The words seemed to echo in the room, each syllable charged with dread.

Jason’s eyes snapped up, his face pale. “What? How—how do you know that?”

“It’s here,” Kate insisted, her voice shaking. “He’s taunting us, leading us along, but he’s also leaving clues. He’s telling us what he’s going to do… if we don’t stop him.”

Rodrick leaned closer, his face grim. “Then we don’t have time to waste.”

They all shared a glance, the unspoken fear settling over them: somewhere out there, the clock was ticking.