It started as project suggestion for Miss Andrew’s second period math class. It was in an envelope without a return address. The first sentence caught her eye. 

I have a mystery for you.

This was different. A mystery. Her hands began to shake, but she was not afraid. At least that is what she would say. 

People are missing in your area.

Not fitting for her students. Still, it was important that she know what it had to say.

A little girl was missing. 

She was last seen yesterday; only a mile away.

Miss Andrews was in her classroom, with a student, reading the note. 

Outside, in the hall, she could hear boot steps clicking on the tile floor. And then a door opened, and closed, quietly somewhere out there. 

Slowly, someone approached. 

You like numbers don’t you, Patty? 

A hot ball of fire dropped in her stomach. She did, of course. That is why she taught math. 

But why does that matter? she thought. 

Do you remember the story of the missing boy in Akron, Ohio in 2020? And a little while later someone else disappeared in Dunkirk, New York? 

She did. The stories were all over the news back then. On Halloween night the boy left his window open a crack and someone crawled right in and snatched him from where he slept. In Dunkirk, it was Shirley Abbott. She forgot to lock her door and a man wearing a scary, Jack-o’-lantern Halloween mask came right in and carried her out into the night. There was video footage from a street camera of someone crossing the street. He walked right into her house wearing a dark, pullover fleece. A few minutes later he was strolling out the front door with Shirley over his shoulder. She looked asleep, but authorities now believe she was dead. 

And then there was ol’ Tommy Brunson over in Victor, New York. Do you remember him? 

She did. He ran the scrap metal yard over in Glen Castle for a year or two after his father died. 

Poor guy. He had a heart attack when he first saw me. 

That was the strangest one. Tommy was a man of routine. Woke up the same time each day, had his coffee and walked his dog at 6 am. Like clockwork. The neighbors always knew when to expect him. And then one morning he never came by. They called his wife. But he was gone. No note. No signs of struggle, or disturbance. Except for one.

Their dog was dead.

Hanging from their mailbox. 

Someone had wrapped a chain around the dog’s neck and hung him from the wooden beam that supports the metal box. No one saw it happen and there were no cameras to record the grisly act.

Tommy loved that dog more than anything. 

But where was he now? 

No one knew. 

His car was still in the garage. His coffee had not been touched. 

Tommy was gone. And the dog was…

Dead. 

The number of days between my first crime and the second one was 144. And my third crime, in Victor, New York, was 144 miles away from you.

Coincidence? Yeah, I thought so…

At first. 

But then I looked at my second and third crimes. They were 89 days apart. And my fourth crime, in Seneca Falls, New York, was 89 miles away.

My heart began to beat a little faster. Two numbers, 89 and 144, show up in successive crimes. 

And in different ways, Patty thought.

There was a pattern; a certain sequence. But what did it mean? 

I opened my laptop computer and Googled “sequence of numbers 89 144.”  Up came “Fibonacci sequence” highlighted in bright blue on my computer screen. 

This might be our guy, Patty thought.

She turned to look at her student; already working on the problem. 

“Delilah.” 

Delilah looked up from her work. 

“I have more.”

“You do? How many?” Delilah was already on to something. She had the kernel of an idea too.

“Two. So far.”

“Do you know the time and place?” 

Patty wrote down the crime’s time and place on a Post-it note and handed it to Delilah. 

And then she looked back down at this other note. 

After 144, the next number is 233. And my second crime, in Dunkirk, was 233 miles away. 

Coincidence? Yeah. I thought it had to be.

Still, I was intrigued. My crimes seemed to be following this sequence of numbers.  

And in more than one way, she thought.

This got me thinking; because I am always willing to entertain a new idea. What parts of human behavior and human psychology can we foresee using this very strange sequence of numbers? I didn’t know. That is a research project  for someone else with more time than me. But I have a theory. Maybe as the perpetrator of the crime gains experience and becomes accustomed to a life of crime he (or she) is more likely to commit it closer to where they live.

And more often too,Patty thought.

I know that was the case with me.  

As my skills improved, I was able to commit crime closer to home without being caught. I have you to thank for that, Patty. Although you probably will not like how I  plan to say, “Thank you.” When I first started my chances of success seemed to increase the further away HOME was from the scene of the crime. This helped me when I started. As  I got better at getting away, I felt more comfortable committing crime closer to where I live.

Somewhere near me, Patty thought. 

This gradual progression – from faraway to close by – models the Fibonacci sequence nicely.  

Remember, it all stops when you are caught. You must find a way to get away to improve your skills and learn the craft.  

Yes, of course. It is the best way to learn anything – including crime.

That was easy to see.

The criminals that perform their act close to home have already worked their way down the Fibonacci sequence. Their distance from the scene of the crime increases their chances of getting away. So they have time to learn their craft. As their skills improve, they can misbehave closer to where they live without increasing their chances of being caught. 

I took my time and learned the craft. I learned that from you, Patty.

Of course you did. Starting slow and on the sly is the best way to gradually improve at crime. 

But most important is getting away. 

It is the chicken-or-egg problem. You must repeat the behavior to get better at what you do. But you must be good at what you do to get away the first few times.

So you can commit the crime again, Patty thought.

Study the past, Patty. You will see the successful ones always manage to get away. So they are skilled. But to be truly great you must commit the crime many times and still find a way to get away each time.

If not, it will all stop, she thought. 

I have two questions for you. How can you gain experience if you are not skilled? And how do you acquire the necessary skills if you do not commit the crime often? 

There was a way to do both. 

Commit the crimes far away from where you live when you first start. Your chances of not being caught increase the further away you live from the scene of the crime.

It really works. 

Simply use the numbers in the Fibonacci sequence to specify the distance of the crime from where you live. Use the same numbers to mark off the days on the calendar until it is time to break the law again. Set a reminder on your phone if you have to. It is an easy, repeatable process that will work. This doesn’t mean you can’t stray a little, take a side road and change course whenever you want and not be caught. It just means that if you want to model your behavior using a formula that works…

This is the one. 

It is a kind of survivorship bias. We can study the crimes of the successful criminal because they found a way to get away and left a record of their criminal acts. They were not caught when they committed their unsavory act. It is that simple. We know a criminal is a success only in hindsight; after the crime has been committed. The ones that have been caught are done and locked up, and therefore do not have a criminal history that we can examine further (not that we would want to – the fact that they are locked up is a sure sign that they were not very good at crime). By definition, the patterns that we can see are the ones that have worked.

They are the best. 

When time and place is converted to a number the behavior – whether it is legal or a crime – will conform to the Fibonacci sequence .

Each and everytime.

And Patty knew why. As you get better at your task (or, in this case, committing a crime) you are able to take on greater risk without increasing your chances of being caught.

You are a better criminal because you learn a little more each time. And that was true, Patty thought, with any endeavor not just crime. 

You should have an idea where I’ll be next. Go ahead Patty, try to guess.

She heard something outside her door. 

Do you hear footsteps? 

She did. 

Then you know I’ll be there in a minute or two.

Clack, clack. 

Silence. 

Clack, clack, clack. 

Silence. 

Clack. 

Silence. 

You’re next, Patty.  

Slowly, someone made their way to where Patty and Delilah sat. 

2

Once I saw my behavior closely tracking the Fibonacci sequence I wanted to find out why. I was surprised with what I found. 

I have put faith in the natural order of things and the importance of the Fibonacci sequence. 

Would you like to know why?

Sure, Patty thought.

I want to finish and make a mark in this world. Leave a reminder to others that I was here. First, I work out where I need to be. Then I plan the next crime based on its distance from the last one. 

And you commit the crime more often each time, Patty thought.

Do you see a pattern? 

She did. There were two.

The distance from Akron to Binghamton is 377 miles. 

And 377 days ago.

Coincidence? 

Probably not, Patty thought.

I was looking for an easy-to-follow plan, Patty. I thought Dunkirk might be 377 miles away from Binghamton. But I was wrong.

That would not work as well. You may improve, but it would take much longer to get better at crime.

So, I looked closer. The Fibonacci sequence began to form and I could see the benefits that can accrue to you when you gradually improve. It is incremental, but there is a change.  

That is right. The whole is greater than the sum of its parts when you gradually improve: 1+ 1 = 3, not 2.

I do one, learn from that and then do another. Learning this way takes time. But you get better at it as you go – there is less risk. Put Fibonacci’s sequence in reverse order.  Do you notice if you list the distance of each crime from Binghamton it is the same sequence of numbers? The numbers are further apart when you first start, but then get closer together as you get better at crime (or whatever behavior you are trying to improve). That means when I get to you I should be very good at what I do.

Making people disappear, Patty thought. Apparently, that is your specialty.  

It was.

I am a little anxious because I know if I try this you will have to be at a certain place on the right day. And that is out of my control. I still get butterflies in my stomach when I think about it. But I have faith in the natural order of things (as you know). Everything has worked according to plan.

So far, Patty thought.

I checked the calendar on my phone. I’ll be there Tuesday. You should be teaching class in room 214 over at the school on Water Street.

He was right. She would be at the school, but not in that room.

I’ll be somewhere different, Patty thought.

Patiently waiting for you. 

You enjoy this, don’t you? The excitement when you learn something new? And I know you like numbers, Patty. I found you when I typed in “Fibonacci sequence.” Your name came up on the computer screen. 

Patty thought: This is interesting; something the police might want to see. But why are you telling me? 

The classroom door next to hers opened.

Delilah pointed to the wall. “Is someone over there?”

“There shouldn’t be,” Patty said. 

She tried to remain calm. But the paper was beginning to shake in her hand.

3

Have you heard of Leonardo of Pisa? We know him today as Fibonacci. 

She had. He was an Italian mathematician in the 12th century. Famous for a special sequence of numbers. The Fibonacci sequence. 

You know the sequence of numbers, Patty. It is 0,1,1,2,3,5,8 and so on. But I am using it in reverse for my plan.

She knew it well, but didn’t like the idea of him coming to visit just to prove that it worked. The Fibonacci sequence was a series of numbers: 0, 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8… The next number is the sum of the previous two.

It will start at 377 and then decrease in the same way: 233, 144, 89…until I get to zero. The numbers represent how far away the crime is from you. So when I reach zero I should be right there, standing by your door. 

Look up, do you see me now? 

Patty’s eyes darted to her door. The door knob began to turn.

Gradually learning will improve bad behavior too, Patty. I’ve proved that it works. 

That was her fear. The one lingering thought from her work, and the one that kept her awake at night, was the possibility that the Fibonacci sequence showed itself in human behavior as well. 

She thought it could be used to predict human behavior. Or at least behavior that is hard to learn and repeat often.

Learned skills, Patty thought. They are important,

It was relevant to behavior that is repeated frequently were success means the behavior might happen again and failure means the behavior will probably have to stop. 

It was a way to gradually improve at anything, not just crime.

It had applications, she believed, in psychology and the humanities in finding patterns and predicting behavior. It was a way, she thought, to gradually improve at whatever you want to do. 

I read your paper on incremental improvement. Nice piece of work. The part about the Fibonacci sequence raised the hair on the back of my neck. It inspired me Patty and is the reason I want to meet. You might say that I have been a student too using remote learning. But I am probably not as remote, or distant, as you would like me to be. Ha!   

Patty heard a chair skidding across the floor next door.

The distance of the kidnapping from you is a number in the sequence. Each time I get a little better and a little closer…

To me, Patty thought.

Another door opened, and closed, out in the hall. 

Akron was 377 miles away from you. Dunkirk was 233 miles away. And my third crime, in Victor, was 144 miles away. 

Do you see a pattern?

I do, she thought. And I see the number of days between your crimes is a Fibonacci number too. 

I did not plan that. It just happened that way.

Something else did too.

You learned to commit crime, Patty thought.

And got a little better each time. 

4

I didn’t know that my behavior corresponded to numbers in the Fibonacci sequence until I saw the distance between Akron, Dunkirk, Victor and HOME.

Honest. 

After that I checked the distance of each place using Google Maps. I was methodical. First Seneca Falls. Then Jenney Point near Skaneateles Lake. Then Virgil. Each time I was getting a little better.  

And closer to me, Patty thought. 

I was like a blood hound on the trail. Once I got a taste for this I could not stop. I had to complete the Fibonacci sequence. It’s the reason I have been successful at crime. I still find it hard to believe. The elegance of it. It was one more piece of evidence for me that there is an order in the universe.

But I wanted to find someone that would appreciate what I found. 

I admit, Patty. I wanted some credit.   

I opened my laptop and Googled “Fibonacci sequence” and “New York University.” There you were. Patricia Andrews, PhD candidate. It was a Mathematical Colloquium you attended back in 2016. The title of your talk was –  I can’t quite remember, something about nature’s secrets. 

It was Nature’s Secret Code: the Fibonacci Sequence. 

I wrote your name down in my notebook and took a few notes. I wanted you to know how well it worked. I still find it hard to believe. Perhaps it is something in our nature and state of mind. But when I saw you listed as a school teacher in Binghamton…well, the coincidence was too intoxicating for me to ignore. 

I wanted to meet. And then I saw that you had a student.

“I do,” she whispered. “I have many.” 

That liked math. 

Patty looked at Delilah.

The lights flickered on and off in the hallway. The rain picked up outside. It was getting dark, like night.

“Is anyone there,” Patty called out into the hallway. She craned her neck out the classroom door. 

There was no one that she could see. So, she went back into the classroom to finish reading the note. 

5

I already had my fourth city picked out so I knew where I wanted to be.  

Seneca Falls, New York. 

It was 89 miles away. 

I set a reminder on my phone for March 6. 

That was 89 days ago, Patty thought. A Fibonacci number too.

On January 10th George Petry met me. I walked right up on his porch and took him out of his rocking chair while he was sipping his ice tea.

Another one, Patty thought. She picked up her pen and quickly wrote: 

377, 233, 144, 89…

The next one was near Skaneateles Lake on the Booth Road…about 55 miles away. 

“When was the little girl abducted at Jenney Point, Delilah?”

“The place near Skaneateles Lake?”

“Yes.”  

“February 13th.”

Fifty-five days ago. 

“That is what I thought,” Patty said.  She turned to a new page and wrote: 

377, 233, 144, 89, 55…

I confess, Patty. I have purposely planned ahead since the Skaneateles Lake crime. It’s because I could see the great scope, and reach, when you make an effort to gradually improve. It is additive, but the benefits start to pileup. And you were right. There is power when you follow a path. My obsessive compulsiveness requires that I complete the sequence and set it to rest. 

But something bothers me. How will it end? 

The last two numbers in this sequence are zero and one. That means the abductions will occur on the same day, in the same place. Somewhere near you.  

There were footsteps out in the hall. 

Two people.

In the same place.

Near me, Patty thought.

Who will they be? 

You’re smart. I think you know. 

Patty stopped reading to look up. 

“Delilah, did you hear someone in the hall?” 

“No, why did you?”  

6

I was gaining confidence, Patty. And getting better. Next was Virgil, New York where I visited six-month-old Tyler Woods. I just walked right in and took him out of his high chair while he was eating his carrot puree. I gave him his bottle and blanket and carried him out the back door. 

That was at the end of the Timmerman Road. About 34 miles away from you.

And 36 days ago.

Close enough, Patty thought.

She looked at Delilah while tapping her finger on the note. She was smiling. It was like she found the next word in a crossword puzzle. “I have the next one,” she said.  

377, 233, 144, 89, 55, 34…

You appreciate the creativity of a new idea don’t you Patty? The thrill when you learn something new? 

She heard a voice out in the hall. 

“Patty, it’s me.” And then: “Is Delilah there too?”

“Who is that, Miss Andrews?” Delilah asked.  

Patty knew, but she wanted to read. 

My next stop was Windsor High School. Home of the Black Knights.  

Patty remembered that one. Ricky Underwood. A recent high school grad in Windsor, New York. He walked out of the school building during the graduation ceremony’s recessional. The entire class walked back to the football field, but he never came back to the gym for the class picture.  No one knows what happened, but someone saw a man hiding behind a tree during the graduation ceremony’s closing remarks. 

The high school was a 21 mile drive down I-86. 

And graduation day was three weeks ago or 21 days. 

377, 233, 144, 89, 55, 34, 21…

The distance of the crime will be a Fibonacci number, Patty thought. That was easy to see.

Delilah saw this too. On top of the page she wrote in her neat, loopy script:

How-to Gradually Improve

All of the disappearances were considered “suspicious.” The police thought foul play was to blame for each one.

Delilah traced the names of the towns on a map with her pen. And then carefully wrote down the dates. 

The trace was an arrow pointing to her hometown; close to the school.

She felt a tinge of fear. The abductions were getting closer and closer to where she sat, in her homeroom class on Water Street.  

Patty noticed this too. 

“Delilah what did you find? It’s a sequence of numbers isn’t it?”

Delilah sat at her desk. Her hair dropped over her eyes. She did not look up from her work. Her small hand pressing against her forehead. 

“Delilah?” Patty turned to face Delilah.

She was a little concerned with this quiet, 11-year-old girl. She was new to the school, but had not acclimated the way most students do. Delilah was interested in mundane, everyday things and seeing “the patterns” when she converted times, distances and outcomes (pass/fail) into numbers. If she could express a thing in numbers she could understand it on an entirely new level. And then improve upon it. 

It was a game for her that was fun. 

On her first day of school at the Wagner Elementary School she noticed how the the unique, geometric layout of the school created a bottleneck near the cafeteria right after the first lunch period. It was the same time the 5th and 6th graders were making their way back from gym class.

During recess, on her second day, she figured out the problem. Outside she could see the school door exits and the entrance to the gymnasium. She wrote down the distances and then started working on the math. The time spent traveling between classes could be shortened by 15 minutes if gym class was moved from 10 am to 2 in the afternoon and social studies was held in the same classroom as science on Thursday and Friday. 

The next day she had a new schedule for the elementary school that saved the teachers 25 minutes each day traveling between classrooms. That was 75 hours each year (or about three weeks of teaching for each one).

Delilah was moved into Miss Andrews’ Advanced Math class the next day.  

7

Patty used the Fibonacci sequence to help her students gradually improve. Her method: “Gradual Learning.” It was her stock-in-trade. The problems get harder. They are given to the students more frequently. This helped Delilah solve real-world problems using math. 

In the fall, Delilah was scheduling routes for the City of Binghamton’s municipality vehicles – waste disposal, fire and police. She spent most of her time outside of class optimizing the time spent, services rendered and miles traveled for each city employee that drove a vehicle. 

On New Year’s Day, the day after little Elijah Newton was taken from his home – “his bedroom window was open a crack, but he was too little to crawl,” his mother said – the state’s Criminal Investigations Unit contacted Delilah.

Elijah lived 13 miles away in Castle Creek. And that is the next number in the sequence after 21.

That was two weeks ago. Or 14 days. And the number 14, as you know, comes right after 13.

377, 233, 144, 89, 55, 34, 21, 13… 

Assigned to the case was Detective Pete Jenkins. He said he was looking for “a pattern in all the mischief.” 

The detective raised his hand to about chest level. “She was about this high and couldn’t have been any older than 10. The department had just started this new program. They were using something called analytics. Using statistics to find the bad guys.” He placed his hand on his chest and smiled. “It was all new to me.”

“I’m glad we found her because the cases were a tough nut to crack working alone.” He pointed to the empty chair at the desk next to his. “I’ve been on my own since Wilbur disappeared last week. He was quite a guy, ol’ Will-Bee.”  

Wilbur was last seen in Brackney, Pennsylvania. He was taking his dog for their morning walk. His dog came back in the afternoon and laid down on the back porch like always. But no one ever saw Will-Bee again.

That was last Friday, eight days ago. 

And Brackney PA was just over the border, eight miles away.

“I miss him,” Pete said. “I miss him a whole lot.” 

I’m sure you do, Patty thought. His friends and family miss him too.

She picked up her pen and wrote:

377, 233, 144, 89, 55, 34, 21, 13, 8…

Amy Fisher was kidnapped last Saturday night. She was last seen talking to a man in the checkout aisle at Angler’s Supermarket. 

Saturday was five days ago. And the supermarket was a five mile drive from the school (which was, coincidently or not, right where Patty and Delilah sat). 

377, 233, 144, 89, 55, 34, 21, 13, 8, 5…

“Miss Andrews,” Delilah said, “since the sequence stops at zero does that mean he will be caught when he sees me.”

“It does,” Patty said. “Or he will be killed. But the crime spree will stop. That is for sure.”

Amish Patel was next on his list. He disappeared three days ago in Johnson City. Someone saw him riding his electric bike through St. Patrick’s cemetery near Riverside Drive. But he never came back out the main gate. 

And that was the only way out.  

That was three miles away. And three is the next number after five.

I am not surprised, Patty thought.

377, 233, 144, 89, 55, 34, 21, 13, 8, 5, 3…

8

Now, Delilah could predict what would happen next. She knew when and where the next crimes would be.

This was her insight. Distance wasn’t the only part of the crime tracking the Fibonacci sequence. The frequency, when it happens, was too.

Once she saw it work, Delilah could look ahead and make a prediction using the Fibonacci sequence. It was like she could peep into the future using a series a numbers and the history of the crime. 

Delilah could not catch every criminal. But she could help catch the best ones, the crème de la crème,  before their crime sprees really took off.  The chosen few that succeed will model their behavior after the Fibonacci sequence. 

Always. 

“Habits that start slow and on the sly are the ones you have to watch,” she said. 

That was true. As the kidnapper becomes more capable they can commit the crime more often and closer to where they live without increasing their chances of being caught. 

The frequency of the crimes, and the distance from where the perpetrator lives, are always changing. But when you look close, they tell a story.

A tale unfolds. 

Delilah didn’t need a crystal ball. She used a series of numbers to see ahead and tell the future. They start 0, 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8… 

The next number is the sum of the previous two. 

In reverse the numbers gradually approach zero: 8, 5, 3, 2, 1, 1, 0. 

Patty saw this too. That is when it will end, she thought. At zero, when he sees me. 

This time the locations of the abductions were following the Fibonacci sequence in reverse order so when they reach zero the perpetrator will be HOME in Binghamton, New York. 

That’s where Delilah lived, and Patty taught math.

9

Patty looked at the neat, carefully laid out table listing the town names where each abduction occurred. Beside each entry was the date.

On the right-side were Delilah’s calculations.  

She could see that the “pattern” Delilah had gleaned from the crime history was the Fibonacci sequence. It was right there staring back at her. And it matched the crimes that she read about in that note. This frightened Patty, but it turned her on a little too. It was the rush of excitement you feel when you have a new idea or discover something new.  

In this series of numbers the next number is the sum of the previous two. That was true. It starts 0,1,2 and then 3 (1+2), 5 (2+3), 8 (3+5) and so on. It describes many phenomena in our natural world – from the number of petals on a rose to the spiral pattern you see on a pinecone – but as far as she knew it had never been used to predict human behavior. 

Delilah could see that the distance between each abduction was a Fibonacci number. There was no question about that.

But what did it mean?

Patty opened her notebook and turned to the first page. “Here are the earlier crimes,” she said. 

Delilah leaned over to look. She wanted to compare notes.

The first one was Nate Dunne; who last seen in Akron, Ohio. 

That was 377 miles away. 

377…

And then the kidnapper went east. He crossed the state line into Ripley, New York following Route 90 into Dunkirk. 

That’s where Shirley Abbott lived – 233 miles away.  

377, 233…

After that Tommy Brunson disappeared, and his dog was found dead, in Victor, New York.

Victor is 97 miles away as the crow flies. But it is 144 miles along Route 41 when you have to drive. 

377, 233, 144…

They agree with the later crimes, she thought.

Notice that 144 + 233 = 377. The next number is the sum of the previous two.  

That is always the rule.

The distance of each abduction from Binghamton will be a Fibonacci number. Or at least close. And when the sequence reaches zero? That’s when we will meet and I say, “Checkmate.” 

If the abductions continue this way the next one should be 89 miles away.

Was it Cooperstown? Perhaps Syracuse? 

Close. 

On January 10th George Petry went missing in Seneca Falls, New York. His wife said he was out on the porch sitting in his rocking chair. “I thought he was taking a nap,” she said. “But when I went out to check on him he was gone and there were flies crawling around in his ice tea.” 

Seneca Falls, New York was 89 miles away.

377, 233, 144, 89…

“Ok, Delilah you’ve connected this list of missing persons to the Fibonacci sequence. Nice job. Each crime corresponds to a number in the sequence in terms of time and place.” 

She pointed to the note. “And these crimes correspond to numbers earlier in the sequence. Now we have to figure out where and when this will end,” she said. 

Patty picked up her pen and looked at the computer screen. “Where will the next one be?”

“Somewhere 55 miles away,” she said. 

Miss Andrews nodded approvingly. “Where should we look?”

Delilah knew the most successful criminals – those that succeed and have a good thing going – will start their life of crime further out in the sequence. This gives them the necessary distance to avoid detection while they have extra time to learn their trade. That is the secret, really. Learn your trade with a low probability of being caught. You want to have a reasonable chance of getting away. It is a crucial time in the life of a criminal; when he or she lays the groundwork for their future success. Delilah knew that to get ahead, and go places, you must start slow and be careful.

But to win, it needs to be a habit.

Patty suspected the crimes followed a sequence of numbers found all around us in the natural world. But now they were being recognized as patterns in the fields of human behavior and psychology too. 

On her computer, Delilah had a tool that allowed her to draw a radius around a point on a map. 

This helped her find the next place. 

She clicked on “Binghamton” and typed “55” in the text box labeled radius.

A bright red circle appeared around the greater Binghamton area shaded in light, pantone green.

“It would be somewhere near here,” she said pointing at the computer screen. 

“Good,” Miss Andrews said. “So you have Elmira. Or Ithaca.” She moved her finger across the screen. “Or Oneonta over here, just off Interstate 88. What did you find?”  

Delilah pointed to a new place on the map.

“Jenney Point near Skaneateles Lake,” she said. “Someone took a little girl on the Booth road.”

Miss Andrews leaned in for a closer look.

“That was 52 miles away. What was the day?” 

“June 24th,” Delilah said.

That was 55 days ago.

“It’s close,” Patty said and turned to a new page in her notes.  “You might be on to something.”

She clicked her ballpoint pen twice; retracting and extending the tip. And then wrote:

377, 233, 144, 89, 55…

Since we are concerned with criminals that are successful – that is, they get away with their crime and are able to commit more (by definition, a criminal that is not successful will be caught and is already locked up) – we can convert the time and place of the crime into a number. Multiple numbers form a sequence that, each time, is the Fibonacci sequence.

It is an interesting fact, when you first see it. 

For those that get out of line, but still manage to get away, the time and place of their crimes will follow the Fibonacci sequence each time. That is what Delilah discovered. 

It was a way to predict the future. A way to fortune tell.

10

We can learn from the criminals that are good at what they do. This was her insight. We study those that succeed. Since there is a body of work, we can convert the time and place of the crime into a number. More than one number forms a sequence. 

And what you have, in the end, is the Fibonacci sequence. 

This was Delilah’s most important find. If you improve at anything and write down how often you practice the behavior, in terms of a number, a pattern will form. It will be the Fibonacci sequence looking back at you. 

Delilah said: “The sequence works for the criminals that plan and are good at what they do. The ones that don’t follow the sequence are not successful and, therefore, are not a concern.

“Since they were caught, they have already been locked up,” she said. 

This was true.

11

Hannah Woods was next. She disappeared right here in Binghamton the night before last. 

Two days ago. 

She went to sleep, like always, in her bed. The next morning her bedroom door was locked. Her mother opened it with a key and saw an empty bed. The only thing out of place was the window; which someone left open a crack. 

The distance of the crime from Binghamton and the number of days since that night was the same number.

Two.

377, 233, 144, 89, 55, 34, 21, 13, 8, 5, 3, 2…

Ameesha Patel was just declared a missing person. She was last seen yesterday walking a trail along the Chenango River near Prospect Street. 

That was one mile away.

377, 233, 144, 89, 55, 34, 21, 13, 8, 5, 3, 2, 1…

12

I won’t have as many options when the sequence gets to one. Not sure where I’ll be. Somewhere in Binghamton. Southside Park on Conkline Avenue looks about right.  

I want to finish this and well…I’ll just admit it, my ego craves the attention. I want someone to say: “That was clever. You used the Fibonacci sequence to gradually improve.” I know you will value it in an ironic kind of way even though you will probably not like what happens to you. 

I’ll stop teasing, Patty. I am okay having you read this because I know how it ends. 

You do? Patty thought. Are you sure?

You are going to take part in the study. I want my last two abductions to be the student assigned to solve the problem.

That is Delilah, Patty thought.

And you.

Patty looked over at Delilah. 

“We’re next,” she said.  

13

Now she knew. In the sequence she was zero and Delilah was one. 

There was a knock on the door.

I don’t know if my behavior would have continued to track this particular sequence of numbers if I had not worked out beforehand where I needed to be and developed a plan. But I do know that I would  have been caught by now and locked up if I didn’t. 

That is for sure. 

You’re reading this because I followed a long-term plan that worked. 

It is that simple.

Yes, that was true.

But it will stop at zero when you see me, Patty thought.

Where do you think I’ll be next Patty? You know where I’ve been. Can you guess? I’ll give you a hint. The distance from you…

And the number of days since the last crime.

…will be a Fibonacci number too. 

Look up. Do you see me? 

Patty’s eyes darted to her door. The door knob began to turn.

Slowly, the classroom door creaked open.

14

There was a man standing by the door with a predatory look.

“Hi, Patty it’s me.” His voice was soft, but confident. 

He pointed to the letter in her hand. “Were you able to finish reading my note?” 

“Yes, I just did,” she said. 

“Then you know how this will end?” 

“Yes. I do. Someone here is not going to make it home.” 

His smile faltered. “Someone?” 

Patty dropped the letter to her side. She was holding a small, 9 mm pistol in her hand.  

“What are you going to do?” he asked. “Shoot me?”

“If I have to. Why do you assume that you get away at the end? The Fibonacci sequence tells us that the crimes stop a zero. That means you stop and are probably caught.”

Patty looked him in the eyes and smiled.

“The Fibonacci sequence works until you get to the end,” she said.

Checkmate.

THE END

Checkmate.