Missing Wit

1: Interview Begins

  Eric was walking along the street. He loved walking in this weather. It was June and it was around 25°C. There wasn't much wind blowing. In short, it was ideal for walking. For Eric, the street he was on was the most beautiful of the city. The houses here had won the war against the time of by beating the centennial. The Svratka River was also visible from here. Eric used to walk from here often, and he never omitted to look at the old houses here when he was there. Even if he wanted to buy a house here, he couldn't afford it.

  Eric turned left. A dead end he had entered. The houses in this community were also similar to the street ones Eric admired before. However, there was a house here that hindered his admiration. Although all other houses are made of red brick, this house was white-stained cement. It gave a modern look from the outside; its walls were white, covered with semi-translucent glass, but these did not show inside. The white house was built on a platform that stood higher than the others, and on this platform was a garden in front of the house. Eric, wasn't the type that would go into this house while there were others, but he had to, just for business. As he approached the house, he realized that house was surrounded by cameras. Eric stopped in front of the house, lit a cigarette. He should have quit smoking; as the doctor advised, but Eric was still smoking regardless,coughing meanwhile. After lighting his cigarette, he took the tablet computer he had hidden in his plateau out and began to review the questions he would ask. A few questions that come to mind was added to the list saved on the tablet. Then, he put the cigarette he was smoking out halfway through. Now it's time to get into the house, even if he wasn't willing to.

Eric's looked at the stairs of the house and glanced at it. After taking a deep breath, he cleared his throat and started climbing the stairs. He stood near the white, steel door at the end of the stairs,and rang the bell the right of the door. He was listening inside. Inside the house was quiet; like nobody was at home. Eric turned his back on the door. Just as he was about to light another cigarette, he heard the door had been opened.

It was a slender woman who opened the door; a woman in her forties, long hair, merciful face. Eric liked her very much, especially her sweet face.

"Ahoj," greeted the woman Eric. The woman was clinging to her door,hiding her body behind the door, with only her face visible from the other end .

"Prosím Vstupte," the woman said. Eric entered the house,after greeting the woman with his head.

Eric came to the living room of the house, passing through a wide corridor. There was no one in the room. Though, Eric was expecting to find the person who he would make the interview. He was an impatient journalist, immediately asking questions and making news. The woman who opened the door closed the door first, then coming near Eric, gestured Eric to sit next in the armchair she had shown him. Then, without saying a word, she headed towards the kitchen.

Eric began to examine the living room on the seat pointed to him. The armchair he was sitting on was dark gray and very comfortable. On his right, he saw a glass pane he had seen earlier from outside. Looking at the glass, he realized the glass showed outside. Then, he looked at the ground. The floors were covered with black and white colored marbles. Opposite him was a large screen embedded to the wall. This screen was probably a television. On the right, on the wall was a painting that covered the entire wall. This painting was a portrait; a portrait of a short-haired person with round-framed glasses. Eric speculated some ideas about who this man was. Was he a relative of the man who he would interview?Or a man he was inspired from Meanwhile,Eric was still looking at the portrait.

"Gödel," said a voice from behind. As Eric continued to sit on the armchair, he turned around and encountered an old man. The man continued:

"I don't know if what he did contributed to the math, but if you ask me, he made it a lot more enjoyable."

"Why do you have a portrait in your living room?" asked Eric.

"He is from here," the man replied. "I mean, when it was Brünn. I also think that the fact that it makes math so much enjoyable is a good enough reason to have it in my living room. What would you say to that?"

"I understand," Eric replied, although he didn't. He did never go well with math. He waited for the man to continue his speech, but the man did not speak.

"Is that all?" asked Eric.

The man nodded his head yes.

"It's like you're going to say something else. (pausing) It feels like you haven't expressed it properly."

"Yes," the man said, nodding his head in agreement. "Perhaps it will never be complete," he added, pointing again at the man in the portrait.

"So be it." Eric squinted his left eye a little and hesitated for a while. Then,"Your best friend's son killed his sister and committed suicide yesterday. These two people were the heads of Europe's largest robotics company. Now, can you tell me what "exactly" is?" asked Eric the journalist.

The man came to Eric. After tapping the journalist's shoulder, he said, "Not his sister. Please, remember. He won the court."

Eric was getting even more impatient. The man was constantly changing the subject. "Well, tell the story as much as you can, please, Mr...." Eric said after clenching his fist, with his hand hidden behind the seat.

"Call me Paul, please. When was the last time we met, sir?" said the man.

"On the case. Five days ago," Eric replied.

"And how much of the story do you know?" said the man. Then he sat down in a chair in front of the window, to Erik's right.

"Can we start over?" asked Eric. Getting answers to his questions calmed the curious journalist.

"Alright. Let's start by getting to know the characters of the story, shall we?"