Page 75 of Child's Play

‘It’s a bloody mess, Penn. A right bloody mess.’

‘Yes, guv, it is and to move this on any further there’s only one person I can go and see, and you’re not going to like it one little bit.’

Fifty-Three

Kim strode back into the bungalow and met Veronica head-on in the hallway.

Her set expression hardened. ‘Inspector, this is becoming tiresome and I really have too much work to do.’

Kim took out her warrant card and held it aloft.

‘Police,’ she shouted loudly. ‘Coffee break, everyone. Now.’

The two operatives close by looked around questioningly.

‘Out,’ Kim shouted, and the room emptied.

For the first time Kim saw uncertainty in the woman’s features.

‘Why didn’t you tell us the truth about Belinda? That she was a child prodigy herself? That she competed in one of the first ever Brainbox competitions?’

Veronica took a step back and placed a hand on the newly cleared sideboard.

‘I’m sorry but I’m not sure how that information would help you.’

‘Don’t act stupid, Miss Evans, when we both know you’re not. You knew she was going to this event and chose not to tell us, and now we find out just how close her connection to the event is. Belinda was a child genius, wasn’t she?’

Veronica nodded as though not trusting herself to utter one syllable on the subject.

‘You didn’t want her to go?’

She shook her head.

‘For goodness’ sake, speak. We know your secret but why you’ve guarded it so closely I’ll never understand.’

‘She went every year she could manage, to remind herself, to keep the memory alive of being there with our parents. She also got a kick out of studying the kids, their behaviour, attitude, even believed she could project how they were going to turn out. She would talk with them, you see, question them. Try to understand them.’

‘Why?’ Kim asked, simply.

‘So she could understand herself.’

‘I don’t get it,’ Bryant said, ‘She was educated, had a good job, was well presented, well adjusted…’

‘You call this place well adjusted?’ Veronica asked, waving her arms around at the mess. ‘You think this is normal? When they died Belinda kept every possession our parents owned and surrounded herself with them. Every item had a memory for her. She wanted to recapture it all.’

Kim had been watching the woman as she spoke.

‘What was it like having a genius sister?’

Veronica turned hard eyes upon her. ‘Totally off-limits, Inspector, and no help to you at all. But what I can tell you is that no family is ever the same again.’

‘Go on,’ Kim urged. ‘Tell me something that will help me understand how things changed when Belinda came along.’

Veronica thought for a moment before a sad smile settled on her face. ‘There was a doll. My doll. She was nothing special, made of cloth with a cotton dress sewn on, painted facial features and a few strands of yellow wool for hair. A present from my parents when I was two.’

And what a detailed description that was for a toy given to her more than sixty years ago, Kim thought.

‘Belinda had colic when she was a baby and the only thing that seemed to calm her was when I waved Jemima in front of her. She would watch as I danced the doll, scrunching up its face and waving its arms. It worked for everything. She loved it and whenever she was feeling poorly or sad she’d point to Jemima and smile at me. By the time Belinda started school my doll was named “Mima” and still settled my sister when she was unhappy.’