Child's Play (D.I. Kim Stone #11)(57)

‘Respect,’ Bryant said, staring over her head.

‘Precisely,’ Kim agreed. ‘It’s like he hates them but respects them too.’

‘When I was a kid…’

‘Oh, Lord, now is not the time for one of your—’

‘When I was a kid I only ever got one smack that I remember. Nothing bad, just a slap around the back of the head. My dad hated our next-door neighbour. Constantly borrowing his tools and not bringing them back for weeks. Dad always had to go and ask for them back. I was about ten when he came to the door and asked to borrow my dad’s sander. I told him he could have it when he brought the cordless drill back.’

Kim chuckled. ‘You cheeky little bugger.’

‘Exactly,’ Bryant said. ‘That’s why I got the slap. You didn’t cheek your elders. You showed respect, regardless.’

‘We’re thinking the same thing, aren’t we?’ Kim asked. ‘That the killer is a grown-up child genius.’





Sixty





‘You do realise Stacey would be much quicker at this?’ Bryant asked, as he scrolled through Amazon.

‘You don’t think she has enough to do?’ Kim asked, typing keywords into Wikipedia. ‘A little research won’t kill us.’

‘Damn it, this screen is too small,’ he said, hitting the wrong key again.

‘Put your glasses on and stop being so bloody vain,’ she muttered as the waitress approached to take their empty cups.

They had quickly realised that they knew absolutely nothing about child geniuses and really needed advice from someone that did.

‘There’s got to be a book here somewhere,’ Bryant said. ‘Amazon has a book for everything.’

Kim worried that without his glasses he was looking straight at it.

She opened her mouth to ask when a slow smile spread across his face. ‘Got something. Self-published book by Doctor Gerald Kennedy entitled, Child Prodigies – Where are they now?

‘Sounds exactly what we need.’

‘Shall I order it on Prime?’

‘Forget the book, Bryant, what I really want is the author.’





Sixty-One





For the second time in one day Penn felt as though he was doing something wrong. Only this time he was.

Earlier he’d had the permission of Travis to visit Gregor Nuryef in prison despite it being highly irregular. But this time he did not have the guv’s permission or even his knowledge. It was best that none of his colleagues knew what he was doing and could not be held accountable. Any shit would be his alone.

‘Hey, Mitch,’ he greeted, entering the techie’s half lab next to the morgue.

‘Yo,’ he said, chewing on a chicken salad sandwich. ‘Missed lunch,’ he said, putting the rest of the sandwich back into the triangular packet.

‘Thanks for seeing me,’ Penn said, placing an evidence bag on the counter.

‘Don’t thank me yet. I don’t even know what you want.’

‘I’ve been—’

‘I’m off, Mitch, I’ll see you… oh, what do we have here?’ Keats asked, coming into the room. ‘Other than the most intelligent member of Detective Inspector Stone’s team.’

‘Sorry?’ Penn asked.

‘Well, I understand you’ve already hotfooted it back to West Mercia, so that’s a lucky escape you…’

‘It’s temporary,’ Penn said, laughing. As the pathologist was fully aware.

‘Ah, not so intelligent, then?’ he said, looking at the bag on the counter. ‘What’s this?’

‘I was just about to find out,’ Mitch said, taking another bite of his sandwich.

Realising that Keats wasn’t moving he opened the evidence bag and laid out the tee shirt recovered from Gregor’s garden shed.

They both looked down and then up at him questioningly.

‘There’s a man currently on trial for murder. The case is falling apart and this is the only concrete evidence left against him.’

‘Your case?’ Keats asked, peering over the top of his glasses.

Penn nodded.

‘And all you want is the truth regardless of the consequences?’

‘Absolutely,’ he said, without hesitation.

Keats began to remove his jacket and glanced sideways at Mitch.

‘Well, then, I suppose we’d better get to work.’





Sixty-Two





‘Do remind me why I’ve just driven over ninety miles to Manchester when you’ve been reading the book on your phone the whole time?’ Bryant asked. ‘Surely you know it all by now.’

Stacey had worked her magic to track down the psychology professor through his social media channels and requested an urgent meeting. He had refused until Kim had taken the number, called him and offered a little more insight. He had agreed to meet them at five o’clock at Manchester University.

She had waited until Bryant had driven fifty miles before ringing Woody and letting him know their plans. Not much point instructing her to turn around when she was already halfway there.

Kim put down her phone and began to look around.