Child's Play (D.I. Kim Stone #11)(69)

‘I saw the television show,’ Kim said. ‘Where the two—’

‘Oh, I know which one, Inspector,’ she said, as a multitude of emotions ran over her features. It was as though every inner feeling that had been missing all week was thrown at her face all at the same time.

‘Is that why you’ve blocked us at every turn and kept secrets? Is that what you didn’t want us to find?’ Kim asked.

‘It’s one of the things,’ she admitted. ‘But mainly because it was the worst time of our lives, a time when we were treated like freaks and oddities, judged and analysed. Public scrutiny and attention are not something I want. I’ve built a semblance of a life and my past is a place I choose not to visit.’

Kim could easily understand that. It was how she lived her life too.

‘How did your father react when Belinda got the question wrong?’ Kim asked, recalling the tightness of his features in the footage.

‘If you want to hear about that it’s going to cost you,’ Veronica said.

‘What?’ Kim asked, prepared to offer her house, her bike, in fact anything except her dog. She’d been wanting to hear more all week.

‘At the very least, another coffee,’ she said, glancing down at the empty cup.

‘Is the TV show significant?’ Kim asked, rising from her chair.

‘Yes, Inspector, because that’s when everything changed.’





Seventy-Five





Bryant had already decided on his target and stood when the Welmsleys finished breakfast and left the table. He tried to give the guv the nod but she seemed oblivious to anyone other than Veronica Evans, who perversely, seemed to be doing all the talking. He tried to pretend that his dislike of her was not because the woman had warmed to the guv more than to him, which almost never happened. Although he realised that the term ‘warmed to’ was about as loose as it could get.

But his attention was now on the woman in charge of the event. He’d found the guv’s account of her conversation with the twins intriguing and wanted to hear more.

He followed the woman into the chess room, where she met up with her brother to the side of the judging table as the three judges chatted amongst themselves.

A few whispers of ‘excuse me’ prompted him to move along from the doorway. Although nothing was happening yet, it was as though everyone had been switched to library mode, taking heed of the ‘Quiet Please’ printed signs scattered around the wall.

Bryant watched as parents took seats around the edges of the room with their children. There was a stiff politeness, brief smiles or nods but then eyes would be averted. He got the feeling that real friendship amongst parents of like-minded children were not formed here.

Jared Welmsley handed a sheet of paper to the nearest judge and left the room.

Serena came to stand beside him. ‘Chess fan, officer?’

They hadn’t yet been introduced but he guessed she’d seen him sitting with the guv.

‘Bryant,’ he said, offering his hand. ‘And not so much with the chess, exactly, but…’

‘With the whole phenomenon of child genius?’

Although he hated to admit it, he nodded as the judge began to call out names.

‘Quarter finals,’ she explained as boys and girls began to take their seats.

‘It’ll be too quiet to talk in here, want to take a walk?’

‘Of course,’ he said and followed her out the door.

She turned to him as they reached the corridor. ‘So what is it particularly that intrigues you, officer?’ she asked, pleasantly.

‘I suppose I just find this level of intelligence in children voyeuristically compelling. I don’t want to use the obvious words or come off as offensive, but big brains in little bodies is unsettling for want of a better word.’

‘So given your obvious interest, did you know that scientific studies have shown that the brains of child prodigies are different from ordinary brains?’

Bryant shook his head as they came to the open doorway of the music room.

‘Gifted children come in all types: musicians, acrobats, artists, chess players, mathematicians, computer programmers, even magicians. We can’t cater for everything here but we like to think we do okay.’

Bryant could tell she was proud of the event they’d organised. He wasn’t sure if she was fishing for compliments.

‘Are all the parents of gifted children pushy?’ he asked. He’d half watched a programme years ago on Channel Five about pushy parents and had found himself getting annoyed at their single-minded focus on the child’s gift as opposed to just the child.

She shook her head. ‘Terence Tao from Australia was doing maths and reading by the age of three. By the time he was six he had taught himself BASIC and written several computer games. His parents didn’t want to take credit or make money, so they managed a schedule where he could still be a little boy. He started high school at seven, and his IQ was measured at 220 against the average of 100. He scored 760 out of 800 on his SATs and passed the university entrance exam when he was eight.’

‘Blimey, that’s some skill.’

‘It sure is but he was never pushed by his parents and is now a well-adjusted, married man with a career.’

‘But is he the exception?’ Bryant asked.