Page 86 of Child's Play
Fifty-Eight
‘Okay, so I can find very little in the way of public performances after that date,’ Stacey said, scrolling through the google hits.
‘Belinda entered Oxford aged fifteen and completed the four-year mathematics degree in half the time. Whole family moved to the city so she could come home each night. Probably wanted her back at home to be a sock drawer. Not clear where Veronica was during this time,’ Tiffany said.
‘Back up. What’s a sock drawer?’ Stacey asked, feeling her eyebrows lift.
‘Her dad probably wanted her to come home each night so he could use her free time to cram in even more facts and learning. It’s like my sock drawer at home. However full it is I can get one more little sucker in there.’
Stacey laughed out loud.
‘Anyway, from what I can find the girls remained living with their parents until they were in their thirties, when both parents died in a car crash. The day after the funeral they both changed their names to their mother’s maiden name and disappeared from view until…’
Tiffany stopped speaking as Stacey’s phone rang.
She pressed a button. ‘Hands free, boss,’ she advised.
‘Got a third victim, Stace. Our previous Brainboxes organiser. Been dead for days.’
‘First victim?’ she asked as Tiffany listened intently from across the room.
‘Yep, I’ve got his phone number but Mitch has the phone, so write this down.’
Stacey wrote down the mobile number the boss recited.
‘Get into it, Stace. I want to know everything about him. Especially, I want to know why he stopped arranging the Brainboxes event and handed it over. Does it have anything to do with Belinda Evans or Barry Nixon?’
‘Okay, boss, and talking of Belinda…’
‘Anything that can’t wait until we get back?’
‘No, boss but still digging and with this—’
‘Well, leave Tink to carry on…’
‘It’s Tiff, boss,’ Stacey said, feeling the heat rush into her cheeks at the boss’s mistake.
‘Yeah, I know that,’ was the terse response.
‘Boss, you’re on hands-free,’ she spelled out.
‘Yeah, I know that too. What’s the problem?’
‘Nothing, see you in a bit,’ she said, ending the call.
‘Tiff, I’m sorry about—’
‘About what?’ she asked, brightly.
‘The boss forgetting your name.’
For some reason, she felt bad for the girl.
‘She didn’t forget it, Stacey,’ she said beaming. ‘The boss just gave me a nickname.’
Fifty-Nine
‘Glad of the break, guv, but what’s up? I thought you’d want to be away from here as soon as possible.’
