“It’s not specifically about Lisa’s case,” said Gerry. “Though that still remains my main concern. We were just wondering if what happened to your daughter might be related to other events around the neighborhood in the past month or so.”

Mrs. Bartlett frowned. “Other events? What on earth can you mean?”

“I’m sure you’re aware of the two suspicious deaths we’ve had in Eastvale recently?”

“Yes, but one was a drug overdose, and the other was that poor Arab boy. A stabbing, I understand? While it’s not something we’re used to having around here, I gather it’s not exactly unknown. I can’t see what any of it has to do with our Lisa.”

“Do you know anything about either of these deaths, Lisa?” Gerry asked.

Lisa just shook her head.

“Howard Stokes lived on Hollyfield Lane, across Cardigan Drive, just beyond the park. He used to go around in a mobility scooter. He was in his sixties, with long hair and a beard. Did you ever see him?”

“I don’t understand why you’re asking Lisa all these questions,” Mrs. Bartlett interrupted. “This man can hardly have had anything to do with what happened, can he? I mean, if he was on a mobility scooter.”

“Of course not,” said Gerry. “We very much doubt that he was capable of a physical assault. But Mr. Stokes mixed with some rather unsavory characters, had some dodgy visitors to his house on Hollyfield Lane. I just wondered if Lisa had seen him around the area. More specifically, seen him with anyone.”

“No,” said Lisa. “I mean, I saw him in the park sometimes, if it was a nice day. He’d just sit on a bench there reading a book. I mean, he wasn’t weird or talking to himself or anything. He never bothered anyone.”

Gerry nodded. “Did you ever notice anyone coming in or out of his house?”

“No. I don’t know which house was his. I was never near that estate. I mean, it’s across the park. You can see it over the trees from up the hill, but not from here.”

“You never walked through the estate?”

“I never needed to. I’d come back from school on Cardigan Drive and then cut up through the pub car park.” She gave a little shudder and wrapped her arms around herself.

Gerry remembered that Lisa Bartlett went to Eastvale Comprehensive, while her brother Jason was a day boy at St. Botolph’s. “Like you did on the night it . . . of the attack?” she asked.

“Yes.” Lisa looked at her mother. “But I haven’t been there since.”

“It’s OK, Lisa. Had you walked through there after dark before?”

“Oh, yes. I used to do it all the time. I never worried about it. Nothing ever happened there before, not until . . .”