“I’m not sure. Like he’d been crying, or he had a cold. Also, it turned out I’d missed the funeral. Can’t complain too much—I hadn’t known her long—but it smarted, you know? I didn’t really see him at all after that, which was odd, as if he’d forgotten we were once friendly. Grief can do that to a person.”

“So when was the last time you had a conversation with Mr. Franks?”

“Probably nearly three years ago, the time when he told me she was dead. Proper mummy’s boy, I suppose—must have hit him hard. Can’t blame him really. And now this. Such a lot of blood. Not dead, though—that’s good news. Quite a relief that he’s still with us. Do you think he’ll recover quickly?”

“I’m afraid we won’t know that until doctors have finished assessing him. We need to find the assailant as soon as we can. And for that we need your help.”

“Well, I don’t know how much I’ll be able to tell you. Like I say, I don’t see him. And I’m almost completely blind, you know. Faces are a particular problem for me.” She frowned.

Throughout the conversation Mrs. Stefanidis faced Joanna. The old woman’s eyes pointed broadly in the officer’s direction, but Jo could tell it was only an affectation, perhaps out of habit or courtesy. When Jo moved, the eyes didn’t follow. When she spoke, they swiveled to approximately the right area. “Anything you can tell us about the past few days?” said Jo, “Even if you don’t think it’s useful. Perhaps you heard something?”

“Just the usual din from her at 6D. When was the attack?”

“This morning, we think. Well, yesterday now, of course. We can’t be completely accurate about the time yet. If you don’t mind me asking, how is your hearing, on the whole?”

“I’m not deaf, Detective. I wish I were, sometimes. When I open the window, I can hear nothing but children shouting from the playground. Everything on the stairs comes through to me too—stamping and yelling and hollering. Gregor is rather an exception. A very quiet man; I never hear a peep from him, which is more than I can say for the rabble across the hallway, with her screaming back and forth at the kids at all hours. Nothing to complain about with Mr. Franks. I suppose it’s because he’s on his own.”

Joanna thought of the herd of tiny elephants living above her own place.

“Just to be clear. You’ve never been aware of a child in the penthouse flat, at any point?”

“No. I’ve not been aware of that.”

“No partner, girlfriends? What about visitors, family members, that kind of thing?”

A silence. “Well. Now that you mention it. There was something, but it was probably nothing.”