‘You don’t have to, Mrs Owen,’ Marie said softly. ‘It’s written all over your face.’

‘Do you think he meant to scare you, Mrs Owen?’ asked Simon. ‘Or something else?’

Hazel Owen seemed to think about that for a moment. ‘At first, I believed he was trying to scare me, but later I wondered if he had heard me and pressed his face against the window to see where I was. I’m not really certain, but I think it was most likely the latter.’

‘We found a workman’s tool outside the window, Sarge, one that window fitters use. It’s a lever used to remove the trim and panel. Looks like he was about to pop the glass out.’ Simon grimaced. ‘But Mrs Owen disturbed him and he ran off.’

‘Anything from the crews who were checking the area?’ she asked.

‘Nothing so far,’ said Simon.

Marie turned back to Hazel Owen. ‘Could you describe him?’

She shook her head. ‘No, not at all. I’m sorry. I just saw that nightmarish face, and then he was gone. The shock of seeing him blanked out everything else. I screamed, then when I came to my senses, I rang the police.’

Marie beckoned to Simon and he followed her outside. ‘Is it me, or does this not quite make sense, Simon?’ she said.

He gave a faint smile. ‘I was just going to say the same to you. It’s not following his usual pattern, is it?’

‘Far too early in the evening for starters,’ said Marie thoughtfully. ‘Our man goes out late at night. And he’s never tried to remove windowpanes before.’

‘Plus, I talked to the lady before you got here, Sarge, and she and her husband had no children, so no grandchildren either.’ He paused. ‘Oh, and she doesn’t have Sky.’

Marie went back inside and asked Mrs Owens about any children she might have come in contact with, even if they weren’t related.

‘My dear, when we realised that we couldn’t have a family, we were both devastated, but we decided that if God had intended us to have children, he would have given us some of our own. So we put it out of our minds.’ She looked sadly at Marie. ‘There have never been any children here, and because it was so painful, I never associated closely with people who had young families. We had dogs and cats instead, and were never without company, until I lost my lovely old Lady the month before last.’ She glanced up at a photo of a golden Labrador and sighed. ‘But I’m going to a rescue shelter next week to try and find another old girl, hopefully as old as I am, to love and cherish for the years she has left.’

‘I’m sorry if I upset you, Hazel,’ said Marie gently. ‘But it’s an important part of a bigger investigation.’