A quiet summer afternoon on a busy Lincolnshire high street turned into a scene of unimaginable horror when a stranger stepped out from behind a parked vehicle and drove a kitchen knife straight into the chest of a laughing 9-year-old girl. Lilia Valutyte had been twirling a hula hoop on the pavement outside her mother’s workplace in Boston, doing what children do on warm July days—playing without a care in the world. Within seconds she was lying on the concrete, blood pooling beneath her, the toy still spinning slowly to a stop beside her small body. She died less than an hour later despite frantic attempts to save her. The man now on trial for her murder, Deividas Skebas, admits he inflicted the fatal wound but denies murder, claiming his responsibility was substantially diminished by paranoid schizophrenia. As the case unfolds at Lincoln Crown Court, the nation watches in disbelief, asking how such a brutal, public killing could happen to a child in the middle of an ordinary British town.
Lilia Agnė Valutyte arrived in the United Kingdom in 2021, one year before her life was cut short. Born in Lithuania on 12 April 2013, she had spent her early childhood in a modest apartment in Kaunas with her mother Roxana Valutyte and older brother. Roxana, then in her mid-thirties, decided to seek better prospects abroad after years of financial strain. Lincolnshire, with its large Eastern European workforce and relatively affordable housing, seemed a sensible choice. The family settled in Boston, a historic market town of roughly 35,000 people famous for its towering St Botolph’s Church (known locally as “Boston Stump”) and its role as a hub for vegetable and flower production. For many Lithuanian, Latvian and Polish families, the area offered steady employment in food processing factories, farms and retail.
Roxana found work as a shop assistant in a small convenience store on High Street, one of the main shopping arteries running through the town centre. High Street is lined with independent businesses—bakeries, barbers, estate agents, charity shops—and on sunny afternoons it fills with families, delivery drivers and teenagers. Lilia attended nearby Hawthorn Tree Primary School, where staff quickly noticed her cheerful disposition. She spoke English with a noticeable accent but communicated easily with classmates. Teachers remember a girl who loved art, frequently drew pictures of flowers and animals, and enjoyed playground games. Outside school hours she often accompanied her mother to work, content to play nearby rather than stay home alone.
On Thursday 28 July 2022 the weather in Boston was mild and dry, typical of an English summer day that feels almost Mediterranean to northern Europeans. Lilia had brought her favourite hula hoop to the shop. Around 3:45 p.m. she was practising on the wide pavement directly in front of the store entrance, within clear view of her mother through the glass door. Roxana glanced out periodically, exchanging smiles with her daughter. The street was moderately busy—pedestrians passed, a few cars crawled along looking for parking spaces, a delivery van idled nearby.
CCTV footage later played in court shows what happened next in merciless clarity. A tall, slim man wearing a dark hoodie approaches from the direction of West Street. He walks with purpose, hands in pockets, head slightly lowered. As he draws level with the parked van he suddenly accelerates. In three rapid strides he closes the distance to Lilia, pulls a knife from his waistband and thrusts it once into the centre of her chest. The blade penetrates deeply, slicing through the sternum and into the heart. Lilia drops instantly. The hula hoop clatters to the ground and rolls a few feet before coming to rest against the kerb.
Screams erupted almost immediately. Shoppers froze, then rushed forward. Roxana burst out of the store, dropping to her knees beside her daughter and pressing both hands against the wound in a desperate, instinctive attempt to stem the bleeding. Paramedics arrived within minutes, followed by police. Despite aggressive resuscitation efforts—chest compressions, defibrillator shocks, intravenous fluids—Lilia was pronounced dead at Boston Pilgrim Hospital shortly before 5 p.m. The single stab wound had caused catastrophic internal haemorrhage; medical experts later testified there was virtually no chance of survival once the knife struck home.
The attacker did not run far. Witnesses described him walking away calmly at first, knife still visible in his right hand, blood dripping onto the pavement. Several members of the public gave chase. One man, later commended by police, confronted Skebas outside a nearby pub and managed to wrest the weapon from him before officers arrived. Lincolnshire Police detained Skebas within the hour. He was arrested on suspicion of murder and taken to custody, where he made no comment during initial interviews.
Deividas Skebas, born in Lithuania in 1996, had been living irregularly in the United Kingdom for several years. He held no fixed address at the time of the attack and had drifted between temporary accommodation and the streets. Court documents reveal a history of mental health difficulties, including previous admissions to psychiatric units in both Lithuania and the UK. Prosecutors accept that Skebas was diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia prior to the killing and had been prescribed antipsychotic medication, though compliance was inconsistent. The defence case rests on the argument that at the time of the stabbing his responsibility was substantially diminished due to the illness.
The prosecution, led by Christopher Donnellan KC, paints a different picture. They contend the attack was deliberate, targeted and carried out with intent to kill or cause really serious harm. Evidence presented includes:
CCTV showing Skebas walking directly toward Lilia rather than passing by incidentally.
Witness accounts describing him staring fixedly at the child for several seconds before moving.
Forensic analysis confirming the knife—a standard kitchen blade—was plunged with significant force.
Post-arrest behaviour in which Skebas reportedly made statements indicating awareness of what he had done.
The judge, Mr Justice Garnham, has described the killing as “wicked in the extreme” and emphasised that the issue before the jury is not whether Skebas committed the act—he admits wielding the knife—but whether his mental state at the time reduces murder to manslaughter.
For the people of Boston the aftermath has been profound. Vigils were held nightly in the days following Lilia’s death. Flowers, soft toys, candles and handwritten notes piled high outside the convenience store, turning the pavement into a makeshift shrine. Local schools held assemblies to help children process the loss; counsellors were brought in to support pupils who knew Lilia. Community leaders spoke of a collective sense of violation: a child had been taken in the most public, brutal way possible on a street most residents walk every day.
Nationally the case reignited fierce debate about knife crime, mental health provision and public safety. Lincolnshire Police recorded a sharp increase in stop-and-search operations in the months after the murder, and politicians called for tougher sentencing guidelines in cases involving knives. Campaigners pointed out that Lilia’s death came amid a steady rise in fatal stabbings across the UK, many involving young victims or perpetrators with untreated mental illness.
Roxana Valutyte has rarely spoken publicly since 2022, choosing instead to grieve privately with her son and extended family who travelled from Lithuania to support her. In one of the few interviews she gave, she said simply: “She was my everything. She was happy, always smiling. I still hear her laugh when I close my eyes.” The brother Lilia adored has struggled most visibly; friends say he carries a small photo of his sister in his wallet and visits her grave whenever he can.
As the trial continues into its second week, fresh witnesses are expected to testify about Skebas’s behaviour in the days leading up to the attack. Psychiatrists for both sides will give evidence on the nature and severity of his condition. Whatever the jury ultimately decides—murder or manslaughter—the central, unbearable fact remains unchanged: a little girl who loved hula hoops and drawing flowers was stolen from her mother in the space of a single heartbeat on a sunny afternoon in a town that will never quite feel the same again.
Outside the courtroom the flowers have long been cleared away, but the pavement still bears a faint, permanent stain that no amount of pressure washing can remove. Boston remembers Lilia not as a statistic or a news headline, but as the child who should have grown up twirling her hoop on summer days for many years to come.
