At first, police and fire officials thought Newsome had fainted. It wasn’t until they couldn’t revive her in the ambulance that the fire department realized she was dead. Because of the confusion in the park and the amount of debris left behind, police had been unable to locate exactly where she died or to find the murder weapon.

The medical examiner testified that Newsome had been killed when a sharp object penetrated her brain through the eye. The detectives in charge of the case, Larry Alito and George Dornick, testified, claiming that right after Christmas, 1966, an unnamed neighborhood informant led them to Steve Sawyer. Otherwise, given the crowds in the park when Newsome was killed, they probably would never have made an arrest.

Marilyn Klimpton was leaning over me. It was five-thirty, and she was leaving for the day. “Sorry to interrupt, but I called your name three times, and you didn’t hear me. I’ve left letters for you to sign. And you still need to get back to Darraugh Graham.”

I smiled as best I could and attempted to follow her report on her progress today. As soon as the door closed behind her, I went back to the transcript. After three days in custody, Sawyer had confessed to the murder. Alito read the confession out in court. Sawyer had been in love with Newsome, but she wouldn’t pay attention to him. She got “hincty” when she went away to college.

JUDGE GERRY DALY: Hincty? Is that some kind of colored word?

ASST. STATE’S ATTORNEY MELROSE: I believe so, Your Honor.

JUDGE DALY: Could I have that in English, Counselor? (Laughter in the courtroom.)

ASST. STATE’S ATTORNEY MELROSE: I believe it means “stuck-up,” Your Honor, although I don’t speak their lingo, either.

According to Sawyer’s confession, he thought he could kill her during the riots and have the murder be blamed on the white people in the park. Judge Daly questioned Sawyer briefly. The public defender assigned to Sawyer raised no objections, either during the reading of the testimony or during the judge’s questioning. He didn’t call any witnesses. He didn’t try to get the name of Alito’s and Dornick’s snitch.

Sawyer’s responses to the judge seemed vague and unconnected, and he kept saying, “Lumumba has my picture. He has my picture.”

The jury deliberated an hour before returning their guilty verdict.

I reread my father’s testimony, shivering. It was as though my nightmares of the early morning had been a prophecy of what I would find here. My father, sent to execute the warrant, described Sawyer’s shock and his attempt to flee, described cuffing him, described telling him his rights. Miranda was new that year. The transcript included some ribald byplay between State’s Attorney Melrose and Detective Dornick over Sawyer’s rights.