“That boy is a fifty-year-old man, and we both realized he finds Afghanistan way more exciting than he does me.”

I startled myself as well as Bobby with the bitterness in my voice. Before Bobby could probe, or, worse, comment that my lack of domestic virtues was what drove men from my side, I quickly started to explain my story: the trail I was trying to follow, how Ella Gadsden’s inquiry had led me to the old Harmony Newsome murder trial.

Bobby shook his head. “If it was one of mine, I’ve forgotten it.”

“It was high-profile at the time. Civil rights worker, killed in Marquette Park. Her family brought a lot of pressure on the department until they made an arrest.”

“I still don’t remember.” He smiled bleakly. “Families are always pressuring us to make arrests. This time, we made an arrest, right? And got a conviction? So where’s your beef? You saying now that the verdict was tainted? You’re Madame Zelda who sees all, knows all?”

I pressed my lips together. “I wasn’t planning on overturning the verdict, although maybe I should try. Reading the trial transcript was like reading Mistrial, Malfeasance, and Nonfeasance 101. The state couldn’t produce a murder weapon, and the public defender didn’t call any witnesses. The detectives, the state’s attorney, and the judge had a good old time laughing over language and customs on the black South Side, except they used far-less-polite words.”

“So the justice system in 1967 had its flaws. I can’t fix the past. Tell me one of my cops is using filthy language today, and I’ll do something about it.”

“My dad was the arresting officer.” I got the words out with difficulty. “I’m trying to find out what happened. People are hinting that Tony crossed a line—”

“I don’t believe this!” Bobby thundered. “I don’t believe even you would have the nerve to come in here and smear Tony’s name. Two things mattered to him: Gabriella and you … you for what reason I’ve never understood. The best officer, the kindest man, the closest friend, and you … you … you have the damned gall to—”

“Bobby!” I stood and leaned over the desk into his angry face. “Shut up and listen to me! I don’t want to think any bad thing about my father, ever. I know better than you what kind of person he was. He trained a gazillion cops. A lot of them did like you, went on to big careers, but he wouldn’t put in for promotion himself because he didn’t want to make compromises in his … his code of honor.

“Something happened to Steve Sawyer after my dad picked him up. The men who know Sawyer won’t tell me, but they keep passing hints, and I need to know.”