School wasn’t out yet and the drug trade didn’t really get going until dusk. The dealers, dopers and gangbangers were all still sleeping.

The complex was a maze of two-story buildings painted in two tones. Brown and beige on most of the buildings. Lime and beige on the rest. The structures were unadorned by any bushes or trees, for these could be used to hide drugs and weapons. Overall, the place had the look of a newly built community where the extras had not yet been put in place. Only on closer inspection, it was clear that it wasn’t fresh paint on the walls and these weren’t new buildings.

We found the address Braselton gave me without difficulty. It was a corner apartment on the second floor with the stairway on the right side of the building. Lester took a large, heavy camera bag out of the car and locked it.

“You won’t need all of that if we get inside,” I said. “If she lets you shoot her, you’re gonna have to do it quick.”

“I don’t care if I don’t shoot a frame. I’m not leaving my stuff in the car.”

“Got it.”

When we reached the second floor, I noticed that the front door to the apartment was open behind a screen door with bars on it. I approached it and looked around before knocking. I saw no one in any of the parking lots or yards of the complex. It was as though the place were completely empty.

I knocked.

“Mrs. Sessums?”

I waited and soon heard a voice come through the screen. I recognized it from the call on Friday.

“Who that?”

“It’s Jack McEvoy. We talked on Friday. From the Times?”

The screen was dirty with years of grime and dust caked on it. I could not see into the apartment.

“What you doin’ here, boy?”

“I came to talk to you, ma’am. Over the weekend I did a lot of thinking about what you said on the phone.”

“How in hell you fine me?”

I could tell by the closeness of her voice that she was on the other side of the screen now. I could only see her shape through the grit.

“Because I knew this is where Alonzo was arrested.”

“Who dat wit’ you?”

“This is Sonny Lester, who works at the newspaper with me. Mrs. Sessums, I’m here because I thought about what you said and I want to look into Alonzo’s case. If he’s innocent I want to help him get out.”

Accent on if.

“A course, he’s innocent. He didn’t do nothin’.”

“Can we come in and talk about it?” I said quickly. “I want to see what I can do.”

“You can come in but don’ be taking no pitchers. Uh-uh, no pitchers.”

The screen door popped open a few inches and I grabbed the handle and pulled it wide. I immediately assessed the woman in the doorway as Alonzo Winslow’s grandmother. She looked to be about sixty years old, with dyed black cornrows showing gray at the roots.