It was never more than the mawkish comment of a man whose children were utter strangers to him and who was struggling to answer a lawyer’s gentle questions about who Jeffrey Baldwin had been.
Richard Baldwin was Jeffrey’s father, but he didn’t have a clue about what the little boy had liked, what kind of child he was, what had made him tick.
So at the coroner’s inquest into his son’s murder last fall, when lawyer Freya Kristjanson was asking him about Jeffrey, Mr. Baldwin had to search his scant memories.
What he came up with was frankly observational, a list of things a passerby or one-time babysitter could have offered: Jeffrey was affectionate; he had blonde curly hair; he loved dinky cars and, oh yes, Superman. (more...)
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