It began thirty-nine months ago, on a slow Tuesday morning at the newspaper where I worked as a crime reporter. I was making a round of routine cop checks, as they’re called among journalists. It’s an old fashioned but still useful practice of reaching out to police departments by telephone several times each day, to ask a duty officer or a spokesperson if anything newsworthy is happening. That morning, on June 30, 2009, around 11 a.m., I reached the duty sergeant at Kingston Police. He had something for me, something that seemed at first to be routine, but which would turn out to be the biggest story I had ever covered.