In Delphi, Indiana, a parent agreed to something entirely ordinary. Two friends wanted a ride to a local walking trail on a day off from school. Someone would drop them off. Someone else would collect them. Between those arrangements lay an afternoon the girls expected to spend together, taking photographs and enjoying an unusually mild February day.
By evening, people were searching for them. By the following afternoon, the small town had become the center of a double-murder investigation. What happened to 13-year-old Abigail Williams and 14-year-old Liberty German would draw national attention to a place most Americans had never heard of, turning an abandoned railroad bridge into one of the most scrutinized locations in modern crime reporting.
The case seemed to offer an advantage many murder investigations never receive. There was something tangible to examine, something people believed would eventually produce recognition. Yet the years passed, and the distance between knowing a crime had happened and proving who committed the crime grew harder to understand.
Richard Allen eventually became the man Indiana held responsible. His name brought an answer to the question dominating Delphi, but the prosecution opened another struggle over the reliability of evidence, the conduct of investigators and the treatment of an accused man. Behind the familiar photograph and the arguments surrounding the verdict lies a much longer story, beginning with two children who expected to be home before the day was over.
