When police carried his uncle?s lifeless body to a coroner?s van, Roger Clay stood across Brookfield Street in Baltimore watching in disbelief as a crowd gathered on the sidewalk. “All I could think was that someone did him wrong,” said the 32-year-old aspiring rap artist.
Now, nearly a year later, Roger Clay stands on the same street staring at the boarded-up windows of the former headquarters of Robert Clay Inc. He struggles to find answers about a death that haunts him.
Real journalism.Trusted by millions.
Unlimited access to in-depth reporting, expert analysis, and the stories that shape our country.
Subscribe Now
Already a member? Log in
Print subscriber? Click here to login/register your account
Digital subscriber? Click here to login/register your account.