People did rotten things, real and mythical, in the vast Leakin woodlands of West Baltimore. It’s an old story, going back decades, and the stuff of local legend: Leakin Park, where killers dump their victims or bury their bodies. It’s by now a municipal cliche. A few years ago, when I heard of a witness in a murder case claiming to have been “taken to Leakin Park” and ordered by the primary suspect’s gun-wielding brothers to change his story or else, the tale struck me as trite. I had heard Leakin Park invoked in a criminal context, or just for laughs, too many times.