That's the question that still rankles police after Officer Patrick McDonald was murdered last month by a parolee with two years left on his sentence.

Daniel Giddings was a felon with a violent history who was released in August, after serving 10 years of a six-to-12-year sentence for armed robbery and aggravated assault.

What was he doing on the street?

It's a legitimate question, not just a rhetorical rant against the system.

But the fact is, you can't get much of an answer.

What you get is the "green paper" from the state parole board listing criteria an inmate met before being approved for release.

In Giddings' case, he "accepted responsiblity" for his crime, showed "remorse," completed "institutional programs," got a positive recommendation from the department of corrections and so on.

But if you want to ask for more specific information from the board members who abbreviated his sentence, you can't.

Their identities are secret.

The names of the nine members of the Pennsylvania Board of Probation and Parole are public. But they don't all make the decision.

According to Sherry Tate, spokeswoman for the parole board, a felon is interviewed at the prison where he's incarcerated by two to five board members. They make the decision, Tate said, and there's no review by the whole board.

And their identities are confidential.

So you can't ask questions about reasons and rationales; you can't get answers, and you can't hold anyone accountable.

In other words, public officials who earn taxpayer dollars make decisions that sometimes have dramatic repercussions.

And the state says we have no right to know who they are.

It makes no sense to me.

This isn't about facilitating a witch hunt.