Eli Thomas Jefferson was a 34-year-old never married, unemployed man who lived with his female roommate. He was reported to be a chronic alcoholic. A statement made by his roommate indicated that he had received a deep cut under his left arm and several smaller cuts to his face from a broken bottle. The body was in an advanced stage of decomposition and was insect infested with dried blood on most areas of the torso as well as arms and legs.
“How long was Merodie in the house with the body?” I asked.
“Two weeks,” G. K. said.
“That’s nuts.”
“Yeah, it is.”
The decedent had no significant past medical history.
A postmortem examination was performed which showed severe fatty metamorphosis of the liver with mild hepatic fibrosis. An alcohol analysis was performed on spleen tissue and was 0.333 GM/100 GM. Examination of the scalp after removal of hair revealed two areas of discoloration and laceration to the back of the head, each measuring between 4 CM and 6 CM. Areas are discolored reddish-blue and are characterized by a central contusion/laceration. In addition, there was a 2 MM laceration (partial transection) of the brachial artery within the left axilla (armpit). Clotting and inflammation around the wound would indicate that the victim lived 8-12 hours after the wound was received.
The death was classified as a Homicide-Accident-Undetermined and attributed to complications of acute blood loss, due to left axilla laceration. Acute chronic alcoholism and acute ethanol intoxication were listed as associated significant conditions.
“In other words, Jefferson died from a cut under his arm the length of my fingernail that he could have fixed with a Band-Aid,” I said.
G. K. never lifted her eyes from the road.
“The blood wouldn’t clot because of the alcohol,” she said. “He passed out, and while he was out, he bled to death.”
“If the sonuvabitch had been even close to sober . . .”
I didn’t finish the thought, stopping instead to re-read the words
two areas of discoloration and laceration to the back of the head.
“Two areas,” I said aloud.
G. K. caught my drift quickly. “One wound could be attributed to a fall,” she said. “Not two.”
“Someone beat this guy on the head, G. K. Which raises the question, did he bleed to death after passing out from the alcohol or from the beating?”
“Inconclusive. If the coroner knew for sure, it would be in the report.”
She swung the Cruiser into the left lane and accelerated past a slower driver just as we entered the 35W–Highway 36 interchange.
“Tuseman has to have something that’s not in the report,” G. K. said. “As it stands, maybe he can make a case for assault one. Maybe he can make man three. Maybe, it’s a stretch, but maybe he can get a grand jury to go along with unintentional murder in the third degree. Maybe. But murder two? He has to have more.”
“Like what?”
“I was hoping you could tell me.”
I kept reading. A Supplementary Investigation Report issued by the Anoka County Criminal Investigation Department deputy who had first responded to Officer Boyd Baumbach’s call for assistance didn’t tell me much, although there was one passage that did interest me.
The entire inside of the house was filthy. There was a large amount of feces on the floors and also smeared on the wall in places. Each room was littered with a large amount of empty beer cans and liquor bottles . . . The basement contains a family room that was equally as filthy as the upstairs of the home with blood pools and feces strewn about. However, a bedroom, which appeared to be set up for a small child, was immaculate. There was no blood or dirt of any kind.
The supplemental also listed an address for Eli Jefferson’s next of kin—Evonne Louise Lowman—and Merodie’s mother, Mrs. Sharon Davies.
We were on Highway 10 heading west by the time I finished the nineteen-page report—single spaced—issued by the Anoka County Sheriff’s Office crime lab. The report described in minute detail every bloodstain, every shard of broken glass, every liquor bottle and beer can, and where they were located in the Merodie Davies residence. My eyes grew weary reading it all.
“Geez, you guys,” I muttered. “There’s conscientious and then there’s anal retentive.”
Only two entries from the summary made it into my notebook. The first described a Lady Thumper softball bat with blood smears on the barrel. The bat was discovered lying on the floor
exactly two feet, seven inches from the body (see photographs).
The second concerned one of the other thirty-eight items collected and tagged as evidence.
Found on right arm of sofa in living room, one white, number ten envelope, blank, containing one personal check dated Saturday, One August, in the amount of four thousand, one hundred sixty-six dollars and sixty-seven cents ($4,166.67) made out to Merodie Davies and drawn on an account owned by Priscilla St. Ana, Woodbury, MN.