Murder in Battle Creek

by Blaine L. Pardoe

  If he had his way, he would have been a conservation officer—it was his first job choice. Instead, Charlie joined the state police on a fluke. He and a friend took the test to become troopers, but his friend failed where Charlie passed. Like many troopers in the 1930s and ’40s, his life was one of being moved from post to post, expanding his skills and experience. He had been assigned to East Lansing, Traverse City, and in 1945, he had been posted in the Michigan thumb area operating out of the Bad Axe post. Charlie and two other troopers were the entire Michigan State Police presence for the thumb region during the duration of the war. It was in Bad Axe that he met and married his wife, Margaret. They had two children, a daughter who died young and a son, also named Charlie.

  Charles Conn of the Michigan State Police. This investigation would consume several years of his career. Courtesy Mary McMillen.

  Detective Conn was a quiet, serious man. According to his son, he was a stickler for details and the rule of law. Fellow officers noted that Charlie didn’t take notes on pads of paper but scribbled on anything he had—the back of match packets, napkins, receipts or anything else he had in his possession. His hair had gone white early in life. He wanted to spend his time off with his family, which, given his childhood, was easy to understand. He had been an avid golfer since his youth, and when he could, he squeezed in hunting and fishing as well. The Zick case was one that would prove to be one of his most difficult and challenging. Little did he realize that he was really just one of the first generation of investigators that would tackle the murder.

  A quick check of the scene told Detective Conn that the Michigan State Police crime lab needed to be involved. This was the kind of crime that was beyond the capabilities of a local state police post. A Detective Sergeant Christensen and Detective Olney led a team of two other investigators—Donald Hannah and William Slowinski—to Battle Creek from Lansing. They arrived at around 4:00 p.m., leaving the troopers that initially arrived at the scene to attempt to ascertain exactly what had happened.

  Floyd Zick was still at home, somewhat dazed but letting the officers in. The troopers told him not to touch anything. They began to pepper him with questions as they fanned out in the tiny house, looking for the obvious clues before the arrival of the crime lab boys.

  One of the first men on the scene from the Calhoun County Sheriff’s Department was Undersheriff Wayne R. Fitch. The sheriff’s office usually deferred to the state police on murder cases, but it was common for the sheriff’s office to put one of its officers on the case as well. Where state police tended to be rotated in and out of cities, sheriff’s office employees were local and often provided necessary inside information.

  Outwardly, Fitch wore horn-rimmed glasses and appeared to be more of a schoolteacher than a sheriff. He had been orphaned and adopted as a child and did not know who his birth parents were. Fitch was forty-three years old and had been a member of the sheriff’s department since 1944. He was born in 1919 in Ann Arbor, Michigan, where he met his wife, Wilma. When he joined the department, he began as a radio dispatcher and turnkey. In 1956, Sheriff Jess Purcell promoted him to chief deputy, and a year later, he was made captain. Two years later, he was appointed to the role of undersheriff and made the chief investigator for the department. In this role, the more complex cases that required in-depth investigation fell on Fitch’s shoulders.

  When you talk to people who knew Wayne Fitch, they tell you that he had a stern “cop voice” that immediately demanded respect and response. Fitch also had a “watch-eye,” an eye that was unfocused. In casual conversations with him, you’d never notice it. When he stared you down, however, the watch-eye gave an air of fearsome authority to his persona.

  He was detail oriented and always tried to cover every alternative. One year, when he had been assigned to work at the Calhoun County Fair, there had been a harness-racing accident on the track. The deputies cut the horses free, which caused a stir because the owners were upset over the damage done to their tack. Rather than let his men look foolish again, Fitch meticulously planned for each officer’s role in the event of a similar accident. One of the deputies was specifically tasked with removing (not cutting) the harnesses off the horses to which the deputy responded, “Hell, I can’t even take off my wife’s bra!” But Fitch didn’t care. Detailed planning was the key to his personality.

  Wayne Fitch was not only an employee in the sheriff’s department, but he was also a fixture in the community. He was vice-president of the Fraternal Order of Police Lodge 121, a member of the Calhoun County Safety Commission (where he chaired the “Safety Sunday” committee) and a member of the Battle Creek Metropolitan Club. He was a member of the Southern Michigan Law Enforcement Association and the Michigan Sheriff’s Association.

  Fitch was an elder in the First Presbyterian Church in Marshall, where he was also a Sunday School teacher and a member of the Men’s Council. His involvement in the community also included the Masons and the St. Alban’s Lodge. The church was an important part of his life and gave him a wide range of connections in the county. His sense of community and his dogged attention to details made Fitch the sheriff’s department’s go-to man on the crime scene, even though the state police would take the lead role.

  The spare bedroom where Daisy’s body had been found had one window that was locked and covered with venetian blinds and drapes, both of which were closed. The RCA console hi-fi in the room was normally on the south wall but had been jerked to where her body had come to rest. She was lying on the power cord still plugged into the wall. The bed with its bookcase headboard apparently had not been moved, but a small, framed photograph on the dresser on the north wall had been knocked over as Daisy had struggled in the last moments of her life.

  The spare bedroom with the small photo knocked over and the RCA console hi-fi. Courtesy of the Michigan State Police.

  The light carpet in the spare bedroom had bloodstains on it. Most were light, but at least two were small pools. The south and east wall of the room were also spattered with Daisy’s blood. The stains on the south wall were smudged, as if someone had brushed against them in a sweeping-arched motion. To the investigators, it seemed that Daisy might have been sitting on the floor against the south wall at one point before sliding westward to her final position on the floor. The pattern of spatter on the wall indicated that many of her wounds were inflicted while she was on the floor of the spare bedroom. The colorful striped bedspread in the room revealed more spatter drops and at least one spot with a bloody smear. Despite the obvious struggle that had taken place in the room, five neatly stacked 78 RPM records were on the bedspread, undisturbed. Where Floyd had thought his wife had been shot, Detective Conn knew differently. These were the patterns of a stabbing.

  Daisy was wearing a buttoned-up white blouse—soaked, by the time authorities arrived, in the dull maroon of her blood—and brown wool slacks. The pants were unzipped and pulled below her waist by about six inches. Her black and gold house slippers seemed oddly out of place with the violence she had suffered. Her white panties were still in place as was her blood soaked bra. At first glimpse, at least, it didn’t appear that she had been sexually assaulted. That would be something that the medical examiner would have to confirm.

  Daisy, lying against the wall on the floor. The blood smears indicate she slid from a sitting position to this final position. Courtesy of the Michigan State Police.

  Daisy’s head was pointed to the southwest, and her mouth was in contact with the leg of the bed. She was lying on her back with her hands tied behind her, bound tightly with the sash from her housecoat. Her left foot pointed to the northeast, and her right leg was bent at the knee with the foot pointing to the southeast.

  Closer examination indicated that she had been stabbed repeatedly, mostly in the left breast and in the left back. Her lipstick was smeared on her upper lip, and a bit was on the right sleeve of her blouse. A greasy smudge was also on the right sleeve of her blood-soaked blouse. Another dirty smudge appeare
d on her panties in the left pelvic area.

  The team went to the master bedroom located in the southwest section of the house at the west end of the hallway. It was the larger of the two rooms, though it was only nine and a half feet square. An inexpensive light fixture in the center of the ceiling was the room’s chief source of light in the evenings. When investigators entered, the drapes were partially drawn in the room. There was a double bed, nightstand, chest of drawers and dressing table and chair. On the floor of the bedroom was a flimsy blue and red dressing robe. The lightweight garment resembled a nightgown more than a robe. It lay on the floor where it had apparently been discarded, covered a little bit by the bedspread. This was the source of the matching sash that tied Daisy’s hands behind her back.

  This image shows the tie from her robe that was tied behind her back. Courtesy of the Michigan State Police.

  This perspective shows Daisy’s resting place on the power cord near the edge of the bed. Courtesy of the Michigan State Police.

  Daisy’s dressing table as found by the investigators. Courtesy of the Michigan State Police.

  The chenille bedspread was white with a pattern stitched into it. It was disturbed with the faint outline of a person, as if Daisy had been thrown onto it. The white spread was also splotched with her drying blood and a lighter crimson smear in one spot, which turned out to be her lipstick. Whoever had tied Daisy up must have turned her over on the bed to tie her hands, causing her face to leave a trace of lipstick.

  Daisy’s green wallet and checkbook were near the foot of the bed and looked as though they had been dropped there hurriedly. The light brown purse was on the carpeted floor at the foot of the bed and was upright. There was no sign that the drawers had been opened or searched, an indication that robbery was not the primary motive for the crime. Besides, few robberies ever resulted in the kind of brutality that the police had seen so far in the crime scene.

  A check of the bathroom yielded nothing out of the ordinary. Whatever the chaos was in Daisy’s last few minutes of life, it apparently had not taken place there.

  The bedspread in the master bedroom with the telltale sign of blood, indicating some of her injuries took place here or prior to being here. Courtesy of the Michigan State Police.

  The kitchen, however, was not in order. The telephone on the small ledge had its wires cut near the box that connected it to the wall. The investigators removed the cut wires in the hopes of being able to match the cuts to some sort of weapon.

  The bunched-up carpet at the sink indicated that someone had run and possibly slid on the carpet on the smooth kitchen floor. It was becoming apparent that whatever had occurred in the Zick home had not been confined to the room where Daisy’s body had been found. There had been a struggle throughout the tiny brick ranch.

  On the floor next to the bed was the sash of the robe that was used to tie up Daisy. Courtesy of the Michigan State Police.

  The front door was unlocked too, which, from what Floyd told the investigators, was out of character for his wife. The side entryway was often left unlocked, according to Floyd, but the door leading into the house was kept secured. A check of the doormat near the front door found it dry. If someone came in through this door, he didn’t leave any melted snow or slush. There was no sign of the door having been forced open either.

  The door that led to the breezeway from the kitchen. Courtesy of the Michigan State Police.

  The kitchen wastebasket was empty of trash. Richard Stevens of the prosecutor’s office noted that Daisy had been a meticulously tidy person. There was a paper bag in the wastebasket that acted as a trash bag, and she had taken the time to cut out a small piece of cardboard and place it in the bottom so that the bag didn’t tear under the weight of the garbage. It gave them a clue as to how meticulous Daisy was in keeping her house clean.

  There were a few dirty dishes in the kitchen sink. The police focused on the small wooden-handled knife found there. It was not a kitchen knife but a wooden-handled Spoilage knife, a type of short-bladed box cutter, similar to those used in the Kellogg’s Factory. The crime lab team secured it for consideration as the murder weapon. There was a small dot of darkness on the blade. To the troopers’ trained eyes, it appeared to be blood. Had someone stabbed Daisy and then taken the time to wash off the murder weapon before leaving it behind?

  The door leading to the breezeway and the garage was unlocked, as Floyd Zick had found it. A check was made of all the windows, which proved they were hooked shut. The dry mat at the front door pointed to the breezeway as the route of entrance.

  The garage revealed very little. The door that connected the garage to the kitchen did, however, offer a clue to the violence. There was a smear of blood on the knob of the garage side of the door. Whoever had left the Zick home had to have Daisy’s blood on him and had left the mark while closing the garage door.

  As Detectives Conn and Trooper Kartheu looked over the house, they noted that it was exceptionally clean and orderly, a stark contrast to the violence that had erupted inside.

  The boys from the state police crime lab had a grueling task ahead of them. The entire house had to be checked for physical evidence and prints. Testing for blood had to be done in several rooms. Sergeant Dan Myre and a trooper named Hein took over this portion of the difficult task. The cramped house made it difficult for the various officers to move around each other. Normally, the officers would have moved outside to give the men from the crime lab room to work, but the stinging cold outside ruled that out. When the Battle Creek Enquirer and News learned of the murder, its photographer was allowed into the house, putting the evidence at additional risk of tampering.

  As they moved around the home, the lab workers’ attempts to pick up fingerprints was stymied. From what the technicians could tell, Daisy had used some sort of polish or oil on the surfaces of the furniture throughout the house. The substance obscured any usable latent fingerprints they hoped to lift. Despite this, they recovered twelve prints that somehow had managed to endure. These would have to be maintained and tested against everyone who had been in the house to see if any not eliminated potentially belonged to the killer.

  Trooper Bob “Doc” Dockery made the mistake of leaving his fingerprints at the crime scene. This wasn’t the first time he had made this mistake. He had done it a year or so earlier, when a young man had been killed working at a gas station on I-94. After the print was identified at the state police crime lab in Lansing the next day, Detective Dan Meirs of the crime lab told “Doc” that if he left his prints at a murder scene again, he would break his arm.

  After checking for fingerprints, the crime lab employees turned their attention to the Spoilage knife found in the sink. It sat in a rubber-coated wire basket, as if it had been tossed there to be washed later. Overall the knife was seven and one-half inches in length with a three-and-one-half-inch blade. It had a wooden handle, and the blade itself was flat at the front, rather than pointed, with a long sharp edge and a tiny sharp point. Most of the officers from the Battle Creek post recognized it as a factory box cutter, similar to those used at Kellogg’s where Daisy worked. Initially, it may not seem that such a knife would be used in the kitchen in food preparation, but these knives were commonplace and easily taken from the plant. Employees often used them at home as paring knives or for woodworking. Was this the murder weapon? If so, why would the killer have left it for police to find?

  There was a small spot on the blunt edge of the blade. The spot tested positive for blood. Floyd explained that the knife was indeed owned by the Zicks. Daisy had used it the night before to cut a chicken for dinner. Daisy usually cleaned her utensils after use, but she either hadn’t gotten to this knife the night before or it was something other than chicken blood on the blade. The knife was carefully removed for further examination back at the laboratory in Lansing. The sink was also tested for blood, and the initial results showed faint traces. Did the killer wash off the murder weapon in the sink before leaving or was it r
esidue from the night before? There was not enough blood to test to see if it was from a human or an animal.

  Back in the bedroom, Daisy’s purse and wallet were scrutinized for any possible clues. It seemed inconceivable that this was merely a robbery gone wrong, though the fact that the contents of the purse had been dumped out originally pointed to theft as a possible motive. The purse revealed no fingerprints or any sign of blood. What investigators found was two folded one-dollar bills, a quarter, three nickels and two pennies. A Ronson Adonis lighter with the initials D.M.Z., a Sheaffer ballpoint pen and a rat-tail comb were also discovered. The Zicks’ checkbook did not reveal much either. Their balance was listed as $18.99. There were seventeen blank checks remaining, none unaccounted for. In her purse, her paycheck from Kellogg’s for $25.96 after taxes was found. Floyd Zick told the investigators that Daisy had $45.00 in her purse the last he knew, though now that money apparently was gone. The lab team packaged the wallet away to check it for prints. It was possible that the killer had dumped it out and had left his or her prints on it accidently.

  A small white button was found on the floor of the master bedroom that seemed out of place. The Zick home, aside from the murder scene, was immaculate. Yet here was a button on the floor in plain sight—something that Daisy surely would have picked up. More importantly, the button did not match any of the clothing that she was wearing. Was this a button that had been torn off during the struggle in the last moments of her life? The button was retained as possible evidence.