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Authors: Robin Yocum

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BOOK: A Brilliant Death
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Travis looked over the documents, then, with complete puzzlement, turned to Tornik. “I’m not sure I get it. Did my uncle kill her?”

Tornik shook his head. “No. Your dad killed her, but your uncle helped him get away with it. Some of this is conjecture on my part, but I think I had it nailed down pretty solid. Your mom was probably killed on the night of October 1. The last time anyone saw her alive was earlier that day, but she spoke to Clay Carter that afternoon. My guess is that she finally told your dad she was leaving him the evening of the first. This enraged him, and he killed her.”

“On purpose?”

Tornik shook his head. “I don’t know. If I had to guess, I’d say it occurred in a moment of rage. I don’t think he plotted to kill your mother, but he couldn’t take the thought of her leaving. It would have been too damaging to his ego. Maybe he hit her with a fist, maybe he picked up something and hit her. I don’t know. Whatever his intentions, she was no less dead. Here, look at this,” he said, handing Travis the final two pages of the report.

Sherman Grodin, an employee of Strausbaugh Scrap and Iron in Steubenville, said he had been told by a customer that Amanda Baron had been killed by her husband.

He identified the customer as Harold “Turkeyman” Melman.

Mr. Grodin said he was violating a confidence by contacting this investigator, but believed it was his civic duty to do so. I interviewed Mr. Melman at his home, 901 Simpson Ridge Road, on January 10, 1954. Mr. Melman was very nervous at the time and said he didn’t want to assist in the investigation. He claimed that he feared retaliation by Mr. Baron. However, after being promised that we would protect his identity until trial, he agreed to be interviewed.

Mr. Melman is well known around Brilliant as an eccentric. He has no regular job, but works at the dump collecting scrap for resale. His property is littered with junk cars and used appliances. He sells and repairs used appliances out of his basement.

In the late afternoon of September 30, 1953, Mr. Melman said he was scouring the area near the old Thorneapple Mine No. 2. He had been told that several coils of heavy copper wire could be found near the site of an old storage unit that had been uncovered by heavy rains earlier this year. Mr. Melman said he was searching the area when he heard loud arguing coming from the home of Frank and Amanda Baron. Mr. Melman watched from the woods and stated that he could not understand what was being said, but could tell Mr. Baron was very upset. From his vantage point on the hillside, Mr. Melman said he could see inside the kitchen windows of the Baron home. Several times Mr. and Mrs. Baron moved past the windows. Each time, Mrs. Baron was walking backward as Mr. Baron pursued her. This went on for several minutes.

Mr. Melman said the arguing stopped for several minutes. He heard Mrs. Baron yell once more. A few minutes after he heard her yell, Mr. Melman witnessed Frank Baron run out of the house, slam the door behind him, jump into his car and drive off. Mr. Melman crept up to the side of the house and peeked into the dining room window. He could see the legs of Mrs. Baron extending through the doorway from the living room into the dining room. She was not moving. Mr. Melman entered the house through the back door, which remained unlocked. There was a baby crying upstairs and Mrs. Baron was lying on her side on the living room floor. Blood was seen coming from her head and forming a puddle on the linoleum floor.

Mr. Melman became very scared and ran out of the house. He said nothing of this to anyone until he told his friend at the scrapyard. Mr. Melman is very upset that his friend violated his confidence. According to Mr. Melman, and several independent sources, Mr. Baron has a history of thuggish behavior and Mr. Melman fears for his life if he is forced to testify. He was promised protection from Mr. Baron.

June 3, 1954: Sheriff Stuart DiChassi: Interview of Harold Melman at Ohio Valley Hospital in Steubenville.

Mr. Melman was brought to the hospital March 16, unconscious, the result of a beating he received from an unknown assailant. He received facial lacerations, a broken jaw and extensive dental damage, a fractured skull, a broken nose, and a fractured orbital socket. Mr. Melman was attacked in his home, 901 Simpson Ridge Road in Brilliant, and was beaten with a blunt instrument, perhaps a pipe or a baseball bat. Mr. Melman said he cannot identify his attacker. It is this investigator’s belief that Mr. Melman knows his attacker, but is afraid to identify him.

Mr. Melman had previously been interviewed by former detective Chase Tornik. During that interview, Mr. Melman claimed to have extensive information about the death of Amanda Baron. However, when interviewed at the hospital by this detective, Mr. Melman said he had no personal knowledge of Mrs. Baron’s death, nor would he ever testify in court. When he was questioned about the information he had given to former detective Tornik, Mr. Melman said the report was completely false. In light of former detective Tornik’s recent problems, it is the opinion of this investigator that the prosecution could not present Mr. Melman as a reliable witness as his previous statement to former detective Tornik would not hold up in court.

There is some question as to whether Mr. Melman will ever be able to make a full recovery. Since the attack, he has become extremely nervous, and has frequent nightmares. Mr. Melman also suffered mild brain damage, and the beating has left him with a severe speech impediment and hospital personnel have a difficult time understanding him. At times of duress he chants a cry that doctors say sounds like: Nomo-teemo-nomo.

I remembered the day Turk Melman died, July 4th the previous summer, and the reports that in his hallucinogenic final hours, Turk supposedly repeatedly cried out,
Nomo-teemo-nomo.

Travis folded the report and looked at Tornik. “Big Frank beat him up.”

Tornik nodded. “That’s what I suspect.”

“No, he did. There’s no doubt in my mind. Big Frank did it. Nomo-teemo-nomo.”

“Gibberish,” Tornik said.

“That’s what I thought when he died last summer. Word went around town that when he was loony with the fever, that’s what he was chanting—nomo-teemo-nomo. Everyone thought it was some kind of directions to a treasure trove of gold that he supposedly had buried on the property.”

“Maybe it was.”

Travis shook his head. “No. I understand it. I spent years listening to Turkeyman. Let me see your pen.”

On the back of the paper he wrote:

Nomo-teemo-nomo

And beneath that:

No more, Tino, no more.

He showed it to Tornik. “My dad’s full name is Francis Martino Baron. When he was younger, when he and Turk were in high school together, my dad’s nickname was Tino. It wasn’t gibberish. He was crying for mercy. No more, Tino, no more.” Travis shook his head. “I can hear him saying it, ‘nomo-teemo-nomo.’ He wanted Big Frank to stop beating him. All these years, people have believed that Turkeyman was beaten by someone trying to find his gold, but it was Big Frank making sure he never testified.”

“Melman was already afraid of your dad. Imagine what it was like after that beating.”

“I wonder how Big Frank found out that Turk had seen my mom dead.”

Tornik shrugged. “If you tell one person, you might as well put it in the newspaper. That guy at the scrapyard who called me probably told someone else, swore them to secrecy, then they told someone and swore them to secrecy, and so on until it got to one of your dad’s friends.”

“But the boat? What’s this about Uncle Tony and Trisha running up the creek?”

“My theory is that your dad killed your mom, panicked, and went to ask your uncle for help. I always believed they put the body in the river and then staged the accident so authorities would find her and it would look like an accident. But, based on what you just told me, they obviously dumped the body in the cistern. They panicked, buried her, then realized it was a likely place to look. They probably figured that if she just disappeared, the cops would search the property and find the body, so they came up with the scheme for sinking the boat and making it look like she drowned. Your dad called and got a shipment, then left town. That eliminated him as a suspect. Your uncle and aunt, the precious flower that she was, got the boat out of the dock in the middle of the night and docked it up Goulds Creek so no one would see them take it out. They probably went downriver after dark and waited for a barge. They drove into the path of the barge, which was on the Ohio side of the river. Remember, it didn’t drift, because when we found the ignition switch it was still in the
on
position. They headed it toward the barge and jumped naked into the river and swam to shore. The captain sees two naked people—a man and a woman—dive in the river while he’s trying to avoid a crash; he doesn’t get a good look, really. They have clothes stashed on shore, then run home up the creek bank, which was when Mrs. Sabo saw them. They shower up and are in bed sleeping, or waiting, when the cops knock on the door. They feign sorrow and go up to the house and get you. Your dad is out of town, so no one suspects him of anything. They’re dredging the river for the bodies, which, of course, aren’t there, so the rumors begin that your mom and her lover ran off together, but no one suspects any foul play. This gives your dad time to play the role of the grieving spouse. Later, he puts a cement cap on the cistern. Case closed.”

“Until now,” I said.

Tornik looked back at me, then at Travis, and slowly shook his head. “If you’re thinking of going to the cops with this, that’s honorable, but it’s too late. It will cause you nothing but heartache.”

“How do you figure?” Travis asked.

“It’s been too long. There’s no proof whatsoever that your dad killed her. He has an alibi. He was out of town, and he’ll testify that your mother was alive and well when he left. I know he did it and you know he did it, but a prosecutor would never take the case before the grand jury. Never. There are no witnesses or physical evidence linking him to the murder. Mr. Melman was the only witness who could slam the door on your dad, and he’s dead. The only other witnesses that could put your dad away are your Uncle Tony and his wife, and they’re both dead. They were the ones seen running up the creek bank the night the boat was hit, which would make them prime suspects in the murder. Mrs. Sabo’s report would be turned over to a defense attorney and he would use that to deflect all attention away from your dad. On top of that, the defense attorney also would get reports linking Clay Carter as your mother’s lover. They’ll finger him as a possible suspect.” Tornik lit a cigarette. “Then, Mr. Carter gets dragged through the mud. You don’t want to do that.”

Travis shook his head. “No, I don’t. And Big Frank’s got the love letters that Mr. Carter sent my mom. I’m sure he would use them against him. Big Frank would claim that mom was trying to break off the relationship and that it was Mr. Carter who killed her in a fit of rage.”

Tornik frowned. “I didn’t know about the letters.”

“A recent development,” Travis said, staring out into the night.

“Besides, what happens between you and your dad when you turn him over to the cops? He’ll obviously know that you ratted him out. That could get extremely ugly.”

Travis was silent as Tornik worked on his cigarette. “Maybe I’ll take care of it myself,” Travis finally said, turning toward the detective. “That cistern’s big enough to hold another body.”

Tornik pointed at Travis with the glowing stub of a Camel. “I hope that’s just bluster on your part. I know you’d like to kill the old man and get away with it, but you wouldn’t. You’d get caught; sure as shit, you’d get caught. Yeah, your dad got away with it, but that was because I couldn’t finish the job. If I stayed on the case, your dad would have gone to prison for a long time.”

“And now?” I asked.

Tornik sent a stream of smoke out the window and shrugged. “Now? We go on with our lives.”

“That’s it?” Travis asked. “He gets away with murder?”

Slowly, Tornik nodded his head. “Unfortunately, yes.”

BOOK: A Brilliant Death
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