HOMICIDE - Chapter 1 of [REDACTED]

Some people get away with murder, literally. Not Kardashian literally—literally, literally. The statistics are staggering. 

As of this writing, in the state of Michigan there are [insert number here] unsolved homicides.

That’s how I wanted to start this opening, with an actual verifiable number, but then I found out this information isn’t readily available to the public. You can’t call and have someone print out a list of open homicide cases under the jurisdiction of the Michigan State Police - at least you couldn't when I was researching this case. 

Apparently, how they keep track of open homicide cases is a mystery second only to the construction of Stonehenge.

Once I was told there was no list that Michigan State Police kept of all unsolved homicides, I submitted a records request for the District 6 homicides because that includes the area in which Janette Roberson was murdered. I figured I’d narrow it down a bit to see if that helped.

My request was granted in part and denied in part, the denial portion stating “A master list of statewide unsolved homicides does not exist.” 

Wait, really? How do you keep track of them all in a way that would easily illustrate any similarities or possible serial offenders? Particularly really old cases where the original investigators are no longer attached to the case? You know, some sort of system like the drug store has to alert when you try to fill two prescriptions that would cause drug interactions. Maybe a digitized spreadsheet that notes similarities in crime scenes, possible serial perpetrator MO comparisons, for when Detectives retire and the new guys need to be brought up to speed.

Nothing? Nada?

After I received the District 6 list, it was clear Michigan State Police could get me the information, it would just have to come piecemeal and I’d have to bother them a little more to get it. So I sent another request to Michigan State Police, this time for Districts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 7 & 8.

Meanwhile, I studied the District 6 list. From 1970 to 2014—including Janette Roberson—there were 31 unsolved homicide cases in this district. Seven of those were attributed to the Reed City area. I began researching those cases and submitted document requests to the crack MSP FOIA team that I was certain had, by now, grown to love me like a daughter... or the plague. 

Eventually I got a letter that requested I send them $103.49 to get those other District numbers.

Huh? They had more than that of my money sitting on someone’s desk at that time for a request they had asked me to cancel. So I emailed the gal I was working with, prepared her an annotated list of the FOIA requests and charges I had outstanding, as well as the amount of my money they had floating around Lansing somewhere—which was, by the way, more than the amount requested for that District information. I got this response:

Renee,

Please let Ms. Decker know that after a review of our emails and files, the agreement was that the 2 requests that she paid half on and then cancelled (CR-93318 $117.37 and CR93687 $53.15), those monies would have been credited to the request that was replacing those two (CR95886, billed estimate of $5,828.73). If they don’t intend to pay the balance on CR98556 and complete that request, a request for the refund of those 2 payments should be made to us in writing. We do not have the ability to keep a “balance” and deduct fees for each request. Also, any unpaid requests would still be due at this time. Please let her know she can contact me with any questions.

Thank you, 

            Jessina Beckner

We’ll talk about the $5,828.73 in a bit. That’s a fun story! 

I knew they had the ability to keep a “balance” and deduct fees because they had already done so for other requests of mine, early on. In the beginning, the process seemed to be going pretty smoothly. Then... well, it felt there might have been some intervention involved. I later learned that was, indeed, the case.

At another point, I had received a refund for a document request they approved, changed their minds, and decided not to send me, months after the initial request. Needless to say, by this time—just shy of New Year’s, 2015—I’d had enough of the Michigan State Police FOIA Department. A root canal sans anesthesia while being forced to listen to Rush Limbaugh blather on about Obama’s shortcomings sounded more pleasant than writing even one more document request.

The problem is: that’s what they’re counting on. I learned from my research that it’s common practice to charge exorbitant fees and make it as uncomfortable as possible for the public to get certain information if they didn’t think you should have it. Go ahead, Google it. Look for court cases related to FOIA claims. They reach all the way up to the Supreme Court. It won’t be a productive day, but you will come out the other end enlightened, if not slightly irritated. I should note that it’s not just Michigan State Police. It’s common practice. Even NASA was on the receiving end of some testy questioning by Congress over dragging their heels on FOIA requests.

So, as much as I would love to tell you how many unsolved murders Michigan State Police has on the books for the entire state, I can’t. I should be able to, but I can’t because as a citizen, I don’t have unlimited funds to throw around in order to get information that should be freely accessible. I only know that in the area of Michigan where Janette Roberson was killed, District 6, I was given a list that has 31 names on it. That’s one district, and we’ll take their word that Michigan State Police gave me all the names, although I have no facts to back that up.

Now let’s multiply 31 (unidentified killers) by eight (for 8 districts) and get a pretend number that will stand in place of the accurate number Michigan State Police is unable to supply us in anywhere close to a timely and reasonable manner, and we’ll call it Unsolved Homicides for Dummies.

248; The number is probably much higher than that, given District Six likely has less unsolved homicides than some of the southern areas. They’re really murdery down south, or so I’ve heard.

Let’s stop for a minute and think about it, though, using our fake number that’s probably way lower than the real number. 248 people who killed someone—give or take a few who may have died in the interim in a manner nowhere close to befitting their crimes—so, 248 killers walking free, eating stuff they like to eat, today a Whopper, maybe tomorrow a sandwich from Panera, and they’re watching their favorite TV shows, Facebooking about their kids’ accomplishments, or online gambling, maybe spending a Friday afternoon contacting their local congressman with a detailed list of gripes. Perhaps they’re at Walmart arguing with the deli manager, or getting an oil change at Jiffy Lube.

248 people going on with their daily lives as if nothing untoward occurred. You know, like them slashing up the body of another human being before dinner. Stuff like that.

One thing’s for certain. The person who killed Janette Roberson has issues. You don’t do what was done to her and then go on to be a productive member of society. Oh, it might look like that on the surface, but the type of rage required to do that sort of thing doesn’t go away. It’s constantly on simmer. You don’t want to be anywhere around when it boils over. Whoever this person is, they are not a nice person. This person is a monster. This person slaughtered a twenty-seven-year-old woman, then gathered his weapon (or weapons) and got the hell out of dodge like the coward that he is.

Here’s the thing about Janette that gets me. You haven’t really come into yourself as a woman in your twenties. That comes later, mid-life, when you’ve learned how to separate the worries that matter from the rest of the crap. It’s when you innately come to realize the small crap mustn’t be sweated. You’re the most you that you’ve ever been in your forties, fifties, and beyond, and for that reason, you’re more confident. You finally understand how all the pieces fit, so life begins to move more smoothly around you, rather than feeling like you’re running directly into oncoming traffic.

This is a generalization of course, but that’s how it feels to me, having travelled from birth through my late forties. It’s something I’ve earned. I’ve earned every bit of the woman I am, and my wish for each woman out there is that she can say that, too. That’s why it’s called “coming into yourself.”

Janette Roberson was cheated out of that chance. It was stolen from her. She left this world while still in her twenties, feeling around in front of her, trying to make things fit. I wish I could go back and have a cup of coffee with her now. Just fifteen minutes, I’d take it. I don’t know enough about her to adequately relate all the uniqueness she brought to the world in the twenty-seven years she had here. I don’t believe I’ve spoken to a single person who does. I’m not sure if any of the people I talked to really knew who Janette was in January of 1983. Her kids were too young, still in elementary school. Her mother is gone as I write this, and probably took the largest volume of Janette’s memories with her to the grave. The family members I’ve spoken to weren’t part of her day-to-day life at the time she was murdered, so it’s hard to say if anyone really knew who Janette Roberson was when she died. There’s a whole world that goes on inside you at that age when you’re doing all that puzzling. She wasn’t given the chance to be become the woman she was meant to be.

Then there was the town. Reed City, Michigan.

Lots of drama plaguing Reed City in January 1983, I tell you what. An embezzlement scandal was brewing in the city clerk’s office. (Incidentally, Janette’s mother was the City Clerk and Treasurer.) Threatened litigation over a business owner who’d opened a Tool and Die, but alleged he’d been purposely misled about the property and it was going to cost him a pretty penny to fix. The State Police were still smarting from a failed attempt at getting a proposition passed on the 1982 ballot—one that was summarily voted down after months of mudslinging between the local cops (city/county) and State Police. 

Speaking of cops, one of them got himself tossed in the pokey after assaulting two state troopers and a bar customer, just a few weeks before Janette’s murder. It’s not clear if the assaults had anything to do with the aforementioned ballot proposal, though the officer did have an awful lot to say about it to the press after his firing. It may have just been plain old drunken stupidity and anger. It’s clear he had the latter, based on the amount of f-bombs that were tossed around in ALL CAPS in the police report. 

Let’s see, what else? Oh! The city was about $80 thousand dollars in debt at the time, the council itself got along about as well as a group of caged tigers fighting over the last hunk of meat, and they did it on TV in the form of live broadcasts.

It was an interesting time to be a denizen of Reed City in the 1980s. But little did they know, there was a killer in their midst, one who’d prove capable of indescribable violence.

The first time I cried in relation to this case was when I viewed a photocopy of the Reed City Police department’s property sign-out log. For a time, RCPD had items stored, which were eventually turned over to Michigan State Police. As of this writing, according to Reed City Police Chief Chuck Davis, he maintains a full copy of the first responders report, crime scene photos, and an evidence locker—although it is unclear what evidence Reed City PD maintains. According to him, everything else was forwarded to the Michigan State Police.

The copy of the property log, dappled with what looks like spots of mold, with its handwritten WHAT, WHERE, WHEN, & WHO scrawled at the top, does not inspire confidence with regard to record keeping in the 1980s. I’d like to think if I were murdered today, someone would at least type the label of my evidence box, and not have to draw any lines by hand. I think my blood, hair, and fibers have at least earned that much for their collective time here on Earth. I’ve tried to be a decent citizen.

There was something sad about it, this half-page that made up what appears to be six years, during which time some of the items associated with the Roberson case were stored in a box and accounted for by a hastily-scrawled chart. To me, it doesn’t seem to show the appropriate level of respect if you consider the severity of what occurred in the basement pet department of the Gambles store on January 19, 1983.

Second only to reading the gruesome details outlined with painful specificity in the Medical Examiner’s report, looking at the property sign-out sheet left me with a nagging feeling of uneasiness. Add to that sadness and anger, because for over three decades, some truly horrible person has been allowed to go about their life, living, breathing, eating, maybe singing along with their favorite radio station, when all that’s left of Janette Roberson are scant memories and, according to the Michigan State Police, approximately five-thousand pages documenting the investigation into her murder.

Reed City  PD property sign out log

I wish I could go back there, you know? Jump into that proverbial time machine and click the vacuum-sealed door closed. I think if you would have asked me where I wanted to take the time machine, let’s say, ten years ago, I would have said something like, “Back to wherever I can go to kill Hitler—or maybe drop me on the sidewalk in front of The Dakota early enough on December 8, 1980 that I can shove Mark David Chapman into the bushes or something.”

Today there would be no hesitation. “Reed City, Michigan; Upton Avenue; January 19, 1983. Let’s say, eleven-thirty.” That’s the time Gene Johnson remembers being there. He’s the only customer I was able to track down who’d actually seen or spoken to Janette Roberson that day.

Gene was the Director of Maintenance at the hospital in Reed City at the time of the murder. He frequented the store to get supplies, they’d write out a receipt and he’d stick it on the “spike” for hospital billing. On the day of the murder, Gene says he went into the store at around 11:30. He remembers meeting Janette in the middle of the store near the stairs that led down to the basement. He walked toward her after entering the front door, and she was heading toward him from the back of the store. He says he doesn’t remember her carrying anything.

“Can I help you?” Janette asked, pleasantly.

“I know this store better than you!” Gene chided.

This was the first time he’d met Janette, she hadn’t worked at Gambles that long. He heard they hired someone to work downstairs, but never went down to the pet store, only shopped upstairs. In fact, he’d only been in the basement twice, both with David Engels, the store owner. First when the old Men’s Store (the business next door) had been acquired and David was getting ready to expand. The second time, according to Gene, “…was when Dave was setting up the pet store.”

From the Michigan State Police report: “The original Gambles Store is located at 114 W. Upton Ave., which is in the main business block of the city of Reed City, just to the west of US-131, was separated from adjacent buildings by brick/block walls, however after the present owner purchased the business in 1980, the building to the east, 112 W. Upton Ave., was also purchased and in the wall separating these buildings, doorways were installed, both on the main (street level) floor and the basement to give access between them.”

Essentially two stores became one, with holes cut in the walls between them. In the basement today, the archway that was cut to join the two basements remains as it existed then—rough, jagged rock cut into a door-sized archway, glossed over lightly to temper the surface of the craggy rocks.

On January 19, 1983, Gene asked where everyone was. Janette told him they were all unloading the truck. He says he saw employees unloading into both back doors, which would have been the Gambles back door, as well as the side expanded into. Gene said he was maybe in the store fifteen minutes, total. He says he saw Dave and Bonnie unloading. (David and Bonnie Engels, the owners). 

According to Gene, they were coming in and out stacking totes. On delivery days, Gene remembers, “Bonnie would come in, but she wasn’t there every day. Seems like Dave was there every day, from the day he opened the place.”

Gene told Janette he could find what he needed, and remembers her saying she had to take care of something in the pet department. She went downstairs. Gene never saw her again. It was the first and last time he ever interacted with Janette Roberson.

You know what? Scratch eleven-thirty. Let’s go back to 8:00am. If I’ve got a time machine at my disposal, I’d like to stand across the street and watch the employees filter into their businesses on Upton to begin their workdays. January 19, 1983 was a Wednesday, the middle of the week, and I’m told it was a fairly typical day, if perhaps a tad warmer than usual for that time of year.

What I’d be doing is scanning everyone’s faces, looking for any indication of what I knew was to come. Every person that passed me on the sidewalk would be scrutinized as I waited for the Gambles store owner—or his brother, the manager—to unlock the front doors and let the waiting employees inside. I’d be watching for anything that foretold the events to follow, trying to get a handle on when it might have spun out of control. I wouldn’t be able to do that, of course, even if I could travel back in time. I’d need a lot more information than the faces of a few co-workers and passers-by to figure out how, later that day, at approximately 3:50 in the afternoon, the body of Janette Roberson would be found brutalized in the basement pet department of the store where she worked.

I want to make something very clear. The word brutalized does not accurately reflect the condition of Janette Roberson’s body. There is no single word in the English language to adequately describe what was done to her. Law enforcement officers and profilers would technically categorize her injuries as “overkill.” Multiple weapons; multiple wounds.

If I were standing across the street from Gambles that day, Flossie Earnest—a surname that does not belie her personality—would have been one of the employees arriving for a busy workday. It was truck day, all hands on deck, so when she and Angie Tillie weren’t ringing up customers, they’d be stocking shelves from the boxes and totes being disgorged from the truck by other employees, including the owner and manager, who were—according to multiple witnesses—both present that day.

In 1983, Flossie and Angie were in their 50s and 60s respectively, and by the time I began researching this story, Angie was in her 90s, living in a nursing home. I learned this from Flossie, who was one of the first people I spoke to in any formal way about the murder. She helped me get in contact with a relative of Angie’s, but as it turned out, I wasn’t able to speak directly with her. The woman’s family felt it would be too upsetting. I couldn’t fault them for it. Over three decades later, the mere mention of Janette’s name still brought Angie Tillie to tears.

It’s no wonder. Angie saw Janette Roberson’s body. I’m certain it was something she never expected to encounter at work that day, and in the days and years to come, she’d certainly wish she never had.

...to be continued.

All Quiet on the Western Front...

“There are three reasons a case goes cold. Either they couldn’t solve it (no evidence or witnesses), they didn’t want to solve it, or someone screwed up.”

From The Restless Sleep – Inside New York City’s Cold Case Squad (Stacy Horn, 2005)

That quote is pretty broad, but accurate, nonetheless.

All quiet on the western front is a phrase that originated during World War I and, in a nutshell, the book of the same name, written by Erich Maria Remarque, tells the story of how terrible war is and the personal implications for soldiers when they return home to live a normal life.

There are things you cannot unsee, things that leave you forever changed.

I often think about police investigators in the same way. Once you’ve seen the horrible things that one human being is capable of doing to another, there really is no way to erase it from your mind. It’s there forever; it becomes a part of who you are.

I understand this much more now that I have researched a great number of unsolved homicide cases. Solved homicide cases are one thing, and just has horrendous for family, friends, and community to process. Cases that linger for decades, unsolved, are quite another. The damage they do is incalculable.

No matter how much I move forward to research another case of someone violently taken from this earth, I still think about Janette when I close my eyes every night. I’m not sure why her case weighs so heavily on my heart, but I suspect it’s because I have too much information about her particular case rolling around in my head. When you look too closely at something as horrible as her murder was, it tends to sink ever deeper into your skin…into your head, into your DNA.

It’s in these times that I am more aware of how it must be for investigators who work on unsolved cases like this. How they have to take it home with them, despite what they may say about it just being a part of the job. I don’t really buy that. In a general sense, sure. You have to put your emotions aside to effectively work a case. But you also can’t be a good investigator without those emotions. Our humanity itself, our feelings and emotions, often bring us to important understandings of human behavior.

You can’t be human and not have it change you in some way, these gruesome deaths. It seeps into the cracks and crevices and it stays there, forever.

I only wish it was the same for the killer.

So, today I make a plea.

All is quiet on the western front with regard to Janette’s case. I haven’t heard anything new in months. When I move on to something else for a while, I always come back because I feel guilty for not trying harder. For not finding the thing, THAT thing investigators need to solve the case.

To be honest, I’m afraid too many days will go by and that sliver of window that’s open to the opportunity of solving her murder will slam closed. That thought haunts me.

What I’d like to do today is reestablish focus, but not on Janette. Today, let’s focus on the perpetrator of this crime. Because the one thing I know with 100% certainty is that someone knows.

Someone out there knows.

Janette Roberson was murdered in the middle of a work day on January 19, 1983. Her death certificate says she was pronounced dead at 4pm, though according to the EMT report, they arrived at 4:08pm and she was pronounced dead shortly thereafter. The EMT seemed to think it hadn’t “just happened.”

The period of time that the police are looking at as far as when she was killed is between 1 and 4pm. I specify in the middle of a workday because I would like people to focus on a few very specific elements of this crime.

Let’s begin with why the perpetrator was there in the first place. Whoever did this wasn’t at work in the middle of the day, so that’s something to think about.

CAVEAT: Unless the perpetrator of this crime was already at work – meaning they were an employee, so they were already at the scene of the crime. Obviously, all employees would have been suspects, at least initially, because they had the means and opportunity to commit the crime. They were right there. They saw her every day. They established a relationship with her. They knew the ins and outs of the store, and on that day, they all would very likely have known who was located where in the store and what they were doing. It was a delivery day. Everyone was busy putting up stock.

Now, setting aside the employee aspect, why else would someone not be at work at that time of day?

Was it their day off?

Did they work the second or third shift?

Were they unemployed or retired at the time?

Were they between jobs?

Whoever committed this crime wasn’t at work that day (at least at that time) and had the means and opportunity to be in the Gambles pet department. They also had the physical ability to do a great deal of damage to her body, as well as the disposition to become enraged, spontaneously.

Another thing I want you to think about is how the killer got in and out of the store undetected.

This is important.

I have seen cases where a very violent crime was perpetrated by someone who didn’t get a lot of blood on them, but I think it very likely that the person who killed Janette Roberson did get some blood on them, given how much there was and what was done to her. If that was the case, either they did some cursory cleaning up before they went upstairs and exited out of either the front or back doors, or did something to camouflage whatever blood they may have had on their clothing. It was January, so we’re not talking shorts and t-shirts, so maybe they had a coat they zipped up to cover a bloody shirt. Or, maybe they grabbed something nearby to cover themselves with.

At the time, prosecutor Talaske was quoted in the newspaper with this plea: “If anyone may have seen someone trying to get rid of something, or maybe even [saw] someone who had blood on their clothing—which I’m assuming would have been somewhat obvious—please call the state police post…”

This certainly suggests they believed it was a possibility that the perp had some blood on them.

In addition to having possibly seen anyone trying to get rid of something, I’d also ask you to consider anything that you saw that stood out that day, anything that could have been someone moving from one place to another while concealing their identity.

Finally, on that note, if the perp did take some items from the scene that were never recovered, that means they had to be carrying them out of the store with them. Perhaps in a bag, or hidden under their coat. Anyone carrying something out of the store or down the street or to their car after having exited the store (which seemed suspicious) would be someone to consider.

Now, how did they get out of the store undetected?

Many people came to me with stories about the underground tunnels and coal chutes, and how the killer could have perhaps scampered off underground, leaving the scene without ever having to go upstairs. I don’t believe that is the case, nor did I see any indication of that in my research. I spoke to multiple people who worked the crime scene that day, including an evidence technician that was present and completely processed the scene downstairs. He told me there was no mysterious tunnel access from which evidence was collected, and he had no indication that anyone got in or out in any way other than one of the three exits.

The reason I mention this is because conspiracy theories like this often keep witnesses with possible information from coming forward because they believe, or were led to believe, what they know or saw isn’t related. It’s one of the reasons I wrote the book – to distinguish the fact from fiction in this case. Unsubstantiated conspiracy theories HURT cases because they distract possible witnesses from what really happened.

Sometimes these kinds of theories are the result of the imagination of the public, coupled with natural curiosity, in the absence of any information about what really happened. Sometimes, though, they’re the result of people purposely putting misleading information out there to muddy the waters. 

If I haven’t made myself clear in this regard, let me do so, now. I have little patience for people who continue to perpetrate wild theories that have zero basis in fact. I believe you are harming the case, not helping, and that makes me wonder if you have a vested interest in the truth never coming out.

So, for the purposes of this post, let’s assume the perpetrator did not slink around underground until he found a manhole to pop his head up out of like a groundhog.

The front door of Gambles led right out onto the sidewalk. I suspect it’s unlikely that the killer got out that way. Think about it: you’ve just viciously murdered someone. Your adrenalin is flowing, and the only thing you know is that you MUST GET OUT NOW without anyone seeing you. You may or may not have telltale blood on your clothing, but what you don’t want to do is hurry up the set of stairs that will take you directly past two registers and onto a sidewalk that is across the street from a bunch of storefronts with large windows. Not to mention bumping into passers-by.

Aside from the front door, there were two accessible back doors, one on the Gambles side, the other on the side of the store that was the old Men’s Store. That would have been the most likely exit point, in my opinion, because it’s a straight shot out from the back set of stairs that led upstairs from the old Men’s Store basement area – which came out of the HOBBY SHOP area next to the pet department at the time of the murder.

You can even see in this image published in the 1982 RCHS yearbook, there's a sign noting the pet & hobbie [sic] shop. 

That second back exit still exists, today. You can go behind the Reed City Hardware store and see it. It's mere steps from the other hardware store exit.

The second set of stairs in the hobby shop side of the basement was not readily accessible to the public. Most people I spoke to didn’t even remember it. A few did. Locals who knew the layout of the buildings did.

The killer sure knew.

Which brings me to another opinion, which I would first like to clarify is just that, an OPINION - albeit a well-researched opinion, given the fact that while I’ve scoured every document on the topic I was able to get my hands on, I don’t have everything Michigan State Police has.

Now that we have that disclaimer out of the way, I’ll just say that I do not believe this was a random perpetrator. I believe this person was familiar with the store, was probably a local, and very well may still be around, hoping they’ll draw their last breath without having to pay the price for killing another human being.

Now…

Here’s what I want you to do. If you lived in Reed City in 1983, if you remember that day, that timeframe: if you were young, think about your parents. It wouldn’t be the first time someone considered the possibility that their father (or uncle, or cousin, etc.) killed someone. In practically every episode of Dateline, there’s someone who says, “But he was so nice.” Or, “I would have never thought it was him…”

If you were married then, think about your spouse. 

Think about your friends. 

Think about everyone you know who was around back then and within the age range that could have committed this crime, and ask yourself these questions.

Consider everyone a suspect.

Do you know someone who was in the Gambles store the day of Janette Roberson’s murder, whether as a store employee, customer, or working the scene in any capacity, including law enforcement - do you recall that person acting strangely that day?

Do you recall that person changing into different clothing in the middle of the day for any reason? Remember, if they got blood on them, once they got to safety, they probably would have changed clothing. Anyone who changed clothes in the middle of the day without a reason you feel confident is a valid, factual reason, would be someone to think about. <-- Read that again:  Anyone who changed clothing in the middle of the day on January 19, 1983 is someone to think about. 

Also consider shoes. Tramping around in what was described to me as a mass of footprints in blood might cause a killer to dispose of those shoes/boots/sneakers.

Did you see or know of someone disposing of bloody clothing or other physical items that day, or in the days after? They might have given you an excuse about where the blood came from. Maybe you didn’t think twice about it. Maybe you felt weird about it, but never said anything. There may have been things that were never recovered from the scene, so the killer would have to dispose of items. In order to do that, he had to take them out of the store with him, unless he hid them inside the store in such a way that police never found them AND he was able to come back at some point and retrieve them.

Was the person you are thinking of where they were supposed to be that day? This means anyone you assumed should be one place, and later learned were somewhere else, without a good explanation of why.

Did anyone you know or hear about visit Gambles more than once on the day of the murder, or repeatedly in the days leading up to the murder? This is important because I heard from multiple sources, including law enforcement, that someone had been coming into the store and making Janette uncomfortable in the days leading up to the murder. Anyone going into Gambles a lot during that time is someone to look more closely at, particularly if they seemed to have developed an interest in her, but also if they kept finding excuses to be at the store.

(NOTE: I DO have a physical description of this person, as pointed out by Janette to someone she knew. While I won’t share that publicly because I consider it evidence, if you believe you know someone who had visited the store repeatedly in the days leading up to the murder, let me know and I’ll be able to ascertain if it’s possibly THE person, based on that description.)

If the person in question did not work that day, why is that? Janette’s own husband was laid off during that timeframe. Although, according to a news interview, he’s been ruled out, being laid off or unemployed at the time of the homicide would give someone more time to be up at the store, so think about that. People who have too much time on their hands sometimes get themselves into trouble.

Did you notice any mood changes in anyone on the day of the murder, right before, or right after? Criminal profilers often look at pre-offense stressors and post offense behavior to help ascertain information on their perp. Pre-offense stressors can include things like a pregnancy, loss of job, relationship issues, and major life changes. Post offense behaviors can be any changes in behavior that occur after the offense like an increase in alcohol/drug consumption, mood changes, moving away, or, on the other end of the spectrum, inserting themselves into the case to appear helpful.

Did you notice any unexplained injuries on anyone on that day, or in the days afterward? During any violent crime, the perpetrator can sustain injuries from the victim in their effort to protect themselves. A perpetrator can also be injured when a weapon gets bloody and slips from their grasp, or breaks. Cuts on the fingers, palms, hands, as well as scratches anywhere on their body are common in situations like this, which is why law enforcement generally looks for any injuries or re-injuries to old wounds that occurred to witnesses or suspects around the time of a murder.

Do you know anyone that showed a great interest in the murder on that day, and in the days/weeks/months after? Some perpetrators move away from the scene, immediately wanting to distance themselves. Others “hide in plain sight” and insert themselves into the case, ask questions, stick close to keep an eye on what’s happening.

Did you ever hear anyone mention Janette, specifically, in a way that suggested they might be interested in her, or attracted to her? 

Is there someone you know who was at the Gambles store that day, but never spoke to law enforcement, or had information that could be important that you do not believe they ever shared? I cannot tell you how many people I spoke to who gave me relevant information, and when I asked if they spoke with law enforcement they said no. When I asked why, they answer was almost always, “They didn’t ask.” 

Guys. Listen, cops don’t have crystal balls. (Okay, that didn't sound right, but you know what I mean.)

Police can’t always know what you don’t tell them. 

The other answer I got was that some folks just don’t like dealing with police. 

Ok, fine. Now’s your opportunity to deal with someone else. Me.

If YOU were in the Gambles store that day, think back to who you saw in the store while you were there. Looking back now, is there anyone that appeared to be acting strangely, who was lingering inside or outside the store in a way that seemed odd?

If you were in the store that day and saw anyone speaking with Janette, whether upstairs or down in the pet department while you were down there, let me know. Every interaction she had that day or in the days that led up to her murder would be important.

I also want you to consider a few other things. This was a very violent crime. Most of what happened to her has never been made public. This person may have had a prior history of violence, dating back to their youth. Fights? Domestic violence? Anger management issues? Impulsivity issues? Anyone known to have put their hands on another person in an aggressive manner is someone to look more closely at. Anyone with a prior history of violence against another person is capable of doing it again.

Law enforcement folks will tell you that the best predictor of future behavior is past behavior.

A quick note on that: It's been over thirty years. This person might not be physically aggressive now, but were they back then? Even animals tend to calm with age.

I don’t believe this person entered Gambles that day thinking they would kill her, but I do think this person could have had an unhealthy obsession with her, and may have been the person coming into the store repeatedly in the days leading up to the murder. I think the attack was an explosive, impulsive act, perhaps at a perceived slight, and it escalated in a way that caused the perpetrator to continue the assault after the initial impulsive attack occurred. Meaning, he lashed out, then kept going in a fit of rage. 

Yes, I said he, because I feel pretty strongly that this was a male.

Also, early newspaper reports are quoted as saying Janette was found “partially clad” and that suggests some sexual component. If the perpetrator was the person who’d been coming in and making her uncomfortable in the days leading up to the murder, maybe he was attracted to her, she rebuffed him, and he snapped.

Obsession can be a dangerous thing.

I want to thank everyone who has helped me in the past. I’m always encouraged by the interest people have in this case, but I’m starting to feel wary. I’m starting to worry about the case ever getting solved.

People are getting old. Witnesses are dying. At some point, if he’s still out there, he’ll die, too. I have a hard time reasoning out a world in which the person who did this horrible thing goes to their grave, having never paid any price for it.

How does someone live with that?

I think that we deserve answers, no matter if the person is alive or dead. Those of us who are invested deserve to know who brutalized this young woman who, by all accounts, was a very special person.

If, after reading this, you have any thoughts you’d like to share, feel free to comment, even anonymously. Or, you can contact me privately at:

 deckerjeni@gmail.com

I look forward to hearing from you.

~Jeni

34 years - Still no Justice

On January 19, 1983, Janette Roberson was murdered.

Today it has been 34 years since she was brutally attacked in the basement pet department of the Gambles store in Reed City. 

What a horrible thing to be killed at the very place you go every day to earn your living. A place she probably felt safe... or maybe she didn't, I have no way of knowing what she felt. 

That's the thing...

I wish I knew where it all went wrong that day, what happened in that moment that caused him to lash out in such an impulsive rage. 

I wish I knew what she said right before you did it, what look she gave you, what it was that you took such offense to that resulted in her poor body ending up so broken.

Nobody heard a scream. 

Nobody heard her call out. 

Nobody heard a thing.

How is that—? 

Well, either she didn't see it coming, or she knew the person who took to her like a rabid animal. One minute everything was normal and then—

—the brutality. 

I have said repeatedly that if I had one criticism of the investigation into how Janette's murder was handled, it is that the brutality I keep mentioning was not made clearer to the public. That the men and women and fathers and mothers and sisters and brothers of Reed City weren't looked directly in the eye and made to understand in perfectly clear terms that the violence perpetrated on this beautiful woman was so extraordinary, I think is likely that many of the officers involved had not seen anything like it, nor have they, since. 

Not in a small town. 

Not in Reed City. 

Not here at home.

On this day, to honor her memory, I am asking you to think about your mother or daughter or sister or aunt... picture some woman you love dearly, who smells nice and cooks yummy food and always has a smile for you even when she's busting your chops. 

Now I want you to think of her on that cold basement floor—your mother, your daughter, your sister, your aunt—broken, "partially clad" as the earliest news stories described, and that floor is covered in her blood.

...and the most gruesome insult to injury here is the idea that it would have been someone she knew. Someone who knew her kindness and decency and goodness...

There are some specific things I want you to think about:

Did anyone you know come home wearing different clothing than they left home in that day? There was a lot of blood. Hard to believe the perpetrator got none on him. 

So what happened to those clothes? 

In an article in The Pioneer dated January 21, 1983, just days after the incident, Prosecutor Talaske urged, 

“Again, if anyone may have seen someone trying to get rid of something, or maybe even seeing someone who had blood on their clothing – which I’m assuming would have been somewhat obvious – please call the state police post…”

Also, if you were in the Gambles store that day (at any time, for whatever reason, no matter if it felt uneventful) and have never spoken to police, PLEASE contact them. Just your position in the timeline of the day could be a great help. You probably think you have nothing to offer. Let the investigators decide that. I assure you they will appreciate the effort.

I think one of the reasons some may not have come forward up to now is because over the years they were lead to believe "so-and-so-did it"— a friend told me this, I heard that, this person said their friend the cop told them it was—

It was the husband! 

It was a hit! 

The person who did it is dead now!

This could certainly give someone the false impression that what they may have to offer is useless. It’s a small town. There’s a lot of gossip, and even more conspiracy theories.

  

No. 

Don't assume. 

Please.

Don't assume any of those are true.

Don't assume anything. 

Just make the call or send the email. 

Don't assume. Please.

If you have any information, please contact: 

Detective Sgt. Mike Stephens 

Mt. Pleasant Post-Special Investigations Section 

Michigan State Police

Office: 989-773-5951

Email: stephensm6@michigan.gov

Already Gone Podcast - Janette Roberson and Sue Clason COLD CASES

I had an opportunity this week to speak with Nina Innsted on her Already Gone true crime broadcast. She focuses mainly on Michigan missing and unsolved homicide cases and we spent our time discussing the Janette Roberson and Sue Clason cold cases. If you are not familiar, click on their names and you will be directed to a page that gives you the backstory on each.

Click here to listen to our conversation: Already Gone Podcast

If you have any information on the murders of Janette Roberson or Sue Clason, please contact:

Detective Sgt. Mike Stephens 

Mt. Pleasant Post-Special Investigations Section 

Michigan State Police

Office: 989-773-5951

Email: stephensm6@michigan.gov

Janette Roberson

Sue Clason

Sue Clason drove a 1977 Lincoln like this one. 
Her car was driven back to Cadillac by the perpetrator that day.