The Pointe System: Murder in Grosse Pointe

By Russ Smith

The story begins as the gardener digs up a skull buried in the yard of a lakefront mansion in Grosse Pointe. The police are called, and the investigation begins of a murder that was committed over forty years ago. The investigation expands as more victims are identified.

A pointe system, used until the late 1960s to exclude certain people from Grosse Pointe, is used by the murderer to identify victims. The killer feels a need to "clean house" and return Grosse Pointe to its pristine past.

Meet some of the interesting people who have lived in Grosse Pointe over the past seventy years. One of them could be the murderer. Crash Chandler, the distinguished owner of the house where the skull was found and his companion, the former housekeeper, Celestine Jefferson. Crash's son, Charles, who is despised by everyone and his daughter, Victoria, who is respected and loved by all. Joyce Chandler, the brash wife of Charles, who comes from new money. Finally, meet the racist couple, Clive and Ella Stanton, who believe in the pointe system.

The police team includes Matt Carson, a detective with a long and distinguished career, and his young partner Chris Gregory, who is working his first case since being promoted to detective. Matt is is 3rd generation cop, while Chris is from a wealthy Grosse Pointe family.

While the story is a murder mystery, it is also a historical novel that covers the period from 1929 to the present in Grosse Pointe. Historical issues include how the community was restricted until civil rights legislation prohibited the practice, racism, and anti-Semitism.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Mar 26, 2022
• ISBN: 9781667836256

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

©2022 Russ Smith. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

ISBN: (print) 978-1-66783-624-9

ISBN: (ebook) 978-1-66783-625-6

Contents

CHAPTER 1 Autumn 2021

CHAPTER 2 September 1951

CHAPTER 3 Autumn 2021

CHAPTER 4 December 1951

CHAPTER 5 Autumn 2021

CHAPTER 6 1952 - 1959

CHAPTER 7 Autumn 2021

CHAPTER 8 1960-1974

CHAPTER 9 Autumn 2021

CHAPTER 10 1974 - 1979

CHAPTER 11 Autumn 2021

Epilogue

CHAPTER 1

Autumn 2021

Douglas Chandler III sat at his desk in the library at his mansion on Windmill Pointe Drive in Grosse Pointe Park while going over the guest list for his birthday celebration. He didn’t have a party for his 90th or 91st birthday because of the pandemic restrictions in place on October 29th last year and his knee replacement surgery the previous year. This year, his son Charles, insisted that they have a big celebration.

Douglas never used his given name. Everyone knew him as Crash, the nickname given to him by his father on the day he was born. It’s true, Crash Chandler liked to drive fast cars, and he was known to every police officer in the five Grosse Pointes because of his erratic behavior behind the wheel, but his nickname signified the fact that he was born on the day the stock market crashed in 1929.

Crash was a healthy for a man for his age. Although only 5’9", he walked with his shoulders and head held high, unlike others his age who tended to walk hunched over. Only late last year did he start using a cane or walking stick. He still had a full head of grey hair that was just a bit longer than his son thought was respectable. Today, he was dressed, as usual, wearing a pair of pressed jeans, a white Oxford shirt, a tweed jacket, and Gucci horsebit leather loafers.

Crash was thankful for an interruption when Celestine walked in with a tray containing a pot of hot cocoa, two Wedgewood China mugs, and some of her oatmeal and coconut chocolate chip cookies. Crash, are you still fussin over that list? You don’t want a big party, so why are you having one? Celestine, who had been the head housekeeper for over 40 years, was now retired. She still comes by a few times a week to bring some of Crash’s favorites and to keep him company. Celestine lived a short distance away in a townhouse on Cranford Lane that Crash had given her as a retirement gift.

Of course, I don’t want a big party, you silly old woman. Have you seen this list? Except for you and me, there’s no one on it who’s over 80 years old. They’re mostly business contacts of that social climbing son of mine. Everyone my age is either dead or drooling at some nursing home.

Celestine took a black marking pen from the pocket of her apron and handed it to Crash. Take this, you old fool, and cross out everyone on that list you don’t want there and then add anyone who’s still alive and kicking that should be there.

Don’t call me an old fool, Crash mumbled as he took the pen and began crossing off names. I can easily cut this down from over hundred names to a dozen.

Don’t call me an old woman. Celestine answered as she poured the cocoa. I’m twelve years younger than you and a whole lot more fit. Celestine watched as Crash reduced the list to twelve guests. The names that remained included his son, Charles, his wife Joyce and their daughters Amy and Lucy, his daughter, Victoria Fairfax, her husband Jordan, and their three sons. His two grandsons were married, so he included their wives on the list and of course, he included Celestine.

Here it is, Crash commented as he handed the list and pen to Celestine and then took a bite of a cookie. Charles will be angry, but I don’t care. It’s my birthday. I’m not throwing a big bash for hundred people who don’t deserve the time of day from me, or from anyone.

Do you want the party here, now that you’ve cut the list down to size?

No, I don’t think so. Maybe I’ll book a table at the yacht club for a dinner. If it’s here, Victoria will suggest everyone stay for the weekend and I’m not in the mood to have the whole herd around. If it’s at the club, when dinner is over, I’ll blow out the candles, say a few words, and then come home.

You are becoming a grouch in your old age, Celestine joked as she poured some more cocoa.

I know, and I enjoy knowing I can get away with acting this way. It’s the one perk of being old. Celestine was about to interrupt when Crash added, "I know what you’re thinking. You think I get away with being a grouch because I happen to have a few dollars.

A few?

Ok, I’m a grouchy rich old man. Are you happy? Anyway, once the table is booked, I’ll tell my son everything is already planned. I’ll have Alice make the call and send out the invitations tomorrow. That should put an end to his nonsense. Alice was Crash’s personal assistant who worked a few mornings a week to manage his calendar, appointments, and mail.

Celestine interrupted when she noticed something in the yard. Hold on, Crash, something’s going on outside. What are all those people doing out there in the garden? It looks like the police are talking to Amy.

Crash turned around and looked out the bay window that faced the pool, and beyond that, Lake St. Clair. Amy’s out there with them. It looks like she’s pointing out something to the cops. I wonder if she called them.

There’s definitely something going on out there.

You think she’d tell me what was happening before she called the police.

You granddaughter has always had a mind of her own, Crash. Let’s go out and see what’s going on. Here, take your cane, she instructed as she handed Crash his walking stick.

Amy, who didn’t get along with her father, Charles, was living in the guest cottage by the pool while doing her residency at nearby Beaumont Hospital, Grosse Pointe. She’d had a rare morning off and was having coffee in the garden while watching the gardener dig up the old lawn sprinkler system in preparation of installing a new one. Suddenly, she heard him shout something and then saw him cross himself, like Catholics do. Fearing the worst, she ran over to where Marco was pointing at a mud encrusted skull in the ground.

Is it human? Marco asked. If it is, what’s it doing here? Someone’s been murdered. We better tell Mr. Crash.

Being an emergency room resident, Amy was accustomed to taking charge. I’ll tell Gramps, but first, let’s call the police and get them over here. She took her phone out of her pocket and called 9-1-1. After notifying the police, she turned her attention to Marco, who was obviously rattled. Marco. That skull has been in the ground for a long time; probably since my great grandfathers time.

How do you know, Dr. Amy? Maybe there’s a murderer in a neighborhood. Remember that woman who was strangled a few years ago? It happens, even here in Grosse Pointe.

Look at it, Marco, it’s been here for years. There’s no skin, just bone. It’s probably been here since prohibition in the 1920s when my great grandfather smuggled whiskey in his boat from Canada. Let’s go out front to meet the police. I don’t want them bothering my grandfather, at least not until we know more.

The police were pulling into the long driveway as Amy and Marco reached the front of the house. The police department in Grosse Pointe Park rarely took more than a few minutes to respond to a call and when the call came from a mansion on Windmill Pointe Drive, their response was even more immediate.

Detective Matt Carson, who arrived in his unmarked SUV, was followed by two patrol cars, each carrying two patrolmen. The five officers were greeted by Amy and Marco, who asked them to follow them around the house to the back, where the skull had been found. No one spoke until they reached the skull when the detective asked, Who found it?

I did, Marco answered. I was digging out the pipes from the old sprinkler system. It’s got to be 50 years old or more. It’s been needing constant repairs lately, so we decided it was finally time to dig it up and put in a new system. I must have screamed when I found the skull, because Dr. Amy came running over from the pool. She then called you, right away.

As Marco finished telling the detective about finding the skull, Crash and Celestine approached the group. Crash recognized two of the patrolmen who had each issued him traffic tickets over the years. It wasn’t me officers. I haven’t driven the car since you gave me that speeding ticket a few weeks ago.

The two patrolmen laughed, and then deferred to the detective. Mr. Chandler, I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Detective Matt Carson. The two men shook hands and Crash introduced Celestine.

What’s all this about, Detective? Crash asked. He hadn’t yet noticed the skull lying in the mud.

Before the detective could answer, Amy interrupted. Gramps, Marco found a skull while digging up those old sprinklers.

The detective didn’t mind the interruption. He was content to listen and observe the interaction between the young doctor and her grandfather. If either were trying to give some unspoken cues to the other to hide something, he’d notice. He always did. Matt was surprised when the old man started laughing, so he asked, What’s so funny, Mr. Chandler?

I’m sorry, Detective. Ever since I was a kid, I’ve heard tales of mobsters buried in the garden. I always thought they were just stories cooked up to scare me when I was little. When I first heard the stories, I didn’t even know what a mobster was. I thought they were talking about monsters.

So, you’re not surprised? the detective asked.

Now that I think about it, I am and then, I’m not. You see, Detective, my father smuggled whiskey during prohibition. It is not a secret. That cottage over there by the pool is where they used to store the booze they brought over from Windsor. The house also has a large cellar. Also, Matt, may I call you Matt?

Of course, Mr. Chandler. We’ll be seeing a lot of each other until this is cleared up.

Well, Matt, my father was not a saint. Look him up in the newspaper archives from the time of prohibition until his death in 1950. There were several scandals and investigations, but no convictions.

So, you think this skull is from someone who helped your father smuggle liquor?

It could be, Crash answered, but I wonder. Crash paused and thought to himself for a moment before continuing. You see Detective, this garden has been dug up several times since my parents built this house in 1928. I’d have thought someone would have come across the skull at some point before now.

Crash was interrupted when the officer who gave him the ticket two weeks ago approached and asked the detective if they should rope off the area around the skull. Matt told the officers to get the crime scene tape from the back of his SUV and mark of the area before he asked Crash, Why was it dug up so many times?

Why? Let’s see, Matt. My memory isn’t good for details anymore. The pool was put in right after the war in 1946 and then dug up and replaced in the 1970s. A year or two before the pool was replaced, large trees in this area of the garden were cut down when they got the Dutch elm disease. I remember the mess they made when they dug up the stumps before putting in the irrigation system that Marco is now in the process of replacing.

Amy interrupted. Detective can this wait until later. My grandfather is 92 years old. I think he should get out of the sun and get some rest.

Nonsense, Crash answered before the detective could respond. I feel fine. We haven’t had anything this interesting happen around here in years. Go ahead with your questions, Matt. While Crash was talking, Marco ran over to the pool area and brought two chairs over, one for Crash and one for Celestine.

So, the detective asked, If this skull isn’t from your father’s rum running days, do you have any idea who this could be or when he or she was buried here?

Crash sat down, as did Celestine. Whiskey, not rum, Matt. My father only smuggled Canadian whiskey. He owned a share of a distillery near Toronto. A house up near Rose Terrace, the old Dodge place, was where they brought in rum. Now, as to your question, I haven’t a clue. Do you think someone just buried a skull in my garden, or do you think the remains of a body are also down there?

I don’t know, Mr. Chandler. I’ll call in the medical examiner and forensics people who will go through the area and find out what else is here and if there is more than just a skull. I don’t want anyone else to go beyond the barrier the officer is putting up. Matt then turned his attention to Celestine. Mrs. Jefferson, do you live here?"

I did, Detective, up until I retired a few years ago. I was the head housekeeper. We used to have a pretty large staff here. In those days, the Chandler family did a lot of entertaining. Now there’s just a housekeeper and Marco. They call in outside help when needed.

How long did you live here?

I moved in back in 1973, after my husband died. I now live over on Cranford Place, near The Village. I come over a few times a week. Mr. Crash and I enjoy each other’s company and I like to bake his favorites. Celestine was enjoying the excitement as much as Crash.

Can you add anything to what Mr. Chandler has told us?

"No, Detective, I don’t think so. I’ve seen some interesting things over the years in this house, but never any violence. Yes, I’ve heard the stories from the whiskey smuggling days, but I haven’t seen or heard of anything to raise suspicion since I’ve been here.

No one noticed Amy had gone back to the house while the detective was questioning Crash and Celestine. As he was finishing up with Celestine, Amy returned from the house and, as she often does, began issuing instructions. Gramps and Celestine, why don’t you have a seat in the shade over by the pool. I asked Millie to make some sandwiches and lemonade. Detective, help yourself and tell your officers to do the same. She’ll make enough for all of you.

"Thank you, Dr. Chandler. Why don’t you join your grandfather and Mrs. Jefferson by the pool while I finish up a few things? I need to make a few calls to get the forensics folks and medical examiner over here. As Amy began to lead the elderly couple and Marco away, the detective intervened and asked Marco to stay for a minute.

How can I help? Marco asked as the others walked away.

Hold on a minute while I make a few quick phone calls, would you Marco? After making calls to the medical examiner and the forensics lab, Matt focused his attention on Marco. Just a few background questions, Marco. How long have you worked here?

About 20 years. My wife, Millie, and I live in the apartment above the garage. Millie cooks and cleans in the house, and I take care of everything out here. I bring in outside contractors to keep the house going and Millie brings in day help to keep the inside clean and for occasional entertaining.

Have you ever seen anything suspicious on the property, Marco?

No, not that I can think of. Mr. Crash was known for his grand and elaborate parties, but that was before we started working here. Since Millie and I started, this has been a quiet house. So, no, I can’t say I’ve seen anything suspicious. Dr. Amy’s moving in has livened up the place a bit. She has friends over from school or the hospital now and again.

How long has she been living here?

She moved in about a year ago when she started her residency at the hospital. She doesn’t get along with her father, Charles Chandler. I shouldn’t speak ill of anyone in the family, but he’s a pompous ass. Mr. Crash would agree with me and wouldn’t mind me telling you.

While Marco and the detective were talking, a drone flew over the property. It paused briefly overhead and then continued out to the lake. The detective saw the drone and shouted, What the hell?

Marco responded. It’s no problem, Detective. Stacy Danforth, from over on Balfour Street is working on a master’s degree in environmental studies. She has Mr. Crash’s permission to fly over the property to get to the lake. She’s doing a survey of the shoreline. Her father is Mr. Crash’s urologist.

Marco and the detective were interrupted by the arrival of the forensics team and the medical examiner. Within a few minutes, the grounds of the estate became a beehive of activity. A photographer recorded every step of the process which began with the initial examination of the skull. Once the skull was determined to be human by the medical examiner, the slow and meticulous digging began to determine if there were other remains on the site.

Doctor Toni Toco, from the medical examiner’s office was the first to closely examine the skull. Shortly after greeting Matt and his team, she asked everyone to stand back while she examined the site. She’d save small talk for later. Once she got started it was soon obvious to her that an entire skeleton and a few remains of clothing and other items were close to where the skull was found.

Finally, after turning the crime scene over to the forensics lab team, Toni approached Matt, who she knew would have a lot of questions. I know you’ve got a lot of questions, Matt, but I can’t tell you too much at this stage. By the way, good timing. We were just leaving a crime scene over on Alter Road.

Come on Doc, you’ve got to have something I can use. How long has he been there?

It’s just an estimate, but I’d say about 40 years, give or take 5 or so. You’re correct, Matt, our victim is a male, probably about 20 years old or so. His height is about 5’ 9 inches and I’d estimate he had a medium build."

Any sign of violence?

Not that I can see, but of course I’ll be able to tell you quite a bit more once I get him on the table. There’s quite a bit of stuff for the forensics team to root through down there. Polyester clothing holds up pretty well after years underground. I spotted some metallic objects, but I didn’t see a wallet. Now that I’ve done pretty much everything I can do here, how are you doing, Matt? How’s your new boss working out?

Before Matt continued, he spotted the drone again. It paused briefly overhead before heading again out over the lake. He pointed it out to the medical examiner. Damn, I hate those things. Its owner has permission to fly over the property from the Mr. Chandler, so there’s not much I can do unless it hovers overhead.

Matt and the doctor watched the drone until it flew out of sight along the shore of the lake and then Matt answered her question. You asked about my new boss, Herb O’Connor. Not bad Doc. He’s got a detective’s instinct and he works well with the press. We didn’t need to break him in. He’ll be helpful once the investigation and the discovery of the skeleton becomes public. Murders in Grosse Pointe were not a frequent occurrence and when they did happen, it was front page news across the state.

I’ll get to work on him tonight so I should have more by early afternoon tomorrow. I’ll give you a call when I’m done, and you can drop by the morgue so I can fill you in.

Matt stayed with the medical examiner until she and her team had loaded the remains into the morgue truck. He thought it disrespectful to walk away from a body until it was driven away.

Before walking over to the pool to update and further question Crash, Matt had a few words with Trevon Martin, head of the forensics team. In a typical murder scene with a body, blood splatter, and knocked over chairs, he could learn a lot just by looking around and then examining crime scene photographs. In this case, he would be heavily dependent on what the medical examiner and the forensics experts found.

Hello Trevon, it’s been a while. How are you? How’s your son doing?

Trevon broke away from his team and greeted Matt. It has been a long time. I don’t get too much work in your fair city. As for me, I’m doing well. We finally got the funding increase for the lab I’ve been asking for since last year.

And how’s Titus? Matt asked.

Full ride to Ohio State. He started this semester and is settling in well.

Ohio State?

I know, I know, but they gave him the best offer, and he has a cousin from Cleveland who’s also going there.

Matt shared what little he knew about the crime with Trevon and then asked, How long do you think it will take to get what you need?

We’ll be here until it gets dark and then probably most of tomorrow morning. Are you thinking there might be more to find elsewhere on the grounds?

My gut tells me there is. Will you be bringing your metal detectors and electronic gadgetry tomorrow? I’ve got the K-9 unit coming over to sniff around.

I’ll be bringing my electronic toys, but those dogs can often sniff out things I could never find, unless I dug up the whole place.

Matt went over a few more details with Trevon and then headed over to the pool to talk with Crash and Celestine. He found Crash, Amy, and Celestine sitting at a table in the shade speculating about whether the body was from the whiskey running days. Amy got up to greet the detective as he approached. Detective, why don’t you grab a sandwich and some lemonade? The adjacent table had a nice spread of sandwiches, snacks, pitchers of lemonade, and bottles of water.

Thank you, Dr. Chandler, I haven’t eaten anything since breakfast. The detective took a very large roast beef sandwich and smeared it with horseradish and then poured himself a glass of lemonade before joining the group at their table.

Once the detective sat down, Crash was the first to ask the question on everyone’s mind. Do you know who it is?

Matt took a large bite from his sandwich and several sips of lemonade before answering. I can’t tell you much, Mr. Chandler. The remains are of a man who died and was buried about 40 years ago. Celestine gasped but didn’t say anything to interrupt. Matt continued. The medical examiner told me he was about 20 years old and of average height and build.

Celestine interrupted. Sweet baby Jesus, Crash. We could have been here when it happened. Twenty years old; he was only a child.

Crash took hold of celestine’s hand to help calm her while Amy asked a question. Detective, how accurate are those estimates of the victims age and when he was buried?

I’ll learn more tomorrow after the autopsy, but the medical examiner suggested the age was accurate within two or three years and as for the time of death, let’s just say mid 70’s to the mid 80’s, for now. When the lab people finish searching the site, perhaps we’ll learn more.

Matt was interrupted when Millie walked over with another pitcher of lemonade and a plate of warm brownies that she placed in the center of the table. After she left, Matt asked the question that everyone was expecting. Mr. Chandler, Mrs. Jefferson, do either of you have any idea who this could have been?

Crash took a bite of a brownie and mumbled to himself, before answering. Let’s see, Matt. The kids were in high school and then in college during that time. Charles rarely had friends over while in high school and then he went away to Harvard.

Matt nodded and then commented, He must be smart then.

No, not really. His grandfather went there, so he got in as a legacy. Of course, the classroom building I funded probably also helped. Victoria is the smart one and the more social of the two. Victoria went to Michigan State. She had friends over frequently while in high school and often on weekends while she was in college. Could it have been one of her friends?

Celestine interrupted. Oh, heavenly day, you don’t think it could be Albert’s son, Alan, do you?

The detective inquired, Alan?

Crash answered, as he could see that Celestine was a bit agitated. Alan Greenbaum, Detective. He was the son of my financial manager, Albert. He and Victoria dated in high school and college. He also went to MSU.

So, what happened to Alan?

Correct me if I make a mistake on the dates, Celestine. Alan graduated from MSU in 1975 and Victoria graduated in 1976. As I remember it, Alan decided to take a year off before graduate school and travel. He bought a Ford Fiesta and drove to Central America. At least, that was the plan.

The detective doesn’t care about what kind of car Alan drove, Celestine commented. Those were the years they graduated from high school, Crash. They went to Grosse Pointe South. They graduated from MSU in 1979 and in 1980, Detective.

"You’re right as usual, Celestine. Matt, I use cars to help remember people and dates. Ford brought Fiestas over from Europe for a few years in the late 1970s. Alan’s was white. Anyway, Alan left a month or so after graduation from MSU. Victoria received postcards from him as he crossed the United States, and I think she got one from Mexico. Then,