Great Falls Tribune from Great Falls, Montana • Page 4

GREAT FALLS TRIBUNE WWW.GREATFALLSTRIBUNE.COM Sunday, April 3, 2005 Tft uci n. I Li If you have information on any of these crimes, call the Great Falls Police Department's Detective Division at 771-1180 or Crimestoppers at 727-TIPS (727-8477.) Rewards of $1,000 are offered tor information leading to an arrest in these cases. UNSOLVED MURDERS i A number of Great Falls murders remain unsolved. They are: Thomas Weaselhead, July 25, 1997 Page 4, Section A i "Vi-W- tif i (J I ill I When officers arrived to inter I I An officer approached Thomas Weaselhead, a 64-year-old transient, around 10:30 a.m. thinking he was sleeping in a vacant lot at 625 1st Ave.

N. When the officer rolled him over, she saw severe head injuries. Weaselhead was barely alive. He died 30 minutes later at Bene-fis West hospital. Police interviewed other transients who said some people were trying to rob Weaselhead and Casey Dog Taking Gun, 33.

One blow crushed Weasel-head's larynx and another seriously injured his head. He then lay outside in the lot for seven to eight TRIBUNE PHOTO BY ROBIN LOZNAK Delnita Davis sits at her kitchen table and talks about the unsolved murder of her son 20 years ago. McAlC filldS SMll uj When I walked into the emergency room, Cliff came screaming out of a room, running toward me, stating: "They shot him, they killed him, I don't know why they had to shoot him so many This is how I found out my oldest son was dead. Morris Jr. was just 23 years old at the time.

excerpt from an open letter from Delnita Davis on the murder of her son on Good Friday in 1985 Online Extra: For the complete open letter from Delnita Davis visit www.greatfallstribune.com hours before he was discovered. Zach Ramsay, Feb. 6, Zachary was last seen at 7:30 a.m., walking his usual route to Whittier Elementary up the east alley from the 400 block of 4th Street North. Police searched for the 10-year-old, combing the neighborhood with dogs. He was never found.

Four years later, officers arrested a convicted sex offender for dressing like an officer near another Great Falls elementary Zachary school. Searching Nathan Bar-Jonah's home, police found writings particularly a list of alleged past victims that included Zach Ramsay. Bar-Jonah was charged with kidnapping and killing Zach in Dolana Clark, Aug. 2, Considered a runaway for the first 15 days she was missing, Dolana Barbara Clark was found by a hunter 14 months after she was last seen riding her bike. The 9-year-old's skull was found with a bullet hole in the back of the head.

In the weeks after her disappearance, relatives posted more than 5,000 posters with Clark's picture and biographical information. At first investigators hoped Clark's bicycle, a red 10-speed, would lead them to the killer. But 8 'iM-fr it in view him, Dog Taking Gun had blood on his hands, shoes and pants. He was charged with the homicide and jailed on $500,000 bond, but three months later the charges were dropped. Lab results showed the blood on his pants and shoes was his own, not Weaselhead s.

Dog Taking Gun or one of the 66 transients considered possible suspects could still be charged. Detective Bill Bellusci continues to investigate the case. He recent ly asked the state crime lab to compare DNA from trace evi dence to suspects. Results haven't been returned. 1996 (disappeared, December 2000.

Those charges were dropped days before his 2002 trial when Zach's mother Rachel Howard said she would testify that she believed her son was alive and that police failed to examine leads to his whereabouts. Bar-Jonah is serving a life sentence in Montana State Prison for kidnap ping, strangling and sexually assaulting two other boys while in Great Falls charges that were a result of the renewed police investigation. Bellusci is assigned to the case. Charges could be filed should new evidence particularly a body be found. 1988 (disappeared) was the discovery of the gun that lead police to charge family friend Wilfred Eugene Mornsey 2002.

Officers found the gun barrel, pounded into the dirt with a hammer and hidden with a rock on Morrisey's 35-acre property. The 64-year-old Colorado man told police that he wanted to date Dolana and even talked to her about the idea but planned to wait until she was an adult. His trial date was set for next week but was postponed for a tenth time since his arrest. When he returned, police believe he surprised someone inside and was shot point-blank with a small caliber weapon as he stood in the open doorway of his third-floor apartment. Police Sgt.

Chris Hickman reviewed the case in late 2002, but none of the leads turned up evidence to re-ignite the investigation. No officer is currently assigned to the case. Arrotta J. Arrotta church retreats about a crime resembling the Arrota case, police charged Reavley with the murders in March 2002. After a nine-day trial two years later, Reavley was found innocent.

Police Lt. Jere Carpenter remains on the case. He said currently there are no other suspects. Bogle, Jan. 2, 1956 ment seven miles from Wadsworth Park.

She had also been shot in the head. Sheriff's Office investigators pinpointed a suspect, but evidence later cleared him. In 2003, investigators were able to get a DNA profile of the suspect after testing genetic material saved in a microscope slide. No one in the national DNA database currently matches the suspect, but prisoners are continually added to the dafabase. mm Morris Davis April 5, 1985 Morris Davis 23, was shot numerous times with a small caliber weapon after arriving at a vacant house to deliver pizzas around 9:20 p.m.

The suspect broke into the house, waited for Davis and then fled the home at 1015 6th Ave. NW with Davis' pizza money. (See story.) Michael M. Dudas, July 29, 1974 MOITO: FROM 1A Their parents, Morris Davis Sr. and Delnita Davis, returned home late from dinner, missing their son's call from Columbus Hospital.

A Howard's employee finally reached them as they prepared for bed. "I never worried about him," Delnita said of her oldest son. "He was bigger sized, so I figured he could take care of himself." Arriving at the hospital, she assumed Morris had been in a car accident. Then Cliff told her. "I was crying, and I ran up to them and I said, 'I don't know why they had to shoot him so many Dumbfounded by their hysterical son, the truth didn't sink in even as he repeated, "They killed him, they shot him." It wasn't until a nun told them Morris was dead that they finally broke down.

That night, it snowed. Staring at the man his own age soaked in blood, officer Chris Hickman checked Morris' vitals. Then he checked the rooms, leery that the killer or killers might still be inside. It was chaotic you don know if someone is going to shoot at you," he said. "Being new and trying to have the pres ence of mind to do your job there were a lot of unknowns out there.

It was an anxious time." It was the first homicide for Hickman and the other officer first on the scene. Neither wanted to declare the man dead, waving the ambulance crew inside. The gore or that it was my first homicide don't make it stand out in my memory," Hickman said. "It was seeing (his brother) Cliff. "You can't think of anything worse that could happen to you." Perhaps wanting to give Cliff some hope, they decided to take Morns to the hospital, though it was clear even to Cliff that he was dead.

Doing so destroyed much of the evidence on the body and gave officers little time to record the body at the scene. Other officers began arriving. Some talked to neighbors; others searched the neighborhood and the trash for clues. Though there was a party next door, no one saw anyone break in the back door of the vacant house, and no one saw Morris get shot on the front step. The first few days Easter Sunday, arranging the funeral passed in a haze.

Her sister frequently at her side, Delnita passed hours filling a scrapbook. On the first page was a picture of the brothers as babies. One page had all the cards from Morris' wallet left behind by the robber. Others were filled with photos from Little League, Morris marching with the Boy Scouts in a parade, the family in Old West garb from a trip to Virginia City. Delnita took pictures of his cars, the framed mirror and the gun rack he made in woodwork ing class.

On edge, she insisted on knowing her son and husband's whereabouts, demanding constant phone calls. Morns Davis Sr. began asking The light was on in the basement did it have a pull chain or a switch that might have fingerprints? Were fingerprints on the coin changer that was left behind? In frustration he turned to the FBI. The home was repossessed by the Veterans Administration a sign in the window said any property damage would be investigated by the FBI. But federal officers said they had to be invited by local police to investigate the murder or 1)10 tors on this and keep them busy." Three months ago, Brooks and Lt.

Jere Carpenter spread out all the physical evidence in the case, examining it again to make sure nothing was missed. A witness, perhaps someone who heard something since, is the key to solving the case, they say. The killer will know the few things that police withheld from the public. Unfortunately the tips and suspects that emerge simply repeat what everyone already knows about the case. With a solid suspect, Brooks said investigators can backtrack to try to find the gun.

Partial fingerprints and trace evidence at the scene might match the suspect, though with so many people at the scene DNA evidence could be contaminated. "I'm relying on someone coming forward," Brooks said. Carpenter said it's impossible to use the physical evidence to develop or rule out the current list of 20 or so possible suspects. The state crime lab simply doesn't have time. "They are not going to dedicate one scientist to a wild goose chase," he said.

When new tips come in, Brooks often pushes his daily burglary or stolen checks case aside. Unsolved murders are still pursued aggressively, he said. "We can't help the deceased. We can't go back in time," Carpenter said. "We do this for the family." After 20 years, the family lives more with memories and "what ifs" than hope for a resolution.

"I think about Morris every day," his father said. "My daily prayer is that the Lord will reveal to me who did this." Memories that surface most often are of the forever-23-year-old hunting with a muzzleloader near Cascade. Or the times when father and son worked on cars together. Though they live a country apart Morris Davis Sr. in Florida, Delnita in the home where Morris slept in the basement they wonder the same things.

Who would he have married? Would he have had kids? Would he have been a stock car racer? Would he have stepped in to his father's locksmith business? Surrounded by his pencil sketches of deer, antelope and racecars, Morris' picture hangs in Delnita's kitchen. A guestroom now, his bedroom was recently recarpeted and painted mint green. Still, Delnita returned his Boy Scout pinewood derby racing trophies to their shelves, his drawings and Coors Light poster to the walls. Easter is always hard. This year Delnita sent Easter baskets to her grandkids.

On his birthday and the anniversary of his death, she visits his grave at Manchester Cemetery. "It's nice out there. I see deer tracks, and I think he would like that." Cliff thinks about all the things Morris missed MP3 players, laptop computers, the birth of his nephew. "For a long time what I would think about was that night," Cliff said. "I guess now when I look at it, I miss my brother and my good friend.

The way I think about him has changed. I think about who he was and not what happened to him. "I think of the good times the things we did together or I think I miss him." Reach Staff Writer Kim Skornooos-Mat 791-6574, (800) 438-6600 or skornoggreatfal.gannett.com. Michael M. Dudas, 75, of 1015 2nd Ave.

was shot once in the forehead and then twice in the side of the head after apparently surprising a burglar. Investigators believe Dudas came home around 1 a.m., threw his wallet onto the bed, removed his shoes and left the apartment to either use the bathroom at the end of the hall or take a short walk. Cliff would drive, trying to clear his head, but really to hunt for the killer. "I don't know what I was hoping to find," he said. "I just needed to get my thoughts organized, to try to figure out if there was any 'why' to it." He listened to conversations in bars for clues.

He heard rumors blaming his brother or implying it was a drug hit and he got angry. "He was a total basket case," Delnita said of her younger son. "He was Dr. JekyllMr. Hyde.

I was so worried about him." Detective Joe McQuire led the early investigation. Rumors raged, and mostly meaningless tips poured in. Police interviewed 500 witnesses and tipsters. Three people from Utah, California and Boze-man were extradited, but their interviews proved of little help. A man wanted in two Western states was arrested in Great Falls and confessed to killing Morris.

When police traced his location that night, they realized his confession was a lie. The Tavern Association, Howard's Pizza and Crimestoppers pooled $7,000 for a reward. The FBI was asked to help profile the killer. Agents examined pictures of the wounds, a description of the murder, pictures of the neighborhood and a profile of Morris. All they could glean was that the killer or killers wanted Morris dead, they wanted no chance that he'd be able to identify them.

Police believe Morris either knew his killers, or they didn't wear a mask. Officers contacted police in Denver, where a pizza delivery-man was shot in a similar crime, and in Bozeman where a Pizza Hut employee was shot closing the store. No link emerged. "They had no focus," Cliff said. "There was nobody to look at.

At that point it was such an unusual thing, I don't think they were prepared for it." A frustrated Delnita lashed out at police. "Great Falls detectives couldn't find a killer if he was standing in front of them," she fumed in a 1987 Tribune story. Three years later she decided to work with police as an advocate for crime victims. When victims needed someone to talk to, to comfort them through an investigation, Delnita would be there. She helped organized victims' vigils.

She sat through hearings and trials, talking the victim's family through the legal hurdles. Joining other victims, Delnita told her story to prisoners at the Great Falls Prerelease Center, hoping it would help inmates realize the impact of their crimes. And, she figured, just maybe someone might know something about her son's death and come forward. "Doing that helping other people helped me," she said. The crime changed the Davis family.

Firecrackers, a slammed door, a car backfiring would set them off. They stopped trusting people. "I was very scared of being around people," Cliff said. "The things it robs from you are not so tangible your optimism, your outlook on life." Cliff didn't go hunting again for a long while. That was something he did with his brother, and it never felt right without him.

Losing their son at first brought the couple together, but after time they grieved differently, they fought and they divorced. "I wasn't myself for a long time afterward," Morris Davis Sr. said. "The grieving process takes a long time." For seven years, police chased a false lead. The state crime lab tested a stolen gun pawned in Great Falls in 1988, deciding it matched the bullets that killed Morris.

"Everyone was sky high after that," said Lt. Jere Carpenter, who heads the city's detective division. It was the first breakthrough, and investigators went into overdrive. Sgt. Al Redenbaugh flew to Las Vegas and Oregon where the gun owner lived.

Officers ran polygraph tests, verified stories, interviewed and re-interviewed. But nothing could shake the fact that the gun was in Oregon during the crime; it wasn't until later that it was stolen and landed in Great Falls. Detectives Steve Lohse and John Cameron took over the case between 1991 and 1995. Several suspects were cleared. After hitting too many dead ends, they asked to have the gun tested again in 1995.

This time the lab said it was the wrong gun. "At first you'd get really excited, and then you'd be let down again. It's like a yo-yo." Delnita said. "After awhile, you stop getting excited. There's too many ups and downs." The blow of the gun mistake was followed by another loss to the family.

Before his death, Morris spent his free time clanging on his VW Bug or the 1958 red Ford truck he was fixing up. He'd drive around or hang out at stock car races. Always at his side was his golden lab, Missouri River Sunshine. Morris had raised Sunshine from a pup; they were best friends. After the murder, Sunshine would go wait by Morris' truck, wanting to go for a ride.

Hearing a similar truck in the neighborhood would make her tail wag. Delnita began taking Sunshine for drives. It was an adjustment; used to riding in the back of the truck, she hopped on the trunk of the car. In 1996, she developed cancerous tumors, and soon after she died. "It was the last living tie to Morris," Cliff said.

Beginning in March 2000, Sgt. Larry Brooks became the fifth detective to lead the investigation. Leads continued to surface, directing him to interview more than a dozen people in county jails, other cities, on probation and parole and in the state mental hospital in Warm Springs. "But all the places that we've gone, they always provided a different name," he said. "You could put a team of 12 investiga Lois and James Arrotta, Sept.

4, 1964 Between 1 and 4 a.m., grocer Jim Arrotta and his 32-year-old wife, Lois, were stabbed to death in a botched robbery at the East Side Super Save on 10th Avenue South. The killer returned to the Arrottas' home where their seven children were sleeping and stole a coin collection from their bedroom. Though different suspects and theories emerged over the years, police reopened the case in 2001, after interviewing Alan Reavley on the anniversary of the crime. The former Great Falls Community Food Bank Director was fired from the store shortly before the murders. Based on his interview and comments he reportedly made at Patricia KalitskeLloyd Three young boys found airman Lloyd Bogle's body by his car parked on a little-used dirt road near Wadsworth Park.

Bogle, 18, of Waco, Texas, had been shot in the head. His hands were tied around his back with his own belt. After his body was found, Patricia Kalitzke's parents called police to report that she'd been last seen with Bogle. Kalitske, 16, was found the next day on a steep road embank By Tribune Staff Writer Kim Skornogoski.