The Mysterious Death of Irene Dean
Early in the morning of July 3, 1925, a critically injured young woman was found lying beside the Nickel Plate railroad tracks, just south of the intersection of 62nd Street and Allisonville Road (“the Allisonville road” in those days.)
The “handsome” and “unusually well dressed” woman was still clinging to life when the crew of a north-bound passenger train spotted her, so they placed her on the train and rushed her to the Hamilton County Hospital in Noblesville. (That would have been the first medical facility available in that direction.)
She died shortly after arriving at the hospital. Officially, the cause was a ruptured spleen, but she had so many injuries, it’s a wonder she lasted as long as she did.
One account states that when she was discovered she whispered the name, “Irene,” before losing consciousness for good.
The woman’s abandoned Hupmobile was located about a half mile (or a mile, depending on the source) from where she was found, with her purse still lying on the car’s running board. The purse contained $35 and a $100 check.
The check and the car’s title established her identity as Edith (or “Edyth,” according to her tombstone) Irene Dean.
It was later learned that she was 26 years old and originally from Linton, Indiana, but had been living in Indianapolis for several years. Either separated or recently divorced (sources differ,) her (ex?) husband was said to be living in Louisville.
The Marion County sheriff suspected murder from the start. Two separate witnesses had reported hearing a woman screaming earlier that night and heel prints were found leading from Dean’s car to the railroad tracks, suggesting that she’d been dragged to the tracks against her will.
The police theorized that she’d been pushed onto the tracks in the hope she’d be struck by a train to cover up the beating she’d received.
(One source stated that when first discovered, she indicated that one of the two trains scheduled to pass through there during the night had indeed hit her.)
Robbery was ruled out as a motive due to the money found in her purse and the “two beautiful diamond rings” on her fingers.
Investigators piecing together Dean’s movements on July 2 learned that earlier that evening she’d accompanied two young men to “an alleged beer drinking party” near 75th Street and White River. (It was “alleged” probably because this was Prohibition.)
Around 1:00 a.m. the three quarreled and Dean drove off without the men, leaving them to get a ride home with other people (and fortunately providing them with alibis for what happened later.)
Nothing more is known of Dean’s whereabouts until the train crew found her around 7:00 a.m.
The murder was never solved, but that wasn’t the end of it. Seven years later, Dean’s case was resurrected by D. C. Stephenson, the former Grand Dragon of the Indiana Ku Klux Klan.
You may recall Stephenson was convicted of the murder of Indiana statehouse employee Madge Oberholtzer in a famous 1925 trial held at the Hamilton County courthouse.
In 1932, Stephenson petitioned for a new trial, claiming that Dean had been murdered by his political enemies in order to keep her from testifying on his behalf in 1925.
There’s a lot of conflicting information about Dean’s murder, but I found nothing to indicate any connection to Stephenson.
Stephenson’s statement that Dean had visited him in the Hamilton County jail can’t be proven or disproven (Hamilton County Historical Society Museum Director Sandy Lynch confirmed that no visitor logs were kept,) and Dean certainly wasn’t on her way to confer with Stephenson at the jail the night she was killed, as he also claimed. (Not at 1:00 a.m.!)
Despite Stephenson’s many attempts to get Dean’s murder reinvestigated, it remains a mystery.
Paula Dunn’s From Time to Thyme column appears on Wednesdays in The Times. Contact her at younggardenerfriend@gmail.com