Dark Downeast - The Murder of Abraham Levine and Trial of Eleanor Johnson (Maine)

Episode Date: March 5, 2026

On a quiet Saturday night in 1931, a 19-year-old cattle dealer sat at his desk to write a check that he never got the chance to finish signing.  Investigators were left with more questions than answers – a missing revolver, a name on a check no one could trace, and a household already tangled in rumor and tension. What followed was a shifting investigation, a contested admission, and a trial that forced a small New England city to confront issues of race, reputation, and reasonable doubt. View source material and photos for this episode at: darkdowneast.com/abrahamlevine-eleanorjohnson   Dark Downeast is an Audiochuck and Kylie Media production hosted by Kylie Low. Follow @darkdowneast on Instagram, Facebook, and TikTok To suggest a case visit darkdowneast.com/submit-case Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

On a quiet Saturday night in 1931, a 19-year-old cattle dealer sat at his desk to write a check that he never got the chance to finish signing. Investigators were left with more questions than answers. A missing revolver, a name on a check no one could trace, and a household already tangled in rumor and tension. What followed was a shifting investigation, a contested admission, and a trial that forced a small New England city to confront issues of race, reputation, and reasonable doubt. I'm Kylie Lowe and this is the murder of Abraham Levine and the trial of Eleanor Johnson on Dark Down East. It was just after 11 p.m. on Saturday night, September 26, 1931,

when 38-year-old Eleanor Johnson pulled up to the Levine family cattle farm on the Sydney Road in Waterville, Maine, with her neighbor, Herbert Hart. According to reporting by the Portland Press Herald, Eleanor worked as a housekeeper and household manager for the Levine family, who operated a successful cattle-dealing business from the property. The neighbor Herbert was a tailor, so before he dropped Eleanor off and headed two houses down to his own home, Eleanor asked him to come inside for a minute. She had a dress and a coat that needed repairing and wanted to hand them off before the night was over. As she walked down the hallway towards the bedrooms, she was stopped in her tracks.

She screamed and called for Herbert to come quickly. There was a person lying lifeless on the floor. At first, neither of them were sure who the person was. Eleanor asked if it was Aby, short for Abraham, one of the Levine brothers, but he couldn't be sure. Eleanor asked what she should do. Herbert told her to call the police. At 11.20 p.m. Eleanor phoned police headquarters. She told them there was an accident about two miles down the Sydney Road and then she hung up.

That report of an accident created confusion for responding officers. The Waterville Police Chief, the captain and another officer drove several miles down the Sydney road that night, searching for a crash scene. When they found nothing, they turned back towards headquarters. With no police in sight and panic mounting, Eleanor and Herbert got back into Herbert's car and drove into the city themselves to find 22-year-old Merton Levine, another of the Levine brothers.

They notified police again, while in town, this time with clearer details about what they had found at the farmhouse. Merton, Eleanor, and Herbert arrived at the house before police did. Merton turned the body over to discover the lifeless person was in fact his younger brother, 19-year-old Abraham Levine. Abraham had been face down near his roll-top desk, a pen still clutched in his hand.

He was the victim of multiple gunshot wounds. Medical examiner Dr. John G. Town removed four bullets from Abraham's body during the autopsy. He suffered two shots to the head, one behind the left ear, and two to the body, one of them mere inches from his heart. All four shots were fired at extreme. extremely close range. There were powder burns on his skin and singed hair at the entry sights on his head. Authorities believed the murder weapon to be a 32-caliber revolver, but whoever shot

Abraham took the firearm with them, it wasn't anywhere at the scene. There were no clear signs of a struggle in the room around Abraham. On the desk, police found a check made out for $10 to a Leland Gray. Abraham's signature was unfinished, trailing on. after A-B-R-A-H-A with the pen line dragging sharply across the page before he could sign the letter M. In the memo line, someone had written for Mrs. Johnson's cash. The corresponding stub for that check was nowhere to be found. Robbery was quickly dismissed as a motive. A lot of cash and some other checks were still on Abraham's person. Here we had a young man seated at his desk, mid-signature, shot four times at close range with no struggle, no weapon, and a name on a check

that no one could immediately identify. Investigators had a tall task in front of them. But before the Levine home ever became a crime scene, it was the center of a working farm, a family business, and a household with complicated dynamics long before a single shot was fired. The Levine family was well known in the Waterville area. for its cattle-dealing business. According to reporting by the Sun Journal, at the time Abraham was shot, their mother was a patient at the Augusta State Hospital,

and the Levine Patriarch, Louis Levine, was out of state. He had reportedly traveled to Nevada seeking a divorce, a type of divorce not permitted under Maine law at the time. He'd been gone for at least six weeks, leaving Abraham and his brothers in charge of the farm and the business. Abraham handled the bookkeeping, the accounts, and the day-to-day management of livestock transactions, but he wasn't the only person left in charge while his father was away. Manning much of the other essential logistics of the Levine family life was Eleanor Johnson.

Eleanor Johnson had worked at the Levine home and farm for about two years before the murder. Her life in Maine, however, began long before that job. She was born in Maryland, later moved to Philadelphia. and attended school for four years before financial necessity forced her to leave and begin working to support her family. Eleanor told the Morning Sentinel that in 1913 she came to Maine to work as a housekeeper for a family in Waterville, where she remained until 1916. After that, she took another farm position in town, then moved to Oakland, Maine, where she worked for 13 years until the patriarch of that household passed away. From there, she moved between positions and even left the same.

estate for a time with a main family, returning a few months later, and it was after that return that she met Louis Levine, who offered her a position at his farm. Eleanor initially declined the job. After touring the property and seeing the size of the house and barns, she believed the workload would be overwhelming for one person, but Lewis assured her he would make it manageable. They negotiated a wage of $12 per week, and she began work there in July of 1929. Despite Lewis's promises, the job quickly became far more than housekeeping. She was responsible for hiring farmhands, overseeing renovations and repairs to buildings,

handling shopping and cooking, and directing household operations in the absence of the men who were often away for long periods of time. Eleanor recalled that Louis Levine told her he wanted her to feel like part of the family. If the boys went to the movies, a picture show, as it would have been called, called, they took her with them. If they went for ice cream, she went too. Eleanor said that Lewis told her he didn't want her to feel beneath them because she was a black woman. But that dynamic didn't last. She later said that people in town began whispering about her relationships with members of the Levine family. Some people made comments directly, expressing judgment about a black woman working so

closely with a Jewish family and spending time with a young Jewish man, appearing with them in public. Over time, members of the Levine family became less willing to be seen with her out and about in town. The morning after Abraham was found dead, Eleanor was brought in by police in question for several hours. Her account of that Saturday night was detailed and at least on paper, fairly clean. She said she had dinner at the farm that evening with Abraham, his brother, 16-year-old Samuel Levine, and a farmhand. She told police that around 7.45 p.m. Abraham left the house after being picked up by someone. She claimed that was the last time she saw him alive.

Eleanor explained that she called a cab around 8 p.m. and went into town herself to see a movie at the Haynes Theater. Now, the cab driver remembered the call being closer to 9 p.m. But the movie ticket stub placed her at or near the theater around 8.15. p.m., so it's possible the cab driver was mistaken. And plus, Eleanor could describe scenes from the film and theater attendants remembered seeing her. After the movie, she said she went to find Merton Levine at the local dance hall to ask for a ride home, but he wasn't ready to leave. He told her to ask their neighbor, Herbert Hart, instead. Eleanor said she found Herbert at a shop down the

street, and the two left together about 30 minutes later. They arrived at the farm together, and that's when they found Abraham. At that stage, police considered it a solid alibi and so she was released. Still, Eleanor retained an attorney, a man named James Al Boyle. Police also questioned 22-year-old Merton Levine. By then, rumors had reached police that the relationship between Merton and Eleanor was more than employer-employee. Martin didn't hide it when police started down that line of questioning.

Merton admitted that he had a friendship with Eleanor and then later clarified that the relationship was intimate, but it had since cooled off after friends and people in town started making comments. He told police that Abraham had also warned him to stay away from Eleanor. He said that tensions only worsened about five weeks earlier after Abraham fired Eleanor's son who had also worked at the farm. Merton laid out his timeline for the day and night of September 26, 1931. Merton placed himself all over town and anywhere but the family farm.

He said he went to the movies at the Haynes around 6.30 and then he picked up a truck that had been repaired. After that, he picked up a friend and drove him home. Then he went to the family meat market in town. As reported by E.D. Talberth for the Morning Sentinel, Merton said he had dinner at Harmon's lunch cart just after 7 p.m. before going to Whitcomb's market and chatting with employees there. He returned to the meat market after that and called home around 7.20 or 7.30 p.m. Merton said he spoke to Abraham, who told him he planned to go into town with a friend later that night. Just before 8 p.m., Merton went to the bank and spoke with several people there, and he also stopped to talk to a young woman in her car. Then he was back to the meat market again.

Merton said he called home once more around 8.40 p.m. But that time, no one answered. Merton said he left the meat market for good around 10.45 p.m. He stopped at the Puritan sweet shop and went to the Castle Garden's Dance Hall where he stayed until Herbert Hart arrived with news that something had happened back at the farm. As police worked through Eleanor's alibi and Merton's timeline trying to piece together the who and the what and the why of the murderer. They were also chasing down a name written in ink on the unfinished check found on Abraham's desk, Leeland Gray.

According to the Evening Express, several men with that name voluntarily came forward and were quickly ruled out. None had any connection to the Levine family, none had any business dealings that would explain a $10 check, and with each dead end, the possibility grew that Leland Gray might not exist at all. A Boston handwriting expert named Wilbur F. Turner examined the check itself. He concluded that there were two distinct handwritings on it. The memo line which read for Mrs. Johnson's cash appeared to have been written by a right-handed person, but Abraham was left-handed. That detail changes the tone of the entire crime scene.

If someone else wrote part of that check, the natural question becomes whether the check was staged. And if it was staged, staged for whom? Was someone trying to point suspicion directly at Eleanor? At the same time, town gossip was moving faster than police reports. Some people believed the killing was revenge. Abraham reportedly had luck with the ladies, and rumor suggested he may have angered a father, a husband, or a boyfriend,

while others pointed to trouble both Abraham and Martin had reportedly encountered in town. An associated press report in the Kennebec Journal claims that a few weeks earlier, someone had poured acid on their car at a dance. On another occasion, iodine had been dumped into their gas tank ruining the engine. That history made it easier for some to imagine an external enemy. Police also investigated talk of quote-unquote whoopee parties at the farm. In 1931, that phrase was a slang term that typically implied a lively late-night gathering. where drinking and dancing and possibly sexual behavior outside accepted norms were involved? It did not necessarily mean criminal activity, but it suggested something rowdy or improper or

morally suspect, especially in small-town America during prohibition. With those reports coming in, police began questioning friends of the Levine brothers to see whether any of those parties hinted at a motive. But nothing concrete came of it. Meanwhile, investigators tried to tighten the timeline of the murder on a scientific level. Abraham's stomach contents were analyzed in an effort to narrow the time of death. The findings were published by the Associated Press via the Lewiston Daily Sun newspaper. Based on digestion and other factors, the state chemist estimated that Abraham was shot around 9.15 p.m. That placed the killing squarely within the wind.

when Eleanor claimed she was at the Haynes Theater and when Merton's movements were scattered across town. The investigation was running into a wall over and over again. But then, a piece of physical evidence retrained the lens on a potential suspect. An unfired 32-caliber cartridge, the same caliber as the bullets removed from Abraham's body, was found in a box of magazines in the attic of the farmhouse. The magazines were addressed to Eleanor. Eleanor denied knowing anything about it and said if there was a cartridge in there, then it had been planted.

And maybe it was. The cartridge was not discovered during the first or second search of the attic. It did not appear until the third search. The house had not been secured in the modern sense or standards of crime scenes. After Abraham's body was removed, the property was totally excessive. townspeople reportedly wandered through to see the scene as if it were a new tourist attraction. The space wasn't locked down the way we would expect it to be today. So while the cartridge was suspicious, the possibility that it could have been planted was never entirely ruled out.

As if that weren't enough to complicate the investigation, anonymous letters started showing up. The Evening Express reports that Merton Levine received a letter that read, quote, made a mistake, got your brother, but will get you for the wrong you did my sister." The letter included a roughly drawn skull and crossbones and was signed with the initials, M.C. Merton reportedly did not take it seriously and even investigators suspected a hoax, but then Roy Adams, a friend of the Levines and a local golf pro, also received a bizarre letter. It said simply, you are next. It was also signed with the initials MC. Police attempted to trace the letters,

but there's no clear indication the author was ever identified. Both local and state investigators were under intense pressure to make something happen in the case, and they ran down every investigative avenue possible. They even exhumed a dog previously shot and buried on the Levine farm to retrieve bullets for ballistic comparison. That effort proved the bullets were actually the same caliber as those taken from Abraham's body, but it didn't translate to a major breakthrough in the case. The gun used to shoot the dog was traced to a former farmhand, Arthur Laney, who had given it to his brother out of state months before the murder, and so that specific weapon was not believed to be the one used in Abraham's killing. Another lead closed. By early December of 1931,

the investigation had stretched thin. Police had chased handwriting discrepancies, anonymous letters, town rumors of romantic grudges, cartridges and attics, and even bullets from an exhumed dog. They still didn't have the murder weapon. And in a case built almost entirely on circumstantial threads, that missing revolver mattered.

After more than two months of fruitless searching, turning the house inside out, draining wells on the Levine property, checking ponds, and waterways around town, investigators were alerted to a discovery elsewhere in town. A 32-caliber Ivor Johnson revolver was found in the filth of the Gilman Street dump in Waterville. Two men had been rummaging for old tires when they came across the firearm and notified police.

When officers examined it, four of the five chambers were empty. A single, live, 32-caliber Smith-N-Wesson cartridge remained in the cylinder. It was the very same caliber as the bullets that had killed Abraham. What's more, a firearms expert who had already examined the bullets removed from Abraham's body determined that the revolver found in the dump was identical in model and caliber to the firearm used in the murder. After two months of chasing theory and rumor and fragile alibis, investigators finally had something tangible in the form of a gun pulled from trash, four spent chambers matching the caliber of the fatal shots.

Almost immediately, the direction of the case began to shift. Investigators managed to trace the revolver found at the dump back to Portland, where it had been sold to a man named Samuel Morrison. When confronted with the gun by police, Morrison admitted that he purchased the revolver on behalf of Eleanor Johnson. According to Morrison, she stood outside while he went inside to make sense. the purchase. According to an AP report via the Biddeford-Socco journal, Eleanor had been questioned by police nearly every single day of the investigation. But this time, with the gun

filed as evidence in Abraham's murder, Eleanor revealed that she had, in fact, bought the gun, using money given to her by Merton Levine. Officers later said that Eleanor told them she was in love with Merton, and this was reportedly an issue for Abraham. She claimed that Merton had told her he would kill Abraham before letting his brother interfere with their relationship. Eleanor went further in her statement to police, allegedly telling authorities that after the shooting, Merton exclaimed, why did I do it?

If her account was true, the case was no longer a mystery. It was a crime of retaliation, carried out by a brother with a revolver Eleanor helped him obtain. On December 11, 1931, 11 weeks after Abraham was murdered, local and state police announced the arrests of Merton Levine and Eleanor Johnson on charges of murder. Interestingly, Samuel Morrison and another individual were also charged as accessories to the murder for their alleged involvement in the purchase of the revolver and knowledge surrounding it.

Those charges, however, did not hold and were later drawn. At the preliminary hearing on December 22nd and 23rd, 1931, Judge Charles W. Aitchley found probable cause against both Eleanor and Merton. The cases appeared headed towards a joint prosecution. At that hearing, Eleanor gave sworn testimony that she had purchased the gun at Merton's request with money he provided. But Merton called the accusation a frame-up. He admitted the intimate relationship with Eleanor, but denied that it had anything to do with Abraham's death. The case moved to the grand jury in February of 1932. After four days of deliberation, the grand jury returned an indictment, but only against Eleanor. Merton was released

when the grand jury declined to charge him. With that, the prosecution theory had shifted in a fundamental way. What had begun as a conspiracy between a brother and a housekeeper was now a single defendant case. The alleged instigator and the alleged shooter were no longer both on trial. Eleanor stood alone, firmly professing her innocence. If the arrest had given the case clarity, the grand jury's decision had complicated it again, and from that point forward, everything would hinge on what could actually be proven in open court. The trial of Eleanor Johnson opened in late February of 1932. With Merton freed, the state's case rested entirely on convincing the jury that Eleanor and Eleanor alone had stood behind Abraham and fired four close-range shots. Where the early

investigation had all but ruled Eleanor out, the investigation later on had refined a timeline that better fit Eleanor as the sole killer. Attorney General Clement Robinson told the jury that Evidence and circumstances pointed to one conclusion. It was Eleanor. He alleged that it was Eleanor, who stood at Abraham's side as he started to write a check for $10 to a fictitious person, giving her the time in proximity to commit the murder. Robinson laid out for the jury how the check stub was missing, but not the check itself, which showed Eleanor's name on the memo line. By the start of the trial, the estimated time of death had readjusted to between eight and eight 30 p.m., significantly different from what the chemist had estimated based on Abraham's stomach

contents, which was 9.15 p.m. Side note, the evidence to support this change is difficult to track, but it was likely based on witness accounts and assumed timelines, like the telephone calls that were answered and unanswered by Abraham at home throughout the night. Either way, that 8 to 8.30 p.m. time of death left open the possibility that Eleanor wasn't yet at the movies and therefore would have been home if even for a few minutes to pull the trigger. Family testimony sharpened the suspicion. Louis Levine had publicly accused her. One of the older Levine's sons claimed he didn't like living at home because Eleanor had a temper. He alleged she had threatened their lives and had even tried to poison them. Despite these claims though, the Levines had kept her employed because of her

quote-unquote efficiency. The alleged attempted poisoning and threats were never proven. The state ballistic expert testified that the bullets removed from Abraham's body were consistent with the revolver found at the Gilman Street dump. That revolver was the prosecution's physical anchor, but how did the presumed murder revolver get to the dump? Well, a witness claimed she saw Eleanor near there on the night Abraham was shot. A woman testified that on the night Abraham was killed, she encountered Eleanor near Gilman Street, in the vicinity of the dump where the revolver was later discovered.

The witness explained that she had run out of gasoline near the dump and walked to a nearby filling station. On her return, shortly before 8.30 p.m., she said she saw and spoke to Eleanor on Center Street near the road leading toward the dump. But this testimony wasn't altogether damning. The witness claimed to only see Eleanor near the dump, not at it, and she didn't claim to see Eleanor carrying or disposing of a firearm.

It was another piece of the circumstantial puzzle. The state's summary of the case was simple. Eleanor had motive, supposedly wanting Abraham out of her relationship with Merton. She had the opportunity being one of the last people at the house with him that night. The Attorney General said Eleanor had access to the weapon, and a witness claimed she had also been near the place where it was discarded. But even with all of that, it was hard to challenge Eleanor's defense. She had an alibi, with receipts to prove it. A witness named Bertha testified that Eleanor sat beside her at the Haynes Theater in Waterville on the night of September 26, 1931.

According to an AP report covering the trial published in the commercial, Bertha explained that her young daughter kept looking at Eleanor instead of watching the film, which fixed the moment in her memory. She testified that Eleanor remained seated beside her during the showing and was present in the theater during the time the state alleged the shooting occurred. A cashier at the Haynes Theater only further corroborated Eleanor's alibi. The cashier testified that she recalled selling a ticket to a woman with the name John that night. Theater records showed that Eleanor's ticket was the 45th sold for the motion picture

that evening, and the serial number of the ticket indicated it was issued between approximately 8 and 9 p.m. Taken together, the theater witnesses constructed a continuous timeline, placing Eleanor away from the Sydney Road farm at the approximate time Abraham was killed. And then the defense attacked the state's strongest physical evidence. In total contrast, to the state's expert testimony, the defense ballistic expert Wilbur F. Turner testified that the fired shell casings in the case did not match the revolver found in the dump. He stated that firing pin and breach block marks were inconsistent. Apparently, the state's forensic link between Eleanor and the weapon wasn't as rock-solid as it was first represented.

Not only that, but the defense called into question the timing of it all. How is it possible a gun was at the dump for over two months before it was discovered by civilians when law enforcement had been diligently searching all over town? They seemed to suggest that it, too, could have been planted. Eleanor Johnson herself took the stand to testify in her own defense. She denied the allegations that she'd ever threatened Abraham. She characterized her role as maternal, referring to herself as mother and nurse for the Levine family. She said she purchased clothing and household items for the boys, even nursed Abraham when he was ill, prepared special meals, and stayed up nights caring for him. She acknowledged that she had been intimate with

Martin Levine, but did not portray the relationship as volatile or dangerous. She denied that retaliation or romantic conflict would have motivated her to take Abraham's life. She explicitly rejected allegations that she harbored hostility toward him for any reason. Even still, Eleanor acknowledged that a revolver had been purchased in Portland and that she was connected to the purchase. But she insisted that the gun was bought at Merton's request with money he provided and that after returning from Portland she gave the revolver to him. She denied ever using the revolver herself and said she hadn't even seen it after giving it to Merton. Throughout her testimony, Eleanor

remained composed. Observers described her as confident and steady. In closing arguments, defense attorney James L. Boyle narrowed the case to one central idea. The state had not proven that Eleanor Johnson fired the gun. He emphasized that the prosecution's entire case was circumstantial. There were no eyewitnesses. No confession entered into evidence that withstood cross-examination. No direct proof that Eleanor had been inside the house when the shopperienced.

were fired. Multiple witnesses placed Eleanor at the Haynes Theater during the time the state alleged Abraham was killed. The theater ticket record corroborating witnesses and her own testimony formed what he framed as an airtight timeline that removed her from the scene. Then there was the conflicting ballistic evidence. Boyle argued that when experts disagree and the physical evidence is uncertain, that uncertainty must benefit the accused. He also dismantled the motive. Yes, Eleanor and Merton were involved. Yes, there had been household tension. But Boyle argued that nothing presented in court proved those tensions rose to murder. He reminded the jury that the prosecution's earlier theory had accused Merton as the shooter, a theory abandoned when the grand jury

freed him. Now the state was asking the jury to accept a completely different narrative. without stronger evidence. He argued that evidence could have been planted, especially given that the farmhouse had not been secured and had been accessible to townspeople after the body was removed. He suggested the check referencing Mrs. Johnson's cash could have been staged to implicate her. Boyle urged the jury to focus on one principle.

Reasonable doubt. If the state could not prove beyond doubt that Eleanor was present at the scene, and fired those shots, the law required acquittal. The defense attorney closed his argument reminding the jury that they could not base their verdict on Eleanor's race. The jury deliberated for approximately three hours and 15 minutes. According to reporting in the Lewiston Daily Sun,

the first ballot was 10 to 2 for conviction. One of the two holdouts was the lone woman on the panel who reportedly maintained from the outset that Eleanor was innocent. But finally, and rather quickly, considering the case, the jury returned with a unanimous verdict. Not guilty. The courtroom erupted in applause and cheering. And then Eleanor turned and asked her attorney quietly, quote, can we go home now?

End quote. After the jury returned its not guilty verdict in the early hours of February 28, 1932, Eleanor stepped back into a community that had just spent months debating her guilt. She did not disappear quietly, but rather remained in Waterville for a time and publicly stated she would face those who still believed her guilty. In the months that followed, she fought to repair the damage done to her name. She brought a $20,000 libel suit against the Portland Maine Publishing Company for falsely reporting that she had a prior criminal record in Cumberland County.

The Portland Press Herald later admitted its report was a case of mistaken identity and that the accusations were absolutely unfounded. The case was settled out of court, though the amount was not disclosed. Eventually, Eleanor left Maine and moved to Westchester County, New York, where she worked for many years in the homes of lawyers and executives. She became known as firm, independent, and deeply religious. Eleanor later married Charles Robinson and built a life outside the shadow of the tribe, She remained closely connected to her family in Maine, including her son, making annual bus trips north well into her 80s.

In 1977, 45 years after her acquittal and at 84 years old, Eleanor returned to Waterville and visited the man who had defended her, Attorney James Al Boyle. In interviews conducted during that visit by Jean L. Laterno for the Morning Sentinel, she spoke candidly about the experience, saying she hadn't done anything wrong. quote, I never hurt anybody. If I had been a white woman, I never would have been put through that ordeal, end quote. She described the fear she felt while in custody, particularly as a black woman accused of killing a white man in 1931 Maine. Eleanor said she chose to remain in jail prior to trial despite the opportunity for bail, believing it was safer than being released into a hostile public environment. During that time, she held prayer services for fellow inmates

and relied heavily on her faith to endure the uncertainty of the proceedings. Looking back, she expressed no open bitterness towards prosecutors or investigators, but she was clear-eyed about how race shaped the way she was treated and perceived. The ordeal she suggested was not merely about evidence, it was about who she was at that moment in history. Darla L. Pickett reports for the Morning Sentinel that in 2003, at age 109, Eleanor was recognized as the oldest resident in Scowhegan, Maine, a town just outside of Waterville, and was presented with the Boston Post Cain.

The Boston Post Cain, by the way, was a ceremonial walking cane awarded to the oldest living resident of a New England town. The tradition began in 1909 when the Boston Post newspaper distributed canes to communities across the region with instructions that they be presented to the town's oldest citizen. Over time, McCain became a symbolic recognition of longevity and local heritage, passed from one elder to the next. Even at triple digits, Eleanor was described as sharp, independent, and remarkably healthy for her age. She lived long enough to see nearly three-quarters of a century pass between the night she was arrested and the end of her life. Eleanor Johnson Robinson died peacefully on November 16th, 2004 at the age of 110. By then, the murder trial had become one long ago chapter in a life

that far outlasted the accusation that once threatened to define it. The murder of Abraham Levine remained unsolved throughout Eleanor's lifetime. As of the one-year anniversary of his death in 1932, the investigation was reportedly continuing, but it did not lead to any new breakthroughs or arrests. A 1936 article referenced the case as still unresolved. By 1939, it was described as the only unsolved murder in Waterville's recorded history, and that's where it has stayed for nearly 100 years.

Martin Levine, who had once stood accused of killing his brother, remained in Waterbill. In 1934, he was, was badly injured after being gored by a bull on the farm, though he ultimately recovered. After his father Lewis died in 1957, Merton took over the property and continued operating it for years. Over time, however, the farm and its building suffered a series of fires. The farm stand burned, the slaughterhouse and barn were destroyed. The physical footprint of the Levine operation gradually disappeared. Within a few years of those losses, Merton and his wife relocated to mass

The Sydney Road Cattle Farm remained in the Levine family's hands for decades, but by the 1970s after Merton's move, the property found a new life. A 1977 article by John Batchel in the Morning Sentinel describes plans to develop what was then referred to as the former Merton Levine Farm into a large apartment complex across from Thomas College on what is now called West River Road. More than 100 apartment units were proposed, marking a dramatic shift from agricultural land to residential development. Today, the farmhouse, the slaughterhouse, the barns, and much of the fields are gone. The physical setting of the crime has disappeared into suburban redevelopment, but the unanswered questions remain. Who was Leland Gray, the name on the unfinished check Abraham was writing when he was gunned down? No one ever established the identity of the man written on that $10 check. Was the check planted to implicate Eleanor, or was it simply unfinished business later interpreted

as something more? But the biggest question of all is this. If Eleanor did not pull the trigger and a jury of her peers decided she did not, then who did? The prosecution's early theory was that Merton shot his brother with a revolver Eleanor held him acquire, yet the grand jury declined to. indict him. At trial, the state pivoted and argued Eleanor acted alone. That theory collapsed under alibi testimony and forensic dispute. We are left with a crime that had opportunity but no witness, motive but no certainty, physical evidence in the form of a revolver found at a dump that

may or may not have been the murder weapon, but no uncontested interpretation. There were rumors of revenge, rumors of jealous rivals, threat letters signed MC that were never traced, a cartridge found in an attic after multiple searches in a house that had not been secured. Abraham Levine was shot four times at close range while sitting at his desk, writing a check. That much is certain. Everything else depends on how much weight you give to circumstantial threads and how much doubt you believe remains. The farm is gone, the buildings are gone, the land has changed. But the question that began on September 26th, 1931, still. lingers. Who killed Abraham Levine? And why? Thank you for listening to Dark Down East. You can find

all source material for this case at Darkdowneast.com. Be sure to follow the show on Instagram at Darkdowneast. This platform is for the families and friends who have lost their loved ones and for those who are still searching for answers. I'm not about to let those names or their stories get lost with time. I'm Kylie Lowe, and this is Dark Down East. Dark Down East is a production of Kylie Media and Audio Check. I think Chuck would approve.