by Jeff Guinn
• • •
Danny DeCarlo came to Parker Center and met with the LaBianca team on November 13. Though he was willing to talk about the weird lifestyle of Charlie Manson and his followers, DeCarlo said that Charlie had never said anything to him about the Tate or LaBianca killings. The investigators told DeCarlo to come back on Monday the 17th, when they’d interview him on tape and at length.
At the Corona prison, Virginia Graham decided to tell someone about what she’d heard from Susan Atkins. She asked to speak to Vera Dreiser, a prison psychologist she knew from elsewhere and trusted. She was instructed to fill out a request form. When she did, Virginia was directed to meet with a different psychologist who was assigned to her specific prison unit. Virginia protested that she wanted to talk to Dr. Dreiser and no one else. Permission was granted, but Virginia was informed that the meeting couldn’t take place for several weeks.
• • •
Bobby Beausoleil went on trial for the murder of Gary Hinman on Friday, November 14. There was considerable evidence against him, but the prosecution lacked a definitive witness who either saw Beausoleil kill Hinman or at least heard him confess to the crime. Investigators found Beausoleil’s palm print and fingerprint at Hinman’s house, he’d been apprehended in Hinman’s car, and the murder weapon, caked with Hinman’s blood, was found in a wheel well. Susan Atkins told county investigators Whiteley and Guenther that she believed she’d heard Beausoleil kill Hinman in another room from where she was, but that still didn’t constitute eyewitness testimony to the actual stabbing.
• • •
On Saturday, one of the largest antiwar demonstrations in American history was held in Washington. One quarter of a million protesters marched in the street, and when darkness fell they staged a candlelight vigil. Informed of the vigil by his advisors in the White House, President Nixon had a thought: Why not have Army helicopters hover overhead so that their propellers would blow out the protesters’ candles? He was talked out of it.
Danny DeCarlo didn’t show for his 8:30 A.M. meeting with the LaBianca team on Monday, November 17. But that morning Ronnie Howard was taken by bus to a court hearing in Santa Monica, and the women being transported there were allowed to use a pay phone while they waited for the bus to arrive. A line to the phone formed quickly—everyone wanted to make calls. But Ronnie bribed the women in front with 50 cents each to let her go first. She called the Beverly Hills Division of the LAPD and told the officer who answered that she knew the identities of the Tate and LaBianca killers. Calls making that claim came in all the time. Ronnie was told that the Hollywood Division was handling those cases—call there. Even though the women waiting for the bus were limited to one call each, Ronnie stood her ground at the phone and called the Hollywood cops. The officer she talked to there was much more interested. Ronnie identified herself and repeated her message: She knew who killed Tate and the LaBiancas. The Hollywood cop said he’d send someone to talk to her right away, but Ronnie said she had to go into court. She forgot to say which court before she hung up, but the officer had her name and did some checking.
Ronnie waited all day for her case to be called before the judge, and wondered as she waited if the Hollywood cops were really coming to the Santa Monica court to talk to her. But they didn’t, and after her hearing she was marched back onto the bus and returned to Sybil Brand.
• • •
Danny DeCarlo finally arrived at Parker Center at 5 P.M. on November 17. He explained that on the way there that morning he’d been stopped for an illegal turn, and since he had several outstanding traffic tickets he’d been arrested. As soon as he was released, DeCarlo rushed over to keep the appointment.
Closed in an interview room with three detectives and a tape recorder running, DeCarlo talked about Manson and his followers, starting with a detailed description of his experiences with them over about five months. He assured the police that he was the best source they could possibly find—he’d practically been a full-fledged member of the Family. They were gratified to get background information, but after a while they pushed DeCarlo: What did he know about any murders? DeCarlo had plenty to say about those, too. Yes, Bobby Beausoleil killed Gary Hinman—DeCarlo had this straight from Beausoleil himself. And there were other people involved besides Beausoleil and Susan Atkins. Mary Brunner was there, and Bruce Davis was involved, and of course Charlie was behind the whole thing. It was Charlie who cut off Hinman’s ear with a Straight Satans sword, the one the bikers took back from Charlie at Spahn Ranch on August 15. The Satans were so pissed off with Charlie that they broke the sword in half. DeCarlo said that he’d brought the halves to Parker, and now he gave them to the detectives. Then he continued his narrative. On the night of the Hinman murder, DeCarlo said, Charlie told Beausoleil on the phone to go ahead and finish Hinman off. Beausoleil and the girls were following Charlie’s orders when they killed Hinman, and also when they wrote something like “kill the piggies” on a wall in blood to make it look like a murder by the Black Panthers. Then DeCarlo talked about the .22 Buntline, how Charlie used it to kill some Black Panther when a drug deal went bad. The cops urged him to go on, and asked if he knew anything about Shorty Shea. DeCarlo said that he did, and volunteered that he was sure Charlie “did Tate.” He wanted some assurance that if he told them anything more, they’d get him out of his outstanding charges. The officers promised DeCarlo that if he continued to cooperate, if what he told them checked out, then they’d be with him “a hundred percent . . . so that you don’t have to go to the joint.”
DeCarlo kept talking.
• • •
Two LAPD detectives went to Sybil Brand and asked to speak to Ronnie Howard. They were set up with her in a small room and Ronnie told them everything she’d heard from Susan Atkins, and also what Virginia Graham had said that Susan told her. The officers believed every word, especially since Susan had provided details (like losing her buck knife at Cielo) to Ronnie that were not public knowledge. They arranged to have Ronnie moved to an isolation unit, then they rushed back to Parker Center to announce that they had cracked the Tate case.
• • •
Danny DeCarlo had just finished telling about Shorty Shea’s murder, how Charlie had him all sliced up because he didn’t like snitches, when his interrogation was interrupted by the detectives who’d just interviewed Ronnie Howard at Sybil Brand. After a break of almost an hour, the questioning of DeCarlo resumed, but now there was one specific focus—what did he know about the murder of Sharon Tate? He knew a lot, starting with Clem telling him they’d got “five piggies,” and how, around the night of August 8 or 9, some of the Family—Danny thought it might have been Charlie, Tex, and Clem—went out and did it. According to Ronnie Howard, Susan Atkins had claimed that she helped in the Tate murders along with two other girls named Katie and Linda. DeCarlo said he knew a girl called Katie, but the cops needed to remember that nobody in the Family ever went by their real names. So he knew a Katie and also a Linda, but when the detectives asked, DeCarlo said he’d never met a Family member called Charles Montgomery. DeCarlo did know the car the killers had used to get to Cielo, a ’59 Ford belonging to Spahn ranch hand Johnny Swartz.
In all, DeCarlo talked for seven hours. Toward the end he mentioned the $25,000 reward offered by Roman Polanski and said he thought he ought to get a piece of that. The cops made a mistake by telling him about Zero’s death. DeCarlo was certain it was murder, not suicide, and after hearing about it, he told the police that he didn’t want to testify publicly against Charlie or anybody in the Family because it was too dangerous. He was willing to testify against Beausoleil, though, in exchange for having the charges that were pending against him dropped. Beausoleil’s attorney strongly opposed the prosecution bringing in a new witness after the trial had already begun, but DeCarlo’s testimony was allowed by the judge.
• • •
The next afternoon, Aaron Stovitz, head of the Trials Division of the City of Los Angeles District Attorne
y’s Office, and Vincent Bugliosi, an up-and-comer among several hundred L.A. deputy district attorneys, were informed by their boss that they would serve as prosecutors in the Tate and LaBianca murder trials that now seemed forthcoming. Stovitz and Bugliosi were briefed on the latest developments, including the interrogations of Ronnie Howard and Danny DeCarlo.
As the junior member of the two-man team, it was Bugliosi’s job to work with the Tate and LaBianca squads and follow up on all the new information. The thirty-five-year-old deputy DA was enthusiastic, as he always was when working on a case. Everyone in the massive deputy DA pool was ambitious, but none more so than Bugliosi, whose won-loss record in 104 felony jury trials was 103-1. He had a reputation among many of his peers as a shameless self-promoter, and they all enjoyed getting under his thin skin by deliberately mispronouncing his last name as “BUG-lee-osi” rather than the correct “BOO-lee-osi.” Sometimes they really enraged him by calling him Buggy or Bugsy. But friends and rivals agreed that no one in the District Attorney’s Office worked harder or was more thorough in his trial preparation. Bugliosi was pleased to get the Tate-LaBianca assignment; it was the kind of high-profile trial that, if prosecuted successfully, could make a young deputy D.A.’s career.
• • •
Bugliosi began by accompanying a team of investigators to Spahn Ranch. Danny DeCarlo came with them, but he insisted on being in handcuffs to give the impression that he was being forced to cooperate. George Spahn granted permission for a search of the property. Dozens of odd-looking people prowled the ranch, most of them young. DeCarlo led the cops to spots where he said Manson and the Family liked to take target practice with the .22 Buntline—Bugliosi wanted to match shell casings and slug fragments with those found at Cielo. They eventually gathered sixty-eight slugs, whole or parts, and twenty-two casings. (A second ranch trip five months later yielded twenty-three additional .22 caliber shell casings.)
Back at Parker Center after his initial Spahn Ranch visit, Bugliosi learned that Susan Atkins would be offered some kind of deal in return for her testimony against Charlie and the other participants in the Tate and LaBianca murders. Bugliosi argued against it—according to Ronnie Howard, Susan had admitted stabbing Gary Hinman and Sharon Tate. They were just starting to put together their case against her. Why offer immunity immediately when, if they just gave him some time, he might deliver an airtight case against all of them? Bugliosi was told that Chief Davis wanted the case rushed to the grand jury; the public was impatient and the LAPD looked worse every day that they didn’t announce they’d solved the Tate murder. Susan Atkins would be offered a deal, and very soon. They’d figure out the details of it when the time came.
Next, Bugliosi and five members of the Tate and LaBianca squads drove to Inyo County. With the help of county district attorney Frank Fowles, they interviewed the officers involved in the Barker Ranch raids and inspected the collected evidence. Many items were sent back to L.A. for lab analysis. Bugliosi talked to Squeaky and Sandy, who offered convoluted explanations of how Charlie Manson was “love, you can’t define it.” As they talked, Bugliosi decided that they were “retarded at a certain stage in their childhood. . . . little girls, playing little-girl games.” He interviewed all five female Family members still in Inyo County custody—Leslie, Gypsy, Ruth Ann, Dianne Lake, and Nancy Pitman. None of them offered any useful information. Clem and Charlie were the Family men remaining in the county lockup. DA Fowles told Bugliosi that Clem had a lawyer who had insisted his client be examined by two psychiatrists—they’d determined that Clem was “presently insane.” At Bugliosi’s request, Fowles agreed to stall any actions involving Clem. That left Charlie.
Bugliosi watched that afternoon as Charlie pleaded not guilty to arson charges in an Inyo County court. He was struck by how at ease Charlie seemed, even in handcuffs. It was as though he didn’t have a care in the world. The judge set Charlie’s bail at $25,000. The Tate and LaBianca cases were still being built against Charlie; Bugliosi wasn’t ready to arrest him yet, but he didn’t want to risk some friend of the Family putting up Charlie’s Inyo County bail and giving him the opportunity to disappear. He asked Fowles to call him if anyone offered to put up the $25,000. If that happened, whether he felt ready or not Bugliosi would file murder charges against Charlie. Even if nobody put up Charlie’s bail, it was still uncertain whether he could be proven guilty of arson. At any time a county judge might dismiss the charges and set Charlie free. The L.A. prosecutors were racing the clock.
Charlie knew what was going on. Some Family members had been idling at Spahn Ranch when the LAPD investigators went there to check for .22 slugs and shell casings. Bugliosi’s arrival in Inyo County and the questions he’d asked made it certain that the LAPD was after the Family for Tate and LaBianca. Squeaky and Sandy were reliable messengers, bringing Charlie information and passing along his instructions. Susan was in Sybil Brand, which was bad. Charlie didn’t know where Tex and Pat were. He needed to find out. Linda had of course run off right after the murders. Leslie was holding strong in the Independence jail. She was right under Charlie’s thumb there. Potential weak link Zero was dead. Charlie might still be all right. The main thing was, nobody should admit anything, just as he’d taught them. But in case things went much further, Charlie needed an alibi for Tate and LaBianca. He went to work on that.
• • •
As soon as he was back in his L.A. office, Bugliosi issued a “want” for Charles Montgomery, the shadowy figure who, according to Kitty Lutesinger, might have been involved in some or all of the murders. Besides Lutesinger’s statement, Bugliosi also had an interview card from the Inyo County deputy who’d questioned Charles Montgomery after catching him skinny-dipping. But no information on Montgomery came back; the guy was smoke, impossible to nail down.
The five Family women in Inyo County cells were transferred to Sybil Brand in L.A. On Bugliosi’s instructions, they were kept separated. He believed they had some sort of strange “cohesion” that reinforced their individual resolve to not cooperate.
Inyo County DA Frank Fowles called Bugliosi: Sandy Good had been overheard telling someone that Charlie had an alibi plan. If he got charged with Tate and LaBianca, he’d say that he wasn’t anywhere near L.A. on those nights and the rest of the Family would swear that it was true. Simple and effective, because how could the L.A. prosecutors prove otherwise? Bugliosi was shaken. He called in a couple of the LaBianca investigators and told them that they had to find some proof of where Manson was for the whole week of the murders. He was pleased that they didn’t ask him how. They were pros.
• • •
On November 26, Bobby Beausoleil’s trial for the murder of Gary Hinman ended with a hung jury. Four jurors were so put off by Danny DeCarlo that they refused to vote for conviction. The prosecutors immediately announced that they would retry him. Bugliosi was assigned the case in addition to Tate and LaBianca. If all went well with those investigations, they’d be able to make a stronger case against Beausoleil the second time around.
• • •
Two weeks after she made her original request, Virginia Graham finally was granted the opportunity to tell what she knew about the Tate-LaBianca murders to a psychologist on the Corona prison staff. The psychologist passed Virginia along to one of the Tate-LaBianca squad members. Everything Virginia related matched what investigators had already learned from Ronnie Howard. The corroboration reinforced their conviction that they were finally on the right track.
LAPD investigators interrogated the five female Family members that had been transferred to Sybil Brand. No useful information was gleaned from Dianne Lake, Gypsy, Ruth Ann, or Nancy Pitman, but Leslie cracked just a little when she learned that Zero supposedly committed suicide. Sensing she was stunned by the news, Sgt. Mike McGann, who was conducting the interview, pounced. He told Leslie that he knew Charlie Manson was one of five Tate killers. Leslie mumbled that she didn’t think Charlie “was in on any of them,” and, besides, only four peop
le were involved at Cielo. Three of them were girls, and one of the girls named Linda didn’t kill anyone. That matched what Susan Atkins had told Ronnie Howard—“Linda wasn’t in on [that] one.” McGann kept pushing: What was Linda’s last name? Who told Leslie that Linda was at Cielo? Leslie turned sulky and uncooperative. She did suggest that she knew things about eleven murders. The LAPD was investigating nine—five at Cielo, two at Waverly Drive, Gary Hinman, and Shorty Shea. But try as McGann might, he could not get Leslie to be specific about the other two. It would not be the last time that a Family member alluded to murders that authorities knew nothing about.
McGann tried to goad Leslie out of her sulk. She didn’t respond when he told her that Susan had implicated Katie (Pat), but was shocked when McGann added that Susan bragged about going out the night after the Cielo murders and killing two more people. After that Leslie refused to talk anymore, even though McGann offered her twenty-four-hour protection if she cooperated. The session had still been useful for Bugliosi and the other investigators. They had confirmation that Susan, Pat, and Linda were the three women at Cielo, though beyond her name they still had no idea of who or where Linda was. But the interrogation was helpful for Charlie, too. Leslie had learned that Susan was snitching, and through Family members who visited her at Sybil Brand, probably Squeaky and Sandy, she was able to pass that information back to Charlie in the Inyo County jail. No one understood Susan Atkins’s foibles and insecurities better than Charlie Manson. Armed with the knowledge that she was betraying him, probably as a consequence of her compulsion to show off, Charlie could plot his countermoves.
• • •
A Spahn ranch hand told detectives that Linda’s last name was Kasabian. Los Angeles County officials identified Katie as Patricia Krenwinkel, who had been released to her father after the Barker Ranch raid. The LAPD contacted Mr. Krenwinkel, who said that Pat was staying with her mother in Alabama. But Linda was more elusive; no one knew where she might have gone. Charles Montgomery also remained at large.
