Manson: The Life and Times of Charles Manson Hardcover

by Jeff Guinn

  Squeaky Fromme and other members of the Family regularly came to Sybil Brand and badgered Susan Atkins about meeting with Charlie, firing her attorney, and recanting her grand jury testimony. Susan wavered. She told Caballero that she was certain she wouldn’t testify against Charlie and the others when they were brought to trial. Meanwhile, she wanted a meeting with Charlie. Stovitz and Bugliosi were sure that when she did, Charlie would reexert his control over her and she’d back out of her deal with the prosecution. They contacted Linda Kasabian’s lawyers and offered to request immunity for her in return for full cooperation. The lawyers agreed, and on February 28 she met with Bugliosi. Nearly nine months pregnant, Linda seemed quiet and honest. He liked her much more than Susan. Linda went out with investigators to Cielo and described the gruesome events in explicit detail, breaking into tears at times.

  Susan had her meeting with Charlie on March 5. She wrote later that she had to choose between two terrible options. Susan believed that if she cooperated with the prosecution, Charlie would have her killed, and also her son. If she did as Charlie demanded and backed out of the agreement to cooperate, the prosecutors would undoubtedly seek the death penalty against her. She was more frightened of Charlie than of the gas chamber, so the next day she fired Richard Caballero, who had urged her cooperation with prosecutors, and replaced him with Daye Shinn, one of the lawyers who had hoped to represent Charlie.

  Media coverage of Susan’s meeting with Charlie—one report described their “jail reunion” as “joyous”—was overshadowed by reports of a terrible explosion in Greenwich Village, New York. A ten-room town house was destroyed. Investigators discovered that it was being used by the Weathermen as a primitive bomb factory. Three of their members died in the blast, which was caused by bungled bomb construction. Based on evidence gathered at the scene and the testimony of survivors, it was learned that the group had intended to set off explosions at a dance for military personnel at Fort Dix in New Jersey with the intention of killing everyone there—giving America, in Mark Rudd’s recollection, “a taste of what it had been dishing out daily in Southeast Asia.” That plan had failed, but domestic terrorist bombings around the nation continued to escalate. The government estimated there was now an average of forty per week. Almost all of the explosives were homemade, and many were built according to instructions in The Blaster’s Handbook, a build-a-bomb primer published by the Explosives Department of the du Pont Corporation and readily available to anyone.

  On the same day that the Greenwich Village town house exploded, LIE was released. Phil Kaufman knew enough about the music business to realize that he had to start off small. His plan was to place the first few hundred albums in local L.A. head shops that catered to counterculture customers, and then, when those were snapped up, proving there was wider demand, get LIE into chain record stores where it could sell in greater numbers. But when Kaufman took the LP around to the small shops, no one wanted to stock it. It was one thing for head shop owners to find Charlie fascinating, but another to seemingly endorse murder by offering his record for sale. Kaufman did his best but soon realized that there was no market, underground or otherwise, for a Charlie Manson album.

  Kaufman realized that, but Charlie didn’t. He found it impossible to believe that the world wasn’t clamoring to hear his music. Clearly, Phil Kaufman was lying when he said no store would stock them; he must be selling them, claiming that he hadn’t, and pocketing the profits instead of turning the money over to Charlie to pay his legal costs. Charlie sent some of the Family to Kaufman’s house to demand the cash from record sales. When Kaufman told them there was no money to give them, they threatened him and demanded that he give them any unsold LIE albums instead. Kaufman refused. When they came back a second time brandishing knives, he held them at bay with a shotgun. On a third visit, the Family members surrounded his house and chanted, “Give us the music.” Instead, Kaufman emerged from the house waving a .357 Magnum and chased them down the street. He decided that the Family wasn’t harmless after all, and that Charlie probably did order some of his followers to commit the Tate-LaBianca murders. Kaufman still hoped to sell the albums and recoup his investment, but attorneys representing Voytek Frykowski’s son got a court order garnishing any album proceeds for the boy. Kaufman was left with a garageful of vinyl LPs and the realization that for a long time the duplicitous son of a bitch had hid his murderous side from Kaufman.

  On March 10, Daye Shinn announced that Susan Atkins would recant her grand jury testimony and claim that, under pressure from the prosecution, she’d made up everything. Stovitz and Bugliosi told reporters that they’d expected that ever since Susan was allowed to meet with Manson, and that they still had enough evidence to successfully prosecute her along with Charlie, Pat, Leslie, and Tex, whenever he was finally extradited from Texas to California. The prosecutors met with DA Younger, and it was agreed that they’d seek the death penalty for all the defendants.

  Charlie got what he wanted with Susan, but lost another legal skirmish. Judge Keene, who previously agreed to let Charlie serve as his own attorney, reversed the decision on the grounds that since his original decision he’d determined that Charlie was incapable of competent self-defense. Charlie screamed, “There’s no love in this court,” and Gypsy and Sandy Good, seated in the spectator section, leaped to their feet to shout insults at Keene. He jailed them for five days and appointed Charles Hollopeter, who had one of the city’s most successful practices, as Charlie’s attorney. Hollopeter immediately asked that Charlie be examined by a psychiatrist. That enraged Charlie, who demanded that Keene at least allow him the defense lawyer of his choice. When the judge agreed, Charlie selected thirty-five-year-old Ronald Hughes, a stout, shambling attorney who had never tried a criminal case. He’d worked himself into Charlie’s good graces by handling the legal paperwork necessary to transfer the rights for Charlie’s songs to Phil Kaufman as part of getting the album release. Charlie clearly intended for Hughes to be a figurehead—there was no way Charlie would allow anyone else to orchestrate his defense. Given his lack of trial experience, Hughes was someone the prosecutors didn’t mind facing in a courtroom.

  Any pleasure Stovitz and Bugliosi took from Charlie’s choice of attorney was short-lived. Within days, he jettisoned Hughes for Irving Kanarek, who was notorious for his outrageous tactics. (Hughes was shifted over to defend Leslie Van Houten.) Somehow Charlie had learned about Kanarek, who routinely confounded judges and prosecutors and put juries to sleep by extending trials with drawn-out questioning of witnesses and frequent objections that seemed like filibusters. His apparent intent was to provoke some prosecutorial or judicial misstep that would allow him to win on appeal. Kanarek bragged that unlike all the ambulance chasers who’d begged Charlie for the high-profile job, Charlie came to him. Kanarek’s was exactly the kind of defense approach that would cause Stovitz and Bugliosi the most trouble. Their plan to present Helter Skelter as a motive was a delicate, complicated strategy under the best of circumstances. With Kanarek jumping in to stall and obfuscate at every opportunity, their chances of holding a jury’s attention over the course of a lengthy trial were greatly reduced. Hiring Kanarek was a masterstroke on Charlie’s part.

  Linda Kasabian gave birth to a son she named Angel. Her mother took the newborn back to New Hampshire, and Linda was returned to Sybil Brand. She was kept isolated from the general prison population, and continued to cooperate with prosecutors.

  Investigators got a copy of the ticket citing Charlie on August 7, 1969, for driving without a valid license near Oceanside, about halfway between L.A. and San Diego. By law, all evidence accumulated by the prosecution had to be shared with the defense, but Bugliosi hoped they’d miss its significance. If it was claimed that Charlie was nowhere near L.A. around the time of the Tate-LaBianca murders, the ticket proved that he was. There was additional corroboration by Kasabian, who told prosecutors that Charlie was back at Spahn on the night of August 8, when he sent Mary Brunner and Sandy Good out
shopping and they were arrested for using stolen credit cards. The old van that they were driving, noted on their arrest report, was the same one cited on Charlie’s ticket.

  Then came a surprise—Bernard Crowe, “Lotsapoppa,” wasn’t dead after all. He’d played dead in July when Charlie shot him, and had spent eighteen days on a hospital critical list with a slug from the Buntline .22 lodged near his spine. It was still there when his attorney contacted Bugliosi and set up an interview. Bugliosi determined that Lotsapoppa might be useful as a prosecution witness in the penalty phase of the trial if the jury found Charlie guilty. He was walking proof that Charlie was personally able to kill.

  Shortly afterward, Lotsapoppa was arrested on drug charges and taken to court. Charlie, under tight guard, passed him in the hall, did a double take, then said, “Sorry I had to do it, but you know how it is.”

  Pat Krenwinkel refused to give prosecutors a sample of her handwriting to match with the bloody words “Healter Skelter” on the LaBiancas’ refrigerator door. The prosecutors welcomed her refusal; now they could use it in court as circumstantial evidence of her guilt.

  Bobby Beausoleil was tried a second time for the murder of Gary Hinman. Judge Keene presided. Bugliosi was excused from prosecuting to concentrate on Tate-LaBianca. Mary Brunner was granted complete immunity in return for testifying that she saw Bobby kill Hinman. Beausoleil, certain that Mary had been ordered by Charlie to sell him out, took the stand and claimed that Charlie was the one who killed Hinman; Beausoleil swore that he personally was a witness to the murder, not a participant. The jury found Beausoleil guilty and sentenced him to death. Charlie, Susan, and Bruce Davis were indicted for Hinman’s slaying. Davis fled before he could be arrested.

  On April 10, 1970, a press release for Paul McCartney’s brand-new solo album announced the breakup of the Beatles. Any hope Charlie and the Family had that the band would come to his defense was lost. He and his attorneys discussed calling the Beatles individually as witnesses, since Charlie believed they would, under oath, support him. But letters to the Beatles’ office received no reply, and the lawyers were unable to find their home addresses.

  The prosecutors thought there was a weakness in Linda Kasabian’s potential testimony. She’d provided graphic first-person accounts of the nights of the Tate and LaBianca murders, and Rudolf Weber corroborated some of what she said about August 9. But prosecutors hadn’t found anyone to back up any part of her testimony about the next night. Bugliosi urged the LaBianca investigators to comb Venice for the actor Linda said Charlie ordered her to kill. They found him. Saladin Nader admitted he’d picked up two girl hitchhikers in early August 1969, and picked out photos of Linda and Sandy, who he correctly said was very pregnant at the time. Bugliosi and Stovitz would have liked more witnesses to support Linda’s version of the August 10 events, but none could be found.

  Judge Keene had offended Charlie by not allowing him to serve as his own attorney, and on April 13 Charlie struck back. Under California law, defendants were allowed to file an affidavit of prejudice against a judge and request that he be removed from their case. Charlie filed one, and Keene stepped down in favor of Charles H. Older, whose first act was to set a new trial date of June 15.

  From Sybil Brand in L.A., Leslie Van Houten sent a letter to Tex Watson in the Collin County, Texas, jail. “You know the strength of unity,” she wrote. “Myself, as well as the others, would like very much for you to be with all of us throughout this trial. . . . I truly do hope to see your shining face here soon.” Tex wasn’t buying it. He and his Texas attorney continued to fight the L.A. prosecutors’ extradition requests, arguing that excessive publicity made it impossible for Tex to get a fair trial there. Stovitz and Bugliosi concluded that they would have to try Charlie, Susan, Pat, and Leslie in June, and hope for a shot at Tex in a separate trial.

  Charlie felt good enough about his chances to send Clem and Gypsy back to Death Valley with a message for Paul Crockett, Brooks Poston, and Little Paul Watkins. Clem told Watkins, “Charlie says that when he gets out, you all had better not be around the desert.”

  Then Mary Brunner recanted her testimony that she had seen Bobby Beausoleil kill Gary Hinman. Judge Keene, still presiding over the Beausoleil trial, turned down Bobby’s petition to overturn his death sentence and grant a retrial. Keene said there was sufficient evidence to convict Beausoleil even if Mary’s testimony was discounted. Beausoleil was sent to San Quentin to await execution, and prosecutors debated whether Mary should be arrested and charged for Hinman’s murder, too. She’d been promised immunity for testifying against Beausoleil, which she did. There was nothing in their agreement that addressed the situation where she recanted after he was convicted. But she’d clearly violated the spirit if not the letter of the deal, so Mary was indicted for murder. Within weeks that indictment was overturned in a higher court. Mary went back to the Family at Spahn Ranch. Charlie’s original follower had returned to his service.

  Spring antiwar demonstrations on college campuses turned violent. On May 4, National Guardsmen shot and killed four student protesters at Kent State University in Ohio. In mid-month a riot at predominantly black Jackson State College in Mississippi cost two students their lives, one still in high school. Protests sparked by the six deaths erupted at schools across the nation; the National Guard was called in to restore order on twenty-one campuses, and some 350 colleges and universities were temporarily closed by administration order or student strike. About seventy-five remained shut for the remainder of the semester. There was considerable public backlash against the protesters. A Gallup poll indicated that 58 percent of respondents blamed the Kent State students for bringing about their own deaths. Gulf Oil distributed 22 million “America—Love It or Leave It” bumper stickers. In New York, construction workers charged a student demonstration and injured seventy participants. Bob Schieffer, then just beginning his career at CBS, recalled that “concerning the counterculture and young [antiwar] marchers, a large percentage of the adult population thought they were awful and just wanted them to go away.”

  Charlie supplanted coverage of campus riots and closings when he began a series of extreme courtroom protests. First he stood with his back to Judge Older after losing an appeal for a change of trial venue from Los Angeles. After Charlie was forcibly removed and placed in a locked room nearby, Susan, Pat, and Leslie all dramatically rose and turned their backs on the judge in turn. Older appealed to the women’s defense attorneys to counsel them on appropriate courtroom behavior. Paul Fitzgerald said apologetically that there was no use in trying because “there is a minimum of client control in this case.” Older ordered the women removed, too, and when Charlie and the three women returned to court on Friday, June 12, he cautioned them that a jury might be put off by similar stunts—did they really want to jeopardize their chances? Charlie responded, “You leave me nothing. You can kill me now,” and stretched out his arms to mimic a crucifixion. The three women did the same. Older once again ordered them removed, and this time Charlie fought a bailiff who tried to haul him from the courtroom. As he was dragged out the door, Susan screamed at Older, “You might as well kill us all now, because we are not going to get a fair trial.” She, Pat, and Leslie then chanted, “Kill us,” as women bailiffs removed them, too. After they were gone, Older denied a series of requests by Kanarek, one of which was to suppress Charlie’s body as trial evidence, which would have meant no witness could identify Charlie in front of the jury. Then the judge announced that the trial would commence on schedule, with jury selection beginning on Monday, June 15.

  Jury selection took an agonizing five weeks. After learning that Judge Older intended to sequester those selected for the entire trial, which was expected to last six months, many in the juror pool claimed hardship as a reason not to serve. Others were dismissed because they were openly opposed or seemed squeamish about the death penalty. Kanarek was frequently warned by Older about drawing out the process by asking prospective jurors irrelevant question
s. Stovitz and Bugliosi petitioned to have Kanarek removed from the case and were denied. Charlie held an impromptu courtroom press conference to declare that the only thing he’d ever killed in his life was a chicken. Unhappy with recent stories that labeled him a “cult leader,” and claiming that negative coverage convinced everyone of his guilt even before he was tried, Charlie tongue-lashed reporters: “If you contribute to it, you’re part of it. It’s just as much your fault as anyone’s.”

  If Charlie thought that the mainstream press was treating him unfairly, he was really laid low in late June, when Rolling Stone published the investigative article by Felton and Dalton. It wasn’t the kiss in print that Charlie anticipated. In twenty devastating pages, the reporters laid waste to Charlie mostly by quoting him extensively. Raps about ceasing to exist and the race wars to come that enthralled acid-addled followers in the Haight and at Spahn and Barker ranches seemed nonsensical in print. Charlie babbled about his messages from the Beatles and said that “death is psychosomatic.” Felton and Dalton described the Family at Spahn Ranch as “children from the Village of the Damned.” Charlie and the Family had been in the news for seven months. Fascination with them continued, but the novelty was gone. When they were examined in any depth, their flaws were obvious. During June and July, Charlie learned the difference between notoriety and popularity.

  Los Angeles District Attorney Evelle Younger didn’t like the Rolling Stone article any more than Charlie and the Family did. An anonymous member of the prosecution team had spoken to the writers at length about the case to be made against Charlie. Younger couldn’t prove it was Stovitz or Bugliosi, but he called them into his office and warned, “No more interviews.” They thought Younger was being hypocritical, since he himself had granted several Charlie-related interviews. The two prosecutors assumed Younger didn’t mean that they couldn’t respond directly to queries from the press, only that they couldn’t discuss anything in depth.