Manson: The Life and Times of Charles Manson Hardcover (48 page)

Though Sybil Brand inmates had informal if rigid rules against snitching, Virginia and Ronnie debated whether they should tell someone about what Susan was claiming. They decided to wait a while longer and see what else she might say. Maybe the girl would admit that she was making it all up, and then they’d be off the hook. They hoped so.

On November 12, Susan Atkins went to court for a preliminary hearing in the Hinman murder case. Through the testimony of L.A. County officers Whiteley and Guenther, she learned that Kitty Lutesinger rather than Bobby Beausoleil had informed on her. When she was returned to her dormitory in Sybil Brand, Susan angrily informed Virginia and Ronnie that Lutesinger’s life now “wasn’t worth anything.”

Virginia couldn’t listen to Susan long; she had just learned she was being transferred to the state’s main women’s prison in Corona, about forty miles east of L.A., to serve out her sentence. Ronnie would be left at Sybil Brand with Susan. She and Virginia still couldn’t decide whether they should inform on Susan.

•  •  •

As Virginia was packing her few belongings before being moved to Corona, the LaBianca investigators at Parker Center in downtown L.A. received a call from the Venice PD. The L.A. cops had mentioned to Venice police that they wanted to talk to a Straight Satan named Danny. The Venice cops hadn’t yet run across him, but
they did have another Straight Satan in custody if the LaBianca squad had any interest in talking to him. The biker’s name was Al Springer, and the Venice police delivered him to a Parker Center interrogation room.

Springer had plenty to tell about Charlie Manson and the Family. He related all of Charlie’s bragging about having a sword and knocking on rich people’s doors and killing them when they answered. Did they know about some dead body that had an ear cut off, Al wanted to know. Well, Charlie said he did that. He said he’d killed a black guy, too, with a .22 Buntline long barrel. Some of this Springer had from Charlie, and some from Danny DeCarlo, who’d heard it from Charlie and “Tex” and a
few others. But Springer swore that on August 11 or 12 Charlie told him directly that “we knocked off five of them just the other night.” Then he wanted to know if the LaBianca squad knew about “anybody hav[ing] their refrigerator wrote on.” Despite all the other leaks, the LAPD had managed to keep secret the writing of “Healter Skelter” on the LaBianca refrigerator door. Al Springer had to be taken seriously.

Since much of what Springer said concerned the Tate rather than the LaBianca killings, someone from the LaBianca squad went to fetch Sgt. Mike McGann from the Tate team. Springer repeated to McGann what he’d already told the LaBianca investigators, and added new information about the murder of somebody named Shorty. Danny DeCarlo told Springer that he’d heard Shorty got his head and arms and legs cut off for something he’d said or done that made Charlie mad. What the L.A. cops needed to do, Springer insisted, was find DeCarlo. Danny was scared of Charlie and the Family, so he’d tell what he knew about them for sure. With Springer’s help, DeCarlo was located at his mother’s. DeCarlo had some current legal issues and thought the LAPD might help him avoid jail on the charges if he voluntarily talked to them about Manson. He agreed to come to Parker Center the next day.

Finally, the Tate and LaBianca investigators were working together.

•  •  •

On November 12, the rest of the nation was preoccupied with a different tragedy. A story by journalist Seymour Hersh indicated that the Army was investigating a mass murder that dwarfed in number the seven victims in L.A.’s Tate and LaBianca slayings. In March 1968, Lt. William Calley allegedly directed the slaughter of over three hundred defenseless women, children, and old men while searching out North Vietnamese soldiers in the South Vietnam hamlet of My Lai. Calley, secretly charged by the military with murder in September 1969, stated in his own defense that he was simply carrying out orders to destroy the enemy, and it was his understanding that men, women, and children were all classified the same. Hersh’s article further inflamed the antiwar movement at a critical moment—another protest march was already set for Washington on November 15.

•  •  •

Ronnie Howard was deeply disturbed by Susan Atkins’s prediction that her leader Charlie and the so-called Family planned to kill more people. On the day that her friend Virginia was taken to the women’s prison in Corona, Ronnie told a female deputy at Sybil Brand that she knew who committed the Tate and LaBianca murders. Ronnie asked for permission to call the L.A. police so she could tell them what she knew. The deputy said she didn’t have the authority to let Ronnie make such a call, but she’d kick the request up the ladder. It would probably be a few days before her boss got back to her on it. Ronnie protested that the LAPD had to get this information right away; if they didn’t, more people might die. If she couldn’t make the call herself, would the deputy do it for her? But the deputy said it was against the rules for her to make a phone call on behalf of an inmate.

•  •  •

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 Attorney’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.