nurture it until, in his mind at least, it budded into a full-bloomed conspiracy, with Bugliosi framing the whole case.
Kanarek had only one question for Mrs. Chapman, but it was a good one. Had she ever seen the defendant Charles Manson before her appearance in court? She replied that she had not.
Although he had recently married and was not anxious to leave his bride, William Garretson had flown back from his home in Lancaster, Ohio, where he had returned after being released by LAPD. The former caretaker came across as sincere, though rather shy. Although I intended to call both officers Whisenhunt and Wolfer, the former to testify to finding the setting on Garretson’s stereo at between 4 and 5, the latter to describe the sound tests he had conducted, I did question Garretson in detail as to the events of that night, and I felt the jury believed him when he claimed he hadn’t heard any gunshots or screams.
I asked Garretson: “How loud were you playing your stereo?”
A. “It was about medium…It wasn’t very loud.”
This, I felt, was the best evidence Garretson was telling the truth. Had he been lying about hearing nothing, then surely he would have lied and said the stereo was loud.
Most of Fitzgerald’s questions concerned Garretson’s arrest and alleged rough handling by the police. At one point later in the trial Fitzgerald would maintain that Garretson was involved in at least some of the Tate homicides. Since there wasn’t even a hint of this in his cross-examination, I’d conclude that he was belatedly looking for a convenient scapegoat.
Kanarek again asked the same question. No, he’d never seen Manson before, Garretson replied.
When I’d interviewed Garretson prior to his taking the stand, he’d told me that he still had nightmares about what had happened. That weekend, before his return to Ohio, Rudi Altobelli, who was now living in the main house, arranged for Garretson to revisit 10050 Cielo Drive. He found the premises quiet and peaceful. After that, he told me, the nightmares stopped.
By the end of the day we had finished with three more witnesses: Frank Guerrero, who had been painting the nursery that Friday; Tom Vargas, the gardener, who testified to the arrivals and departures of the various guests that day and to his signing for the two steamer trunks; and Dennis Hurst, who identified Sebring from a photograph as the man who came to the front door when he delivered the bicycle about eight that night.
The stage was now set for the prosecution’s main witness, whom I intended to call to the stand first thing Monday morning.
On hearing my opening statement, Manson must have realized that I had his number.
At the conclusion of court that afternoon sheriff’s deputy Sergeant William Maupin was escorting Manson from the lockup to the ninth floor of the jail when—to quote from Maupin’s report—“inmate Manson stated to undersigned that it would be worth $100,000 to be set free. Inmate Manson also commented on how much he would like to return to the desert and the life he had before his arrest. Inmate Manson commented additionally that money meant nothing to him, that several people had contacted him regarding large sums of money. Inmate Manson also stated that an officer would only receive a six month sentence if caught releasing an inmate without authority.”
Maupin reported the bribe offer to his superior, Captain Alley, who in turn informed Judge Older. Though the incident was never made public, Older gave the attorneys Maupin’s report the next day. Reading it, I wondered what Manson would try next.
Over the weekend, Susan Atkins, Patricia Krenwinkel, and Leslie Van Houten lit matches, heated bobby pins red-hot, then burned X marks on their foreheads, after which they ripped open the burnt flesh with needles, to create more prominent scars.
When the jurors were brought into court Monday morning, the X’s were the first thing they saw—graphic evidence that when Manson led, the girls followed.
A day or so later Sandy, Squeaky, Gypsy, and most of the other Family members did the same thing. As new disciples joined the group, this became one of the Family rituals, complete to tasting the blood as it ran down their faces.
JULY 27–AUGUST 3, 1970
Eight sheriff’s deputies escorted Linda Kasabian from Sybil Brand to the Hall of Justice, through an entrance that circumvented those patrolled by the Family. When they reached the ninth floor, however, Sandra Good suddenly appeared in the corridor and screamed, “
I saw Linda just after she arrived. Though her attorney, Gary Fleischman, had purchased a new dress for her, it had been misplaced, and she was wearing the same maternity dress she’d worn when pregnant. The baggy tent made her look more hippie-like than the defendants. After I’d explained the problem to Judge Older, he heard other matters in chambers until the dress was located and brought over. Later a similar courtesy would be extended to the defense when Susan Atkins lost her bra.
BUGLIOSI “The People call Linda Kasabian.”
The sad, resigned look she gave Manson and the girls contrasted sharply with their obviously hostile glares.
CLERK “Would you raise your right hand, please?”
KANAREK “Object, Your Honor, on the grounds this witness is not competent and she is insane!”
BUGLIOSI “Wait a minute! Your Honor, I move to strike that, and I ask the Court to find him in contempt for gross misconduct. This is unbelievable on his part!”
Unfortunately, it was all too believable—exactly the sort of thing we had feared since Kanarek came on the case. Ordering the jury to disregard Kanarek’s remarks, Older called counsel to the bench. “There is no question about it,” Older told Kanarek, “your conduct is outrageous…”
BUGLIOSI “I know the Court cannot prevent him from speaking up, but God knows what he is going to say in the future. If I were to say something like this in open court, I would probably be thrown off the case by my office and disbarred…”
Defending Kanarek, Fitzgerald told the Court that the defense intended to call witnesses who would testify that Linda Kasabian had taken LSD at least three hundred times. The defense would contend, he said, that such drug use had rendered her mentally incapable of testifying.
Whatever their offer of proof, Older said, matters of law were to be discussed either at the bench or in chambers,
Linda was sworn. I asked her: “Linda, you realize that you are presently charged with seven counts of murder and one count of conspiracy to commit murder?”
A. “Yes.”
Kanarek objected, moving for a mistrial. Denied. It was some ten minutes later before I was able to get in the second question.
Q. “Linda, are you aware of the agreement between the District
Attorney’s Office and your attorneys that if you testify to everything you know about the Tate-LaBianca murders, the District Attorney’s Office will petition the Court to grant you immunity from prosecution and dismiss all charges against you?”
A. “Yes, I am aware.”
Kanarek objected on four different grounds. Denied. By bringing this in first, we defused one of the defense’s biggest cannons.
Q. “Besides the benefits which will accrue to you under the agreement, is there any
