Kanarek learned nothing from his night in jail. The next morning he was right back interrupting both my questions and Linda’s replies. Admonishments from the bench accomplished nothing; he’d apologize, then immediately do the same thing again. All this concerned me much less than the fact that he occasionally succeeded in keeping out testimony. Usually when Older sustained an objection, I could work my way around it, introducing the testimony in a different way. For example, when Older foreclosed me from questioning Linda about the defendants watching the news of the Tate murders on TV the day after those murders occurred, because he couldn’t see the relevance of this, I asked Linda if, on the night of the murders, she was aware of the identities of the victims.
A. “No.”
Q. “When was the first time you learned the names of these five people?”
A. “The following day on the news.”
Q. “On television?
A. “Yes.”
Q. “In Mr. Spahn’s trailer?”
A. “Yes.”
Q. “Did you see Tex, Sadie, and Katie during the day following these killings, other than when you were watching television with them?”
A. “Well, I saw Sadie and Katie in the trailer. I cannot remember seeing Tex on that day.”
The relevance of this would become obvious when Barbara Hoyt took the stand and testified (1) that Sadie came in and told her to switch channels to the news; (2) that before this particular day Sadie and the others never watched the news; and (3) that immediately after the newscaster finished with Tate and moved on to the Vietnam war, the group got up and left.
In my questioning of Linda regarding the second night, there was one reiterated theme: Who told you to turn off the freeway? Charlie. Was anyone else in the car giving directions other than Mr. Manson? No. Did anyone question any of Mr. Manson’s commands? No.
In her testimony regarding both nights, there were also literally a multitude of details which only someone who had been present on those nights of horrendous slaughter could have known.
Realizing very early how damaging this was, Manson had remarked, loud enough for both Linda and the jury to hear, “You’ve already told three lies.”
Linda, looking directly at him, had replied, “Oh, no, Charlie, I’ve spoken the truth, and you know it.”
By the time I had finished my direct examination of Linda Kasabian on the afternoon of July 30, I had the feeling the jury knew it too.
When I know the defense has something which might prove harmful to the prosecution’s case, as a trial tactic I usually put on that evidence myself first. This not only converts a damaging left hook into a mere left jab, it also indicates to the jury that the prosecution isn’t trying to hide anything. Therefore, I’d brought out, on direct, Linda’s sexual permissiveness and her use of LSD and other drugs. [67] Prepared to destroy her credibility with these revelations, the defense found itself going over familiar ground. In doing so, they sometimes even strengthened our case.
It was Fitzgerald, Krenwinkel’s defense attorney, not the prosecution, who brought out that during the period Linda was at Spahn, “I was not really together in myself…I was extremely impressionistic…I let others put ideas in me”; and—even more important—that she feared Manson.
Q. “What were you afraid of?” Fitzgerald asked.
A. “I was just afraid. He was a heavy dude.”
Asked to explain what she meant by this, Linda replied, “He just had something, you know, that could hold you. He was a heavyweight. He was just heavy, period.”
Fitzgerald also elicited from Linda that she loved Manson; that “I felt he was the Messiah come again.”
Linda then added one statement which went a long way toward explaining not only why she but also many of the others had so readily accepted Manson. When she first saw him, she said, “I thought…‘This is what I have been looking for,’ and this is what I saw in him.”
Manson—a mirror which reflected the desires of others.
Q. “Was it also your impression that other people at the ranch loved Charlie?”
A. “Oh, yes. It seemed that the girls worshiped him, just would die to do anything for him.”
Helter Skelter, Manson’s attitude toward blacks, his domination of his co-defendants: in each of these areas Fitzgerald’s queries brought out additional information which bolstered Linda’s previous testimony.
Often his questions backfired, as when he asked Linda: “Do you remember who you slept with on August 8?”
A. “No.”
Q. “On the tenth?”
A. “No, but eventually I slept with all the men.”
Time and again Linda volunteered information which could have been considered damaging, yet, coming from her, somehow seemed only honest and sincere. She was so open that it caught Fitzgerald off guard.
Avoiding the word “orgy,” he asked her, regarding the “love scene that took place in the back house…did you enjoy it?”
Linda frankly answered: “Yeah, I guess I did. I will have to say I did.”
If possible, at the end of Fitzgerald’s cross-examination Linda Kasabian looked even better than she had at the end of the direct.
It was Monday, August 3, 1970. I was on my way back to court from lunch, a few minutes before 2 P.M., when I was abruptly surrounded by newsmen. They were all talking at once, and it was a couple of seconds before I made out the words: “Vince, have you heard the news?
AUGUST 3–19, 1970
Fitzgerald had a copy of the AP wire. In Denver for a conference of law-enforcement officials, the President, himself an attorney, was quoted as complaining that the press tended “to glorify and make heroes out of those engaged in criminal activities.”
He continued: “I noted, for example, the coverage of the Charles Manson case…Front page every day in the papers. It usually got a couple of minutes in the evening news. Here is a man who was guilty, directly or indirectly, of eight murders. Yet here is a man who, as far as the coverage is concerned, appeared to be a glamorous figure.”
Following Nixon’s remarks, presidential press secretary Ron Ziegler said that the President had “failed to use the word ‘alleged’ in referring to the charges.”[68]
We discussed the situation in chambers. Fortunately, the bailiffs had brought the jury back from lunch before the story broke. They remained sequestered in a room upstairs, and so, as yet, there was no chance of their having been exposed.
Kanarek moved for a mistrial. Denied. Ever suspicious that the sequestration was not effective, he asked that the jurors be voir dired to see if any had heard the news. As Aaron put it, “It would be like waving a red flag. If they didn’t know about it before, they certainly will after the voir dire.”
Older denied the motion “without prejudice,” so it could be renewed at a later time. He also said he would tell the bailiffs to inaugurate unusually stringent security measures. Later that afternoon the windows of the bus used to transport the jury to and from the hotel were coated with Bon Ami to prevent the jurors from seeing the inevitable headlines. There was a TV set in their joint recreation room at the Ambassador; ordinarily they could
