OCTOBER 6–31, 1970
Some weeks earlier, on returning to my office after court, I’d found a phone message from attorney Robert Steinberg, who was now representing Virginia Graham.
On the advice of her previous attorney, Virginia Graham had withheld some information. Steinberg had urged her to give this information to me. “Specifically,” the phone message read, “Susan Atkins laid out detailed plans to Miss Graham concerning other planned murders, including the murders of Frank Sinatra and Elizabeth Taylor.”
Since I was very busy, I arranged to have one of the co-prosecutors, Steve Kay, interview her.
According to Virginia, a few days after Susan Atkins told her about the Hinman, Tate, and LaBianca murders—probably on November 8 or 9, 1969—Susan had walked over to Virginia’s bed at Sybil Brand and begun leafing through a movie magazine. It reminded her, Susan said, about some other murders she had been planning.
She had decided to kill Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton, Susan matter-of-factly stated. She was going to heat a knife red-hot and put it against the side of Elizabeth Taylor’s face. This was more or less to leave her mark. Then she’d carve the words “helter skelter” on her forehead. After which, she was going to gouge her eyes out— Charlie had shown her how—and—
Virginia interrupted to ask what Richard Burton was supposed to be doing during all this.
Oh, both would be tied up, Susan said. Only this time the rope would be around their necks and their feet, so they couldn’t get away “like the others.”
Then, Susan continued, she would castrate Burton, placing his penis, as well as Elizabeth Taylor’s eyes, in a bottle. “And dig this, would you!” Susan laughed. “And then I’d mail it to Eddie Fisher!”
As for Tom Jones, another of her intended victims, she planned to force him to have sex with her, at knife point, and then, just as he was climaxing, she would slit his throat.
Steve McQueen was also on the list. Before Susan could explain what she had in mind for McQueen, Virginia interrupted, saying, “Sadie, you can’t just walk up to these people and kill them!”
That would be no problem, Susan said. It was easy to find out where they lived. Then she’d simply creepy- crawl them, “just like I did to Tate.”
She had something choice for Frank Sinatra, Susan continued. She knew that Frank liked girls. She’d just walk up to his door and knock. Her friends, she said, would be waiting outside. Once inside, they’d hang Sinatra upside down, then, while his own music was playing, skin him alive. After which they’d make purses out of the skin and sell them to hippie shops, “so everyone would have a little piece of Frank.”
She had come to the conclusion, Susan said, that the victims had to be people of importance, so the whole world would know.
Shortly after this, Virginia terminated the conversation with Susan. When asked by Steve Kay why she hadn’t come forward with the story before this, Virginia explained that it was just so insane that she didn’t think anyone would believe her. Even her former attorney had advised her to say nothing about it.
Were these Sadie’s own plans, or Charlie’s? Knowing as much as I did about Susan Atkins, I doubted if all this came from her. Though I had no proof, it was a reasonable inference that she had probably picked up these ideas from Manson.
In any case, it didn’t matter. Reading a transcript of the taped interview, I knew I’d never be able to introduce any of this in evidence: legally, its relevance to the Tate-LaBianca murders was negligible, and whatever limited relevance it did have would be outweighed by its extremely prejudicial effect.
Though Virginia Graham’s statement was useless as evidence, a copy of it was made available to each of the defense attorneys under discovery.
It would soon make its own kind of legal history.
Although it was Ronnie Howard who first went to the police, I called Virginia Graham to the stand first, since Susan had initially confessed to her.
Her testimony was unusually dramatic, since this was the first time the jury had heard what had happened inside the Tate residence.
Since their testimony was only against Susan Atkins, only Shinn cross-examined Graham and Howard. His attack was less on their statements than their backgrounds. He brought out, for example, sixteen different aliases Ronnie Howard had used. He also asked her if she made a lot of money as a prostitute.
Asking him to approach the bench, Older said, “You know the rules, Mr. Shinn. Don’t give me that wide-eyed innocent stare and pretend you don’t know what I am talking about.”
SHINN “Does Your Honor mean I cannot ask a person their occupation?”
The prosecution had made no “deals” with either Virginia Graham or Ronnie Howard. Howard had been acquitted on the forgery charge, while Graham had served out her full sentence at Corona. In both cases, however, Shinn did bring up the reward. When he asked Ronnie if she knew about the $25,000, she bluntly answered: “I think I am entitled to it.”
On redirect I asked each: “Are you aware that testifying in court is not a prerequisite to collecting the money?” Objection. Sustained. But the point was made.
The letters Susan Atkins had written to her former cellmates, Ronnie Howard, Jo Stevenson, and Kitt Fletcher, were very incriminating. Although I was prepared to call a handwriting expert to testify to their authenticity, Shinn, in order to save time, stipulated that Susan had written them. However, before they could be introduced in evidence, we had to “Arandize” them, excising any references to Atkins’ co-defendants. This was done in chambers, outside the presence of the jury.
Kanarek fought to exclude almost every line. Disgusted at his constant objections, Fitzgerald complained to Older: “I don’t have the rest of my life to spend here.” Older, equally disgusted, told Kanarek: “I would suggest that you use a little more discretion and not try to clutter up the record with motions, objections, and statements which any ten-year-old child can see are either nonsense or totally irrelevant…”
Yet time and again Kanarek pointed out subtleties the other defense attorneys missed. For example, Susan had written Ronnie: “When I first heard you were the informer I wanted to slit your throat. Then I snapped that I was the real informer and it was my throat I wanted to cut.”
You don’t “inform” on yourself, Kanarek argued; you “confess.” This implied that other people were involved.
After nineteen pages of argument, much of it very sophisticated, we finally edited this particular section to read: “When I first heard you were the informer I wanted to slit your throat. Then I snapped that it was my throat I wanted to cut.”
Kanarek wanted the line “Love Love Love” excluded from the Stevenson letter because “it refers to Manson.”
THE COURT “It sounds more like Gertrude Stein.”
Since the “Love” references were among the few favorable things in Susan’s letters, Shinn fought to retain them, remarking, “What do you want to do, make a killer out of her?”
The Los Angeles
Farr’s article contained direct quotes from the Virginia Graham statement, which we had turned over to the defense on discovery.
Questioned in chambers, Farr declined to identify his source or sources. After observing that under California law he could not order the reporter to do so, Older excused Farr.
