Helter Skelter

yet there is little indication of change in his demeanor. In view of his deep-seated personality problems… continuation of institutional treatment is recommended.”

On October 1, 1963, prison officials were informed, “according to court papers received in this institution, that Manson was married to a Leona Manson in 1959 in the State of California, and that the marriage was terminated by divorce on April 10, 1963, in Denver, Colorado, on grounds of mental cruelty and conviction of a felony. One child, Charles Luther Manson, is alleged to have been of this union.”

This is the only reference, in any of Manson’s records, to his second marriage and second child.

Manson’s annual review of September 1964 revealed a clear conduct record, but little else encouraging. “His past pattern of employment instability continues…seems to have an intense need to call attention to himself… remains emotionally insecure and tends to involve himself in various fanatical interests.”

Those “fanatical interests” weren’t identified in the prison reports, but at least several are known. In addition to Scientology and his guitar, there was now a third. In January 1964 “I Want to Hold Your Hand” became the No. 1 song on U.S. record charts. With the New York arrival of the “four Liverpool lads” the following month, the United States experienced, later than Great Britain but with no less intensity, the phenomenon known as Beatlemania. According to former inmates at McNeil, Manson’s interest in the Beatles was almost an obsession. It didn’t necessarily follow that he was a fan. There was more than a little jealousy in his reaction. He told numerous people that, given the chance, he could be much bigger than the Beatles. One person he told this to was Alvin Karpis, lone survivor of the Ma Barker gang. Manson had struck up a friendship with the aging gangster after learning he could play the steel guitar. Karpis taught Manson how. Again an observable pattern. Manson managed to get something from almost everyone with whom he associated.

May 1966: “Manson continues to maintain a clear conduct record…Recently he has been spending most of his free time writing songs, accumulating about 80 or 90 of them during the past year, which he ultimately hopes to sell following release…He also plays the guitar and drums, and is hopeful that he can secure employment as a guitar player or as a drummer or singer…

“He shall need a great deal of help in the transition from institution to the free world.”

In June 1966, Charles Manson was returned to Terminal Island for release purposes.

August 1966: “Manson is about to complete his ten-year term. He has a pattern of criminal behavior and confinement that dates to his teen years. This pattern is one of instability whether in free society or a structured institutional community. Little can be expected in the way of change in his attitude, behavior, or mode of conduct…” This last report noted that Manson had no further interest in academic or vocational training; that he was no longer an advocate of Scientology; that “he has come to worship his guitar and music”; and, finally, “He has no plans for release as he says he has nowhere to go.”

The morning Charles Manson was to be freed, he begged the authorities to let him remain in prison. Prison had become his home, he told them. He didn’t think he could adjust to the world outside.

His request was denied. He was released at 8:15 A.M. on March 21, 1967, and given transportation to Los Angeles. That same day he requested and received permission to go to San Francisco. It was there, in the Haight- Ashbury section, that spring, that the Family was born.

Charles Manson was thirty-two years old. Over seventeen of those years—more than half his life—had been spent in institutions. In those seventeen years, Manson had only been examined by a psychiatrist three times, and then very superficially.

I was surprised, in studying Manson’s record, to find no sustained history of violence— armed robbery age thirteen, homosexual rape age seventeen, wife beating age twenty, that was it. I was more than surprised, I was amazed at the number of federal offenses. Probably ninety-nine out of one hundred criminals never see the inside of a federal court. Yet here was Manson, described as “criminally sophisticated,” violating the Dyer Act, the Mann Act, stealing from the mails, forging a government check, and so on. Had Manson been convicted of comparable offenses in state courts, he probably would have served less than five years instead of over seventeen.

Why? I could only guess. Perhaps, as he said before his reluctant release from Terminal Island, prison was the only home he had. It was also possible that, consciously or unconsciously, he sought out those offenses that carried the most severe punishments. A third speculation—and I wasn’t overlooking the possibility that it could be a combination of all three—was a need, amounting almost to a compulsion, to challenge the strongest authority.

I was a long way from understanding Charles Manson. Though I could see patterns in his conduct, which might be clues to his future actions, a great deal was missing.

Burglar, car thief, forger, pimp—was this the portrait of a mass murderer?

I had far more questions than answers. And, as yet, not even a clue as to the motive.

NOVEMBER 24–26, 1969

Although Lieutenants Helder and LePage remained in charge of the Tate and LaBianca cases, the assignments were more jurisdictional than operational, since each was in charge of numerous other homicide investigations. Nineteen detectives had originally been assigned to the two cases. That number had now been cut to six. Moreover, for some odd reason, though there were only two victims in the LaBianca slayings, four detectives remained assigned to that case: Sergeants Philip Sartuchi, Mike Nielsen, Manuel “Chick” Gutierrez, and Frank Patchett. But on Tate, where there were five victims, there were only two detectives: Sergeants Robert Calkins and Mike McGann.

I called Calkins and McGann in for a conference and gave them a list of things I needed done. A few samples:

Interview Terry Melcher.

Check the fingerprints of every known Family member against the twenty-five unmatched latents found at 10050 Cielo Drive.

Put out a “want” on Charles “Tex” Montgomery, using the description on Inyo Deputy Sheriff Cox’s August 21, 1969, F.I.R. card (M/C/6 feet/145 pounds/slim build/ruddy complexion/born December 2, 1945). If the case breaks before we arrest him, I told them, we may never find him.

Show photos of every Family member to Chapman; Garretson; the Tate gardeners; and the families, friends, and business associates of the victims. It there’s a link, I want to know about it.

Check everyone in the Family to see who wears glasses, and determine if the pair found at the Tate murder scene belongs to a Family member.

“How do we do that?” Calkins asked. “They’re not about to admit it.”

“I presume you talk to their acquaintances, parents, relatives, to any of the Family members like Kitty Lutesinger and Stephanie Schram who are willing to cooperate,” I told him. “If you can check out the glasses with eye doctors all over the United States and Canada, you can certainly check out some thirty-five people.”

This was our initial estimate of the size of the Family. We’d later learn that at various times it numbered a hundred or more. The hard-core members—i.e., those who remained for any length of time and who were privy to what was going on—numbered between twenty-five and thirty.

Something occurred to me. “You did check out Garretson, didn’t you, to see if those glasses were his?”

They weren’t sure. They’d have to get back to me on that.

I later learned that although Garretson had been the first—and, for a time, the only—suspect in the murders, no one had thought to ascertain if those glasses, the single most important clue found at the murder scene, belonged to him. They hadn’t even asked him if he wore glasses. It turned out he sometimes did. I learned this in talking to his attorney, Barry Tarlow. Eventually I was able to get LAPD to contact the police in Lancaster, Ohio, Garretson’s home town, where he had returned after his release, and they obtained the specifics of Garretson’s prescription from his local optometrist. Not even close.

From the evidence I’d seen, I didn’t believe Garretson was involved in the murders, but I didn’t want a