Helter Skelter

that, right? Didn’t we start out on good terms? Huh?”

A. “Yes.”

Q. “O.K. And I’m not about to beat you over the head with a hammer or hose and all that. All I want to do is talk to you friendly…”

Gutierrez interviewed Dianne for nearly two hours, obtaining from the sixteen-year-old little more than the admission that she liked candy bars.

Later Dianne Lake would become one of the prosecution’s most important witnesses. But credit for this goes to the Inyo County authorities, in particular Gibbens and Gardiner, who, instead of threats, tried patient, sympathetic understanding. It made all the difference.

Having got nothing from Dianne, Gutierrez next interviewed Rachel Morse, aka Ouisch, t/n Ruth Ann Moorehouse, age eighteen. Ruth Ann was the girl Danny DeCarlo identified as his “favorite sweetie,” the same girl who at Barker Ranch had told him she couldn’t wait to get her first pig.

Unlike Dianne, Ruth Ann answered Gutierrez’ questions, though most of her replies were lies. She claimed she’d never heard of Shorty, Gary Hinman, or anyone named Katie. The reason she knew so little, she explained, was that she had been with the Family only a short time, a month or so before the Spahn Ranch raid (all five girls said this, obviously by prearrangement).

Q. “I want to know everything you know, because you’re going to testify before that grand jury.”

A. “I don’t know anything.”

Q. “Then you’re going to hang with the rest of them. You’re going to go to the joint. If you don’t start cooperating, you’re going to go to the joint, and let me tell you what it is down there. They may drop that pill on you. They may drop that cyanide pill on you.”

A. (nearly screaming) “I haven’t done anything! I don’t know anything about it!”

Then, later:

Q. “How old are you?”

A. “Eighteen.”

Q. “That’s old enough to go to the gas chamber.”

There was also no evidence linking her to any of the homicides, but Gutierrez told her, “Fourteen murders, and you’re involved in each one!” He also promised her complete immunity (“You’re either going to go up for murder or you are going to go free”), and added, “Also, there is a $25,000 reward.”

Manon Minette, aka Gypsy, t/n Catherine Share, who at twenty-seven was the oldest female member of the Family, gave the detectives nothing of value. Nor did Brenda McCann, t/n Nancy Pitman, age eighteen.

It was otherwise, however, with twenty-year-old Leslie Sankston.

Leslie, whose true name, Van Houten, was not known to us at this time, was interviewed by Mike McGann. McGann tried using her parents, conscience, the hideousness of the murders, the implication that others had talked and involved her—none worked. What did work was Leslie’s little-girl cuteness, her I-know-something-you-don’t game playing. Repeatedly she trapped herself.

Q. “What did you hear about the Tate murders up there?”

A. “I’m deaf. I didn’t hear nothing.” [Laughs]

Q. “Five people were killed up there, on the hill. And I know three for sure that went up there. I think I know the fourth. And I don’t know the fifth. But I suspect you do. Why are you holding back? You know what happened.”

A. “I have a pretty good idea.”

Q. “I want to know who was involved. How it went down. The little details.”

A. “I told Mr. Patchett [in Independence] I’ll tell him if I changed my mind. I haven’t changed my mind yet.”

Q. “You’re going to have to talk about it someday.”

A. “Not today…How did you ever trace it back to Spahn?”

Q. “Who did you see leave the night of the eighth of August?”

A. [Laughs] “Oh, I went to bed early that night. Really, I don’t want to talk about it.”

Q. “Who went?”

A. “That’s what I don’t want to talk about.”

All these were little admissions, if not of participation, at least of knowledge.

Though she didn’t want to talk about the murders, she didn’t mind talking about the Family. “You couldn’t meet a nicer group of people,” she told McGann. “Of all the guys at the ranch, I liked Clem the best; he’s fun to be with.” Clem, with the idiot grin, who liked to expose himself to little children. Sadie was “really kind of a nice person. But she tends to be on the rough side…” As Sharon Tate, Gary Hinman, and others had discovered. Bruce Davis was all talk, Leslie continued, always going on about how he was going to dynamite someone, but she was sure it was “only talk.” She commented on some of the others, but not Charlie. In common with the four other girls who had been brought down from Independence, she avoided the subject of Manson.

Q. “The Family is no more, Leslie.” Charlie was in jail; Clem was in jail; Zero had killed himself playing Russian roulette—

A. “Zero!”

Obviously shocked, she dropped her little-girl role and pressed McGann for details. He told her that Bruce Davis had been present.

A. “Was Bruce playing it too?”

Q. “No.”

A. (sarcastically) “Zero was playing Russian roulette all by himself!”

Q. “Kind of odd, isn’t it?”

A. “Yeah, it’s odd!”

Sensing an advantage, McGann moved in. He told her that he knew five people had gone to the Tate residence, three girls and two men, and that one of the men was Charles Manson.

A. “I don’t think Charlie was in on any of them.”

Leslie said she had heard only four people went to Tate. “I would say that three of them were girls. I would say that there were probably more girls involved than men.” Then, later, “I heard one girl who didn’t murder someone while they was, they were up there.”

Q. “Who is that?”

A. “A girl by the name of Linda.”

Susan Atkins had told Ronnie Howard, in regard to the killings the second night, “Linda wasn’t in on this one,” presumably meaning she had been along the first night, but until now we had been unsure of this.

Questioned, Leslie said she didn’t know Linda’s last name; that she was at Spahn only a short time and hadn’t been arrested with them; and that she was a small girl, maybe five feet two, thin, with light-brown hair.

McGann asked her who had told her that Linda had been along on Tate. Leslie replied, petulantly, “I don’t remember. I don’t remember who told me little details!” Why was she so upset? McGann asked. “Because so many of my friends are getting knocked off, for reasons I don’t even know about.”

McGann showed her the mug shots taken after the Barker raid. Though she had been present, she claimed she couldn’t recognize most of the people. When handed one of a girl booked as “Marnie Reeves,” Leslie said, “That’s Katie.”

Q. “Katie is Marnie Reeves?”

Leslie equivocated. She wasn’t sure. She really didn’t know any of these people all that well. Though she had lived with the Family at both Spahn and Barker, she associated mostly with the motorcycle riders. She thought they were neat.

McGann brought the questioning back to the murders. Leslie began playing games again, and in the process