little grin, “O.K., let’s go to trial right now.”
PART 4
The Search for the Motive
“If I’m looking for a motive, I’d look for something which doesn’t fit your habitual standard, with which you use to work as police—something much more far out.”
JANUARY 1970
Confidential Memo. From: Deputy DA Vincent Bugliosi. To: District Attorney Evelle Younger. Subject: Status of Tate & LaBianca cases.
The memo ran to thirteen pages, but the heart of it consisted of a single paragraph:
“Without Susan Atkins’ testimony on the Tate case, the evidence against two out of the five defendants [Manson and Kasabian] is rather anemic. Without her testimony on the LaBianca case, the evidence against five out of the six defendants [everyone except Van Houten] is non-existent.”
That was it. Without Sadie, we still didn’t have a case.
On January 2, I called a meeting of the Tate and LaBianca detectives, giving them a list of forty-two things that had to be done.
Many were repeat requests: Go to the areas where the clothing and the gun were found and search for knives. Has Granado been able to “make” the boots we picked up in November with the bloody boot-heel print on the Tate walkway? SID must have something by now on the wire cutters, also the clothing the TV crew found. Where is the tape Inyo County Deputy Sheriff Ward made with the two miners, Crockett and Poston? Where are the reports on the Tate, LaBianca, and Spahn Ranch toll calls? Telephone company destroys its records after six months; hurry on this.
Many of the requests were elementary follow-up steps that I felt the detectives should have already done on their own, without our prompting: Get Atkins printing exemplar and compare it with PIG on the front door at Tate. Get same on defendants Van Houten, Krenwinkel, and Watson and compare with printing at the LaBianca residence. Submit a complete report on the stolen credit cards involved in this case (we were hoping to find a sales slip on the rope or the Buck knives). DeCarlo said he was along when Manson purchased the three-strand nylon rope at the Jack Frost store in Santa Monica in June 1969: ask Frost employees if they sold such a rope; also show them the “Family album” to see if they can recall Manson and/or DeCarlo. Also show photos of Manson, Atkins, Kasabian, and the others to employees of the Standard station in Sylmar where Rosemary LaBianca’s wallet was found.
After giving the detectives the list, I asked, “I presume that, above and beyond what I’ve given you, you guys are also conducting your own independent investigations?” The long silence that followed was in itself the answer. Then Calkins complained, “How are we supposed to know to do these things? We’re policemen, not lawyers.”
“Wait a minute,” I said. “These forty-two things have nothing to do with the law. Each and every one pertains to securing evidence and strengthening our case against these people.”
“But that isn’t our job,” Calkins continued to protest.
His remark was so astonishing I came close to losing my temper. “
I could understand if the detectives had other duties, but they were assigned full time to the case.
Unlike Calkins, Mike McGann rarely complained, but he rarely came through either. To a man, the LaBianca detectives were far more conscientious. In the weeks ahead I began giving them assignments that related specifically to the Tate, as well as the LaBianca, murders, knowing they’d do their best. I did this only after checking with Lieutenant Helder, who candidly agreed that Calkins and McGann simply weren’t getting the job done.
If it was any consolation to the police—and I’m sure it wasn’t—my own list was much longer than theirs. It ranged from such simple items as a reminder to get the Beatles’ album that contained the song “Helter Skelter” to more than fifty names of potential witnesses I needed to interview. It also included such detailed specifics as: Obtain exact measurements of all LaBianca wounds—original officers failed to ask Deputy Medical Examiner Katsuyama for this—in order to determine dimensions of knives used.
The measurements of the LaBianca wounds were extremely important. If the wound patterns were consistent with those made by the LaBianca kitchen knives, then the logical inference was that the defendants had entered the residence unarmed, then killed the LaBiancas with their own knives. If Manson had intended to kill these people, the defense would surely ask, would he have sent in unarmed people to do the job?
Of even greater importance was another item which appeared on all the assignment lists: Get incidents— and witnesses who can testify to same—where Manson ordered or instructed
Put yourself in the jury box. Would you believe the prosecutor if he told you that a little runt out at Spahn Ranch sent some half dozen people, the majority of them young girls, out to murder for him, their victims not persons they knew and had a grudge against but complete strangers, including a pregnant woman, and that without argument they did it?
To convince a jury of this, I would have first to convince them of Manson’s domination over the Family, and particularly over his co-defendants. A domination so total, so complete, that they would do anything he told them to do. Including murder.
Each time I interviewed anyone connected with the Family, I would ask for an example of Manson’s control. Often the witness would be unable to recall specific examples, and I’d have to dig to bring them out: Why did Manson beat Dianne Lake; was it because she failed to do something he told her to do? Who assigned the chores at the ranch? Who put out the guards and lookouts? Can you recall a single instance where Tex ever talked back to Charlie?
Getting this evidence was especially difficult because Manson rarely gave direct orders. Usually he’d suggest, rather than command, though his suggestions had the force of commands.
As the defense attorneys requested discovery, I’d take them to my office and let them go through our files on the case. Since Manson was now acting as his own attorney, the files were also made available to him, the only difference being that they were carted over to the County Jail and he examined them there. Eventually, by a court order, secretaries in our office photostated everything in our files, with a copy for each defense counsel.
Only two things were held back. I argued to the court, “We would vehemently resist furnishing Mr. Manson with addresses, and particularly telephone numbers, of prospective witnesses, Your Honor.” I also strongly opposed providing the defense with copies of the death photos. We had heard that a German magazine had a standing offer of $100,000 for them. I did not want the families of the victims to open a magazine and see the terrible butchery inflicted on their loved ones.
With only these two exceptions—the court ruling in our favor on both—the prosecution, by law, gave the
