Helter Skelter

Older recessed court for the weekend. The preliminaries were over. The trial would begin the following Monday—June 15, 1970.

PART 6 The Trial

“If the tale that is unfolding were not so monstrous, aspects of it would break the heart.”

JEAN STAFFORD

JUNE 15–JULY 23, 1970

Judge Charles Older’s court, Department 104, was located on the eighth floor of the Hall of Justice. As the first panel of sixty prospective jurors was escorted into the crowded courtroom, their expressions changed from boredom to curiosity. Then, as eyes alighted on the defendants, mouths dropped open in abrupt shock.

One man gasped, loud enough for those around him to hear, “My God, it’s the Manson trial! ”

In chambers the chief topic was sequestration. Judge Older had decided that once jury selection was completed, the jurors would be locked up until the end of the trial—“to protect them from harassment and to prevent their being exposed to trial publicity.” Arrangements had already been made for them to occupy part of a floor at the Ambassador Hotel. Although spouses could visit on weekends, at their own expense, bailiffs would take all necessary precautions to see that the jury remained isolated from both outsiders and any news about the case. No one was sure how long this would be—estimates of the trial’s length ranged from three to six months and up—but obviously it would be severe hardship for those chosen.

STOVITZ “Your Honor has—and I don’t say this in comedy—sentenced some felons for less than three months in custody.”

THE COURT “No doubt about it.”

FITZGERALD “Not at the Ambassador, though.”

Although all the attorneys had some reservations about sequestration, only one strongly opposed it: Irving Kanarek. Since Kanarek had screamed the loudest about the taint of publicity adverse to his client, I concluded that Manson, not Kanarek, must have been behind the motion. And I had my own opinion as to why Charlie didn’t want the jury locked up.

Rumor had it that Judge Older himself had already received several threats. A secret memo he’d sent the sheriff, outlining courtroom security measures, ended with the following paragraph:

“The sheriff shall provide the trial judge with a driver-bodyguard, and security shall be provided at the trial judge’s residence on a 24-hour basis, until such time as all trial and post-trial proceedings have been concluded.”

Twelve names were drawn by lot. When the prospective jurors were seated in the jury box, Older explained that the sequestration could last “as much as six months.” Asked if any felt this would constitute undue hardship, eight of the twelve raised their hands.[62]

Envisioning a mass exodus from the courtroom, Older was very strict when it came to excuses for cause. However, anyone who stated that he or she could not vote the death penalty under any circumstances was automatically excused, as was anyone who had read Susan Atkins’ confession. This was usually approached obliquely, the prospective juror being asked something like “Have you read where any defendant has made any type of incriminating statement or confession?” to which several answered on the order of “Yes, that thing in the L.A. Times.” Questioning on this and other issues dealing with pre-trial publicity was done individually and in chambers, to avoid contaminating the whole panel.

After Older finished the initial questioning, the attorneys began their individual voir dire (examination). I was disappointed in Fitzgerald, who led off. His questions were largely conversational, and quite often showed no sign of prior thought. For example: “Have you or any member of your family ever been the unfortunate victim of a homicide?” Fitzgerald asked this not once but twice, before one of his fellow lawyers nudged him and suggested that if the prospective juror was a homicide victim he wouldn’t be of much use on a jury.

Reiner was much better. It was obvious that he was doing his best to separate his client, Leslie Van Houten, from the other defendants. It was also obvious that in doing so he was incurring Manson’s wrath. Kanarek objected to Reiner’s questions almost as often as did the prosecution.

Shinn asked the first prospective juror only eleven questions, seven of which Older ruled improper. His entire voir dire, including objections and arguments, took only thirteen pages of transcript.

Kanarek began by reading a number of questions obviously written by Manson. This apparently didn’t satisfy Charlie, as he asked Older if he could ask the jurors “a few simple, tiny, childlike questions that are real to me in my reality.” Refused permission, Manson instructed Kanarek: “You will not say another word in court.”

Manson contended, Kanarek later told the Court, that he was already presumed guilty; therefore there was no need to question the jurors, since it didn’t matter who was selected.

To my amazement, Kanarek, usually a very independent sort, actually followed Manson’s instructions and declined to ask further questions.

Lawyers are not supposed to “educate” jurors during voir dire, but every lawyer worth his salt tries to predispose a jury to his side. For example, Reiner asked: “Have you read anything in the press, or heard anything on TV, to the effect that Charles Manson has a kind of ‘hypnotic power’ over the female defendants?” Obviously Reiner was less interested in the answer than in implanting this suggestion in the minds of the jurors. Similarly, walking the thin line between inquiry and instruction, I asked each juror: “Do you understand that the People only have the burden of proving a defendant guilty beyond a reasonable doubt; we do not have the burden of proving his guilt beyond all doubt—only a reasonable doubt?”

Initially, Older would not permit the attorneys to instruct the prospective jurors in the law. I had a number of heated discussions with him about this before he let us couch such questions in general terms. This was, I felt, an important victory. For example, I didn’t want to go through the whole trial only to have some juror decide, “We can’t convict Manson of the five Tate murders because he wasn’t there. He was back at Spahn Ranch.”

The heart of our case against Manson was the “vicarious liability” rule of conspiracy—each conspirator is criminally responsible for all the crimes committed by his co-conspirators if said crimes were committed to further the object of the conspiracy. This rule applies even if the conspirator was not present at the scene of the crime. For example: A, B, and C decide to rob a bank. A plans the robbery, B and C carry it out. Under the law, A, though he never entered the bank, is as responsible as B and C, I pointed out to the jury.

From the prosecution’s point of view, it was important that each juror understand such gut issues as reasonable doubt, conspiracy, motive, direct and circumstantial evidence, and the accomplice rule.

We hoped Judge Older would not declare Linda Kasabian an accomplice. But we were fairly sure he would,[63] in which case the defense would make much of the fact that no defendant can be convicted of any crime on the uncorroborated testimony of an accomplice. In researching the law, I found a California Supreme Court case, People vs. Wayne, in which the Court said only “slight” evidence was needed to constitute corroboration. After I brought this to Older’s attention, he permitted me to use the word “slight” in my questioning. This, too, I considered a significant victory.

Though Older had ascertained that each prospective juror could, if the evidence warranted it, vote a verdict