FOLLOW THE LEADER - Chapter 38

 Chapter 38 

“That is such bullshit!” Terry said.  “You’re taking Katherine’s old man who is grieving and doesn’t want to go, instead of me. I’m your assistant, remember?”  She was in a snit, pacing back in forth in our tiny office.

What could I say? I was not about to tell her what Agent Thornhill told me: “She’ll be too busy checking out her phone.”

“Okay, I see your point,” I said. Lame.

“So why take him instead of me?”

Why indeed? It was a good question. Finally I said: “I’m taking Rollins because he has history in Death Valley. Or, to be precise: Furnace Creek.”

“But I’ll see everything with fresh eyes, dude.”

“So will I. I’ve never been there. I need you to keep gathering information so that—”

“Really? Why can’t I gather information in the field?”

“You could. Can. But not this time.”

“This sucks.”

“Maybe it sucks, but you work for me and I’m telling you I need you to stay here. It’s not like your ass will be glued to your desk chair. You can take breaks, go somewhere to eat or whatever. You’ve got it made, Terry. You don’t put in eight hours, like some assistants. And I give you spending money. In hard cash. Okay, it’s not a salary and it’s not much. On the other hand, you’re rent is a joke. It’s practically free.”

Her expression changed. The pout was gone. She eyed me warily.

“How do you get the money to pay me?  For that matter, how can you exist without a job? You’re not on food stamps, right? You don’t get welfare checks. Or do you?”

Tell her something.

“I came into some money after I got out of stir. And no, I didn’t rob a bank.”

“But your friend did.”

Close. But Teddy never hit banks.

“Wrong. Now let’s drop the subject. And I would appreciate it if you never brought it up again.”

“Fine. Whatever.”

She pulled out a pack of Winstons and went outside, slamming the door behind her.

I didn’t like Terry prying into my private life. But I didn’t blame her for being curious. Hell, I was curious about hers.  She was a night owl. What had she been doing all those nights I was snoring away?  She never talked about sex, which made me wonder. Had she been doing tricks for money?  Early on I concluded that she was a transsexual and still in the closet. Beyond that, I didn’t care. As long as she didn’t come on to me or steal stuff.

I got up and pulled out two beers from the fridge and brought them to the front door and stuck my head out.

“Want a cold one?”

She hesitated.

“Sure.”

“My bad for being a jerk.  C’mon inside.”

She did. 

Two Anchor Steams later she finally seemed convinced that she could be a valuable go-to gal by staying put. A liaison. That said, I was sure that she would rather go with us than stay home.

I said,  “Now let’s get back to the subject at hand: Mr. Charles Manson.”

In the old days (my days), most guys would pull out a notebook. Terry typed a key and brought up a “file,” which she opened.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” I said.

“How about a question?”

“Shoot.”

“How do the initials on the bodies tie into Manson and his “family?”

“I don’t know.”

We sat there and thought about it for a bit.

She must have seen my eyes light up.

“What?” she asked.

“We know the initials are not those of the victims.’ What if they referred to his family?”

“Hm. Could be. Except—”

“Except what?” I asked.

“Manson’s followers are spread out. As far down as Spahn Ranch in L.A.”

“True. But what if the leader of the Death Valley bunch is playing games with us? He wants to spotlight four of Manson’s family. He chooses those four because…”

“They’re the ones we know about.” Terry said. “It figures that he would pick the most famous members.”

“Whoa. Very good.”

Terry stood up and took a bow.

 “It would be those who were involved in Sharon Tate’s murder.  Makes sense. Let’s try it out: The initials T W on the cowboy’s body refer to… Tex Watson?”

“Yup. According to Helter-Skelter, he was the leader that night.”

We quickly went through the initials, but got stuck on LK. The very same initials found on Katherine Rollins’ right hip.

Terry went on line.

I looked over her shoulder.

“What’s this?” I asked.

“A brand new site called Wikipedia.”

“Linda Kasabian,” I read aloud.

“Look. It says here, she never went into the Tate house that night.” 

“Interesting.”

“Maybe she was a look-out,” Terry said.

“Maybe. Or maybe Manson picked the wrong girl for the job. I mean, why not pick Lynette ‘Squeaky’ Fromme?”

Terry drew a blank.

“The one who tried to kill President Ford,” I said. “She was more famous than any of them.”

“Dunno,” she admitted.

“The fact is Linda Kasabian was there that night, which might explain why the killer used her initials. But I suspect that these crazies have a leader.  Someone who decided all on his own that there should be an homage to Charles Manson and his family members who did the Tate-LaBianca killings. And I suspect it’s a man. An angry egotist. Someone who wants to play the puppet master. And he’s much more careful than Manson was. Manson told Tex Watson and the girls to kill everybody inside those two houses. But then he didn’t stick around to supervise. Which explained the chaos.”

“But why did Manson pick them?” Terry asked. 

“Maybe he knew that they would be easy for Tex Watson to control. Remember, his first choice was a gang of angry black guys who were supposed to start a revolution. Them against the Pigs.”

“That is hella crazy.”

“Totally nuts,” I said.

“And what about our Death Valley guy—Mr. X? What is motive for all this?”

“ I think he wants to tease the cops and the feds. Make ‘em revisit Manson and his crimes. It’s his way of celebrating the killers’—what’s the word?”

“Notoriety?”

“Thank you.”

“But all of his so-called brands or initials are based on someone making their connection to Manson.”

“Do you think these girls were alive when they were branded?”

“No.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I’m going to give Mr. X the benefit of the doubt. Every man has at least one sliver of good in him. Maybe X doesn’t torture his victims.”

She seemed skeptical of that.

 I said, “It’s known that Manson would never kill someone’s pet animal.  And I’ve heard that even Adolf Hitler liked dogs and was kind to them.”

“But this guy uses birds and rabbits for target practice.”

“That’s not the same as torture.”

“No,” she agreed.