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"You have a point. Hitmen aren't known for their classical educations. We'll stick with Dee until I think of something better."
"Charles Manson," Jack called from the kitchen. "We need details."
"Ah, so this is about the Helter Skelter killer." She turned to me. "Now there's a name. Say the words 'Helter Skelter' and everyone of a certain age immediately thinks Manson, and everything that goes with that. For a killer--"
"Yeah," Jack said, rounding the corner with the coffees. "It's about him."
"You're going after him?"
Jack passed me my mug. "Someone's gotta. Feds are clueless. They'll round up every pro...except the killer."
"From what I hear they already are, which is why I've been trying to get in touch with you for a week now. You've been ignoring me."
"Wasn't ignoring you. Busy. Setting this up."
She leaned forward. "So who's in? No, let me guess. Felix, Angel, Quinn--but only because you need him for his contacts. You didn't ask Sid and Shadow, did you?"
When Jack didn't answer, she rolled her eyes. "You did. I don't know how you can put up with those two. Not a full deck between them."
"But they're good. All that counts. Angel's out. Got picked up."
"By the police? On what charges?"
"Jaywalking."
"Don't be smart. You know what I mean. Angel's as careful as they come and if he's been charged with one of his old hits--"
"Then we're all in shit. That's the point. Now, about Manson..."
"Well, I can certainly tell you everything you need to know about Charles Manson. But if you're chasing down this alley because your killer uses a silly quote--"
"Newsweek says there's more," I said. "According to their sources, the Feds have uncovered a possible connection between the killer and Charles Manson."
Evelyn looked at Jack. "What does Quinn say?"
When Jack didn't answer, she swore under her breath. "You're investigating a case where federal investigators have an important lead, and you haven't even asked Quinn about it yet?"
"Who's--?" I began, then remembered Evelyn's list of names. "He's one of the other pros working this, right? How would he--?"
"Manson, Evelyn," Jack said. "What do you know?"
* * *
EIGHT
Charles Manson was a career criminal of the lowest order. During those rare times in his teens and twenties when the state wasn't paying his room and board, he pimped and drug-dealt his way through life. It seemed Manson never committed a crime for which he didn't do the time. You'd think these early signs of ineptitude would make a guy sit back and go, "Hmmm, maybe I'm not cut out to be a criminal mastermind after all." Apparently not.
Manson was a classic predator. He knew how to sniff out the weak and tell them what they wanted to hear. By 1969 he had over two dozen followers, most of them teenage girls. The second greatest question of loyalty after "Would you die for me?" is "Would you kill for me?" In August 1969, Manson put his followers to that test. First, four of them killed Abigail Folger, Wojciech Frykowski, Steven Parent, Sharon Tate and Jay Sebring. The next day, three killed Leno LaBianca and his wife, Rosemary. On April 17, 1971, Manson returned to jail, where he remains.
When she was done explaining, Evelyn sipped her now-cold coffee. "If I had to guess at the connection, I'd look at hero worship."
"I hope by 'hero' you don't mean Manson," I said.
"Even after all these years, Charles Manson receives more mail than any inmate in the system. At the time of the crimes, it was even worse. Some underground papers hailed him as a revolutionary, a martyr of the people and for the people. A cult of Manson still exists today, if you know where to look for it."
"You think one of them--?"
Evelyn cut me short with a wave. "No, no. Losers and lunatics."
