Vick and Archie joined us at our office, with Archie saying, “I’m sorry, fellows.”
I nodded my thanks. We sat at the table while Vick brought us up to speed, which wasn’t much. He said, “The preliminary investigation shows at least five people present at the murder scene. That’s from tracks around the body. We excluded the two witnesses, a couple of teenagers who wanted to see the place where Charlie Mansion lived in the sixties.”
Archie said, “People still go out there even though nothing’s left. Do they think they’re going to sense Manson’s presence? I never understood it.”
I didn’t tell him I went out there a few years ago.
Vick continued, “Three are women, at least from the size of the tracks, and two males. There might have been another one but the investigators couldn’t be certain.” He read from his notes, “The words on the boulder, someone used a cloth dipped in the blood to do it. The writer is left-handed. That’s from forensics noticing the indicating markers studied under magnification. No epithelials other than the victim.”
I said, “Any idea how they captured him?”
“The autopsy isn’t completed, but I called and asked what they had so far. The attackers hit your friend in the back of the head using a hard cylindrical object, probably a pipe. They also beat him severely. He had hematomas and contusions on his face, head and neck, and massive hematoma on his torso from multiple blows.”
Hondo said, “So they kicked him, too.”
Vick glanced from his notes to Hondo’s face, “Yeah, the M.E. said about a hundred times.”
Archie said, “How do the messages match up with Sylvia Artell’s murder scene?”
Vick said, “We think it’s the same writer. And, the same one who murdered the musician in Topanga Canyon.”
“Damn, damn, damn,” Archie said as he shook his head. “It’s like Charlie Manson all over again.”
After we finished, Vick said, “What I shared is confidential.”
“We’re not saying anything until the S.O. releases it.”
Archie said, “It’ll explode on social media and the news sooner than that, you watch.”
Vick nodded, “That’s what we expect, too. And the wild theories will go though the roof.”
“Manson will be in the papers again.” Archie said.
Hondo and I drove home after the meeting, and both of us almost fell asleep as I drove. I said, “Keep me awake, I’m behind the wheel here.”
“You don’t need me to drive, then.”
“I need you to yell and scream stuff like ‘Oh my god we’re gonna crash!’, or ‘You’re gonna drive into a light pole!’”
He tried singing, but after twenty seconds I said, “My ears are bleeding.”
“You want me to keep you awake or not?”
“Okay, but no Kanye.”
I dropped Hondo at his place. The police departed long ago, so the only disturbance he had was neighbors parting their curtains to watch him wal
k to his door. When I pulled into my drive, Amber came out to see me, along with Bodhi. We hugged first, then went inside and sat together on the couch. Bodhi had red rimmed eyes and held a small kerchief in her hand, using it when she began weeping.
I told them a little, but not everything. Amber’s eyes were large and she looked spooked. She comforted Bodhi with an arm around her. Amber said, “What’s this all about? I saw where someone said Charles Manson escaped prison and he and his followers are targeting Los Angeles.”
“That isn’t true. Manson will never get out.”
Bodhi said, “Are they after me? Everyone they kill is close to me.”
“I don’t know. Hondo and I are working on it. So are the police.”
Amber said, “What are those messages written in blood? What do they mean?”