Chapters (81)
- Cover
- Praise for Tess Stimson
- Dedication
- part one
- chapter 01
- chapter 02
- chapter 03
- chapter 04
- chapter 05
- chapter 06
- chapter 07
- chapter 08
- chapter 09
- chapter 10
- chapter 11
- chapter 12
- chapter 13
- chapter 14
- chapter 15
- chapter 16
- chapter 17
- chapter 18
- chapter 19
- chapter 20
- chapter 21
- chapter 22
- chapter 23
- chapter 24
- chapter 25
- chapter 26
- chapter 27
- chapter 28
- chapter 29
- chapter 30
- chapter 31
- chapter 32
- chapter 33
- chapter 34
- chapter 35
- chapter 36
- part two
- chapter 37
- chapter 38
- chapter 39
- chapter 40
- chapter 41
- chapter 42
- chapter 43
- chapter 44
- chapter 45
- chapter 46
- chapter 47
- chapter 48
- chapter 49
- part three
- chapter 50
- chapter 51
- chapter 52
- chapter 53
- chapter 54
- chapter 55
- chapter 56
- chapter 57
- chapter 58
- chapter 59
- chapter 60
- chapter 61
- chapter 62
- chapter 63
- chapter 64
- chapter 65
- chapter 66
- chapter 67
- chapter 68
- part four
- chapter 69
- ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
- Keep Reading …
- About the Author
- By the same author:
- About the Publisher
Oh, you’ve all heard of him.
Of course you have. We all know who he is. Charles Manson is the man who broke into Hollywood director Roman Polanski’s house with his so-called ‘Family’ and stabbed five people to death, including Polanski’s wife, Sharon Tate, who was nearly nine months pregnant with their baby.
Except he didn’t.
Charles Manson wasn’t even there that night.
Susan Atkins, Patricia Krenwinkel and a former airline baggage handler called Tex Watson were the ones who actually invaded the Polanski house on Cielo Drive on August 9, 1969.
According to Manson’s biographer, Jeff Guinn, even as a child Manson liked to recruit gullible classmates, mostly girls, to attack other students he didn’t like.
Afterwards, he’d swear to teachers his followers were just doing what they wanted – he couldn’t be held responsible for their actions. And because no one thought a six-year-old was capable of such Machiavellian manipulation, he got away with it.
Manson was clearly a psychopath, of course.
He showed all the classic signs: a devious, manipulative personality from a very young age, total lack of empathy or remorse, callous arrogance and indifference to the suffering of others, thrill-seeking recklessness, superficial charm.
Just like me, in fact.
But what about his disciples?
Susan Atkins and Patricia Krenwinkel were just twenty-one when they cold-bloodedly stabbed a heavily pregnant woman to death as she pleaded with them to let her live long enough to give birth to her baby. Were they psychopaths, too? If these young women had never met Manson, would they have still have become killers?
Or would they have drifted along in obscurity: settled down, married, raised children, become apple-cheeked grandmas?
It’s an interesting question, isn’t it?
Unlike Manson, neither of them had shown any sociopathic tendencies before the killings. In fact, Krenwinkel had considered becoming a nun before deciding instead to attend a Jesuit college, only to drop out after one term.
Admittedly, they both came from unhappy homes, which made them vulnerable. But until they met Charles Manson, they were just sad, lonely young girls. It’s enough to send a chill down your spine, isn’t it?
What if Manson hadn’t played guitar at the house where Atkins was living with friends?
What if Krenwinkel hadn’t bumped into him at the beach and been told, for the first time in her life, that she was beautiful?
Charles Manson was a natural born killer: his life was going to erupt in violence sooner or later. But if they hadn’t met him, those young women might have gone all their lives without harming anyone.
I’m not making excuses for them, of course.
They chose to follow Manson, to join his doomsday cult, to kill without pity, without remorse, and take pleasure in it.
But to coin a phrase, some people are born psychopaths, and some have psychopathy thrust upon them.