2nd Official Tate-LaBianca Murders Blog

THE SECOND COMING Turning and turning in the widening gyre The falcon cannot hear the falconer Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere The ceremony of innocence is drowned The best lack all conviction, while the worst Are full of passionate intensity Surely some revelation is at hand Surely the Second Coming is at hand… And what rough beast, its hour come round at last, Slouches toward Bethlehem to be born? William Butler Yeats (1865-1939) The House on the Hill, as I like to refer to the LaBianca residence, sat quiet, still on this late summer's night, despite the curtains not being drawn and lamp light illuminating front room. It was sometime after 2 a.m. The day previous for the LaBianca's included a long two and a half drive. Leno, Rosemary, and her daughter Suzan, returned to Los Angeles in Leno's 1968 Ford Thunderbird, with a pleasure boat in tow, from a brief stay ...

Leslie and Katie made their way through the unlocked French door and were met by the oh, so large but friendly LaBianca dog. They saw Tex standing guard over Leno who was still seated in the couch. Tex's trusty bayonet was pointed at Leno's throat. The trio headed for the kitchen to plan the evening's actions. They talked in whispers not entirely unheard. "You and Leslie go into the bedroom where the woman is and I'll deal with the guy." "Are we supposed to kill her?" asked Katie, knowing full well what the answer would be. "Yes." Leno obviously overheard and called out. "What? What are you going to do? I'll give you whatever you want!" Leno knew now this was going to be more than a mere robbery. He attempted to rise from the sofa, his wrists still bound behind his back with Charlie's leather thongs. Tex saw Leno struggle to rise. Like Jay Sebring the night before, Leno was becoming more of a hassle than he was worth. B...