In the early morning hours of Halloween, 1968, just off the winding roads of Los Angeles ’ storied Laurel Canyon, a housekeeper entered a familiar Spanish-style villa perched discreetly behind well-manicured hedges. It was a quiet, affluent neighbourhood favoured by actors, musicians, and creatives. But inside 3110 Laurel Canyon Boulevard, something was terribly wrong. The furniture was overturned, blood stained the floor in multiple rooms, and upstairs in the master bedroom