"Manhunt": Chapter XIII of the Barbara Graham Story

Manhunt

For the next three weeks, a vast network of police officers combed Los Angeles County for the fugitive trio. Authorities were certain they were still in the area; every bus station, train depot, and airport was being watched around the clock, and all vehicles leaving California into Nevada, Arizona, and Oregon were checked by highway patrolmen; cars crossing the Mexican border were checked by U. S. Border Patrol agents. Photos of the three suspected killers were in constant circulation, and newspapers kept the story alive. Law officers were certain that one of the three would be spotted sooner or later. And they were right.

In the end, it was Barbara Graham’s addiction to heroin that got them caught.

Three weeks after Emmett Perkins had made his unexpected visit to Dick Ruble, a policewoman working undercover for LAPD narcotics was present when Barbara Graham set up a heroin buy with a dope pusher she had used in the past. Barbara, whose hair was now bleached a dazzling blonde, and the dealer made an appointment to complete the sale in a bus depot in Huntington Park, a suburb south of Los Angeles. The undercover officer called in an urgent alert and the entire area was staked out, predominantly with female officers whom it was felt would be less suspicious to the wary murder suspect.

Barbara made her buy as arranged, and went into the ladies room to shoot up in one of the stalls. When she left the depot, three women officers, of various ages, in very different attire, followed her onto an inter-city bus, while others trailed the bus in unmarked cars, alerting other officers ahead of the bus. Barbara led them through three more south Los Angeles suburbs to Lynwood, where she entered a shabby, single-story apartment house next to a noisy tire retreading shop. It was Monday, May 4, at three o’clock in the afternoon.

Within minutes, LAPD Chief of Detectives Thad Brown, Detective Dick Ruble, and twelve other heavily armed male officers moved quietly and undetected up to the apartment door where it had been determined the trio was living. Brown, armed with a sawed-off shotgun, and Ruble, with a cocked .45 automatic, got into position and on a silent count of three slammed their shoulders against the flimsy apartment door, taking it completely off its hinges. In a combination bedroom-living room, they met no resistance at all from the surprised fugitives. In fact, they couldn’t have burst in at a more opportune time.

Barbara Graham, totally nude, straightened up in shock from an open sofa bed she had been leaning over. Jack Santo, also naked, was stretched out on the bed with an erection. Emmett Perkins, naked, was walking out of a nearby bathroom.

Chief of Detectives Brown shoved the muzzle of the shotgun roughly into Santo’s stomach, while Ruble aimed his .45 directly between the weasel eyes of his old pal, Emmett Perkins.

"Don’t shoot!" Perkins begged. "Don’t shoot, please!"

Jack Santo, who had probably just established a world record for losing an erection, glared hatefully at Chief Brown, a legendary lawman of the era.

"Want to try anything, Jack’" Brown asked quietly. "Go ahead."

Santo didn’t try anything. Barbara Graham, now held back by other officers, cringed in terror against the wall, attempting to cover her nudity. Perkins was put down on his knees, hands on his head.

"Pull your shorts on, Jack," said Thad Brown. "You’re embarrassing us."

Santo pulled on his underwear. All three were cordoned off in a corner of the room and allowed to dress in carefully examined clothing, while the rest of the grubby little apartment was being searched. As soon as the fugitives were dressed and handcuffed, officers led them out to three separate cars. No more than half a dozen passersby even noticed the scene. No media were present.

The hunt for Mabel Monohan’s suspected killers was over.