Speaker 1: Blood on the Tracks is the production of I Heart
Speaker 1: Radio and Double Elvis. Phil Spector was a musical genius,
Speaker 1: one of the most successful record producers of all time.
Speaker 1: He's now sitting behind bars, serving a nineteen years to
Speaker 1: life sentence for murder. This is his story told by
Speaker 1: his so called friends. This is a Special Agent Paul
Speaker 1: Ramon with the Federal Bureau of Investigation, working case number
Speaker 1: double oh four Dash ten DAS seven one nine, case
Speaker 1: subject as Specter Philip Harvey. This information pertains to a
Speaker 1: period ending February third, two thousand three. Interview subject as
Speaker 1: Clarkson Lana Interview number three Dash four six STAPH two
Speaker 1: oh five Dash seven six six Spirit Confessional Recall number
Speaker 1: nine October one. I didn't even know him. I didn't
Speaker 1: know him at all. I mean I got to know
Speaker 1: him a little. I got to know what he wanted
Speaker 1: me to know. I was on a need to know
Speaker 1: basis with fell Specter. He was in control of his
Speaker 1: own narrative. It was just the two of us, the
Speaker 1: two of us in the middle of the night, in
Speaker 1: his car, in his castle. We had just met for
Speaker 1: the first time and the last time. Some would say
Speaker 1: he told me too much Others would say he didn't
Speaker 1: tell me enough. Some would say I shouldn't have gone
Speaker 1: with him. Others would say I did the right thing.
Speaker 1: But no one knows. Really, no one really knows what
Speaker 1: went down that night besides me and Phil. The only
Speaker 1: thing everyone else was pretty too was the blood. The
Speaker 1: blood on the chair, the blood on the stairs, the
Speaker 1: blood before before, and the trach Chapter nine, Phil Specter
Speaker 1: and Lana Clarkson. I didn't know who he was at first.
Speaker 1: I thought he was one of those guys who walks
Speaker 1: into the place after midnight, some bimbo on his arm,
Speaker 1: slip someone a fifty dollar bill, tries to get a table,
Speaker 1: acts like he owns the place, but clearly doesn't own
Speaker 1: the place. He's not even a member, just some schmo
Speaker 1: trying to impress the gold digger by his side, bad hairpiece,
Speaker 1: wearing dark sunglasses inside at one am, drunk like it's
Speaker 1: the first time in his life he's been drunk, dumb
Speaker 1: grin on his face, a JABRONI So I didn't let
Speaker 1: him through. The Foundation room at the House of Blues
Speaker 1: is strictly members only, and that's a annual feet right.
Speaker 1: I didn't know this guy from Adam I've never seen him.
Speaker 1: He wasn't getting past me. I had been the hostess
Speaker 1: at the House of Blues on the Strip for a while,
Speaker 1: longer than I would have liked to admit, to be honest,
Speaker 1: so I knew all the regulars. I made the daily
Speaker 1: commute from my place in Venice. Shifts usually ran from
Speaker 1: six at night till two in the morning. It was
Speaker 1: a gig to fill in the gaps, unnecessary evil, something
Speaker 1: to earn some steady cash while I continued busting my
Speaker 1: ass with casting calls and auditions and grabbing whatever roles
Speaker 1: I could grab. I was forty. It's not like I
Speaker 1: was all washed up, far from it. But I found
Speaker 1: myself in a valley at the time, a valley in
Speaker 1: the natural ebb and flow of an actor's professional life.
Speaker 1: And when you find yourself in a valley, you scramble
Speaker 1: and do what you gotta do to pull yourself back
Speaker 1: out find that next mountain. Every actor needs to side
Speaker 1: hustle every now and then. This particular side hustle was
Speaker 1: a humbling experience and occasionally humiliating. I was waiting on
Speaker 1: high rollers A level types, B level types, the kind
Speaker 1: of Hollywood player who could afford to shell out an
Speaker 1: annual feat just to walk into the joint. And so
Speaker 1: other actors would show up to the foundation room, actors
Speaker 1: who had beat me out for this role or that role,
Speaker 1: and I had to seat them, show them to their table,
Speaker 1: wait on them. I hated that moment, that moment when
Speaker 1: the person I was about to see would put their
Speaker 1: hand gently on my arm and patronizingly say, hey, aren't
Speaker 1: you Lana Clarkson? And not because they had seen me
Speaker 1: in Barbarian Queen either Verian queen. No man can touch
Speaker 1: her naked steel. It wasn't the recognition that a fan
Speaker 1: has when they meet a star. It was the recognition
Speaker 1: that a winner has when they run into a loser.
Speaker 1: So there, I was not wanting to get recognized by
Speaker 1: all the wrong people, and it turns out I wasn't
Speaker 1: recognizing the right people. I was ready to toss this
Speaker 1: guy out on his ass, wipe the shit eating grin
Speaker 1: right off his little Lord fauntleroy face. He asked to
Speaker 1: speak to a manager. One of the waitresses happened to
Speaker 1: be walking by at that moment and saw what was
Speaker 1: going on. She pulled me aside. Don't you know who
Speaker 1: that is, she whispered. I shook my head. Phil Specter
Speaker 1: didn't ring a bowl. The record producer still nothing to do.
Speaker 1: Run Run guy walks around his castle in Alhambra in
Speaker 1: the dark, wearing up Batman on costume. I had heard
Speaker 1: about that. It was in some Time magazine article or something.
Speaker 1: Then the waitress started to hum the melody of that song,
Speaker 1: and it clicked. I turned to face the man I
Speaker 1: was about to send back into the street, menus in hand,
Speaker 1: Mr Specter, I said, my apologies. I almost didn't recognize
Speaker 1: you this way to your table. My face must have
Speaker 1: been beat red. I wanted to go crawl back into
Speaker 1: the kitchen, find a stainless steel table to hide under,
Speaker 1: and just die. Oh the woman he was with, she
Speaker 1: had that hospitality industry look like she had just worked
Speaker 1: a grueling, demeaning shift already that night and now was
Speaker 1: being taken out on the town by some guy who
Speaker 1: barely knew her. I called him like, I saw, whether
Speaker 1: you're an actress or a hostess, you get good at
Speaker 1: that sort of thing in the thick of the Hollywood jungle.
Speaker 1: She just gave me one of those half smiles, the
Speaker 1: kind that simultaneously says thank you and fuck you. When
Speaker 1: they sat down, I could tell there was trouble in
Speaker 1: paradise already. They weren't really talking that much to each other.
Speaker 1: His eyes would follow me every time I walked by,
Speaker 1: and I didn't know if it was because he thought
Speaker 1: I was an idiot for not recognizing him, or if
Speaker 1: he was turned on by the fact that I didn't
Speaker 1: recognize him. I'd find out soon enough. He ordered a
Speaker 1: Bacardi and she had a glass of water that really
Speaker 1: set him off. He was there to drink, to get
Speaker 1: shitty and have a good time, and it pissed him
Speaker 1: off that woman on his arm would rather be back
Speaker 1: home in deep blissful sleep than tie one on with him.
Speaker 1: He started to yell at her, loud enough that we
Speaker 1: could all hear him. He was like, get a fucking drink,
Speaker 1: and she just waved him off like he was a
Speaker 1: fruit fly trying to land on the rim of her glass.
Speaker 1: It wasn't too long after he raised his voice that
Speaker 1: his driver showed up at the hostess stand. He said
Speaker 1: Mr Specter asked him to take his date home, but
Speaker 1: Mr Specter was going to stay a little longer. After
Speaker 1: his date was gladly chaperone outside. He tried to order
Speaker 1: more drinks, but the guy was so drunk and it
Speaker 1: was at least two, if not later, and we had
Speaker 1: to wrap it up. He paid for the eight dollar
Speaker 1: BICCARDI and the five dollar water and left a tip
Speaker 1: that was like four hundred bucks, and then he asked
Speaker 1: me to join him for a drink as I was
Speaker 1: walking by his table again after he had already been
Speaker 1: told the bar was closed. At first, I thought he
Speaker 1: was just working in an angle to get another drink,
Speaker 1: that maybe if he could convince one of the staff
Speaker 1: members to join him, the taps would flow for him
Speaker 1: once more. So I sat down with him for a moment.
Speaker 1: He asked me to accompany him back to his place
Speaker 1: in Alhambra, his castle, as he put it, I politely declined,
Speaker 1: a guy who walks around in the dark with a
Speaker 1: batman costume wants me to come over, and what do
Speaker 1: I play? Catwoman or maybe poison ivy? No, thank you.
Speaker 1: I hardly knew the guy. I wasn't about to get
Speaker 1: myself too deep, but he was persistent. He kept asking,
Speaker 1: I kept declining, and then he compromised. He asked if
Speaker 1: he could drive me to my car. Well, actually, if
Speaker 1: his driver could drive me to my car, you know.
Speaker 1: Once he was back from dropping off the date at
Speaker 1: her place, we got in the elevator together. He turned
Speaker 1: his head slightly towards me and said, I bet you
Speaker 1: won't forget me again. He was buying time. He was
Speaker 1: going to try to butter me up in his car,
Speaker 1: get me to change my mind about going to his place.
Speaker 1: I said to myself, Laana, get in his car and
Speaker 1: see how you feel in a few minutes. Maybe turn
Speaker 1: this humdrum night sating aless clientele on the strip on
Speaker 1: its ear. Maybe maybe not. It was close to two
Speaker 1: thirty am when I clocked out of the House of
Speaker 1: Blues and followed Phil into the cool evening air. My
Speaker 1: mind was not made up yet. I was always in
Speaker 1: the background, a face in the crowd, always walking on
Speaker 1: screen just to walk off. Sometimes the roles were minor.
Speaker 1: Fast times at Ridgemond High was like that. I had
Speaker 1: a line at least High that was the line. There
Speaker 1: were no lines in scarface. Scarface was minor, minor. I'm
Speaker 1: there for a second or two, helping to fill the
Speaker 1: frame as part of the ensemble, and then I'm gone.
Speaker 1: The bigger rules were always the lower profile pictures, the
Speaker 1: Roger Corman stuff, the ones where I was a buxom
Speaker 1: warrior and a fur leotard doing the female cone in
Speaker 1: the Barbarian thing, I'll be No Man's Slave and no
Speaker 1: Man's horror zena Lucy Lawless. They were all inspired by
Speaker 1: that one. I like to think I paved the way
Speaker 1: in a cult classic kind of way. I never got
Speaker 1: used to the nudity. I always felt it was beneath me.
Speaker 1: But it was a boy's town and a boy's game,
Speaker 1: and I did what I had to do to move forward.
Speaker 1: But I never took any ship from anyone. These nude
Speaker 1: publicity shots of me wound up in some paper in
Speaker 1: San Francisco, and I lost it. I went right to
Speaker 1: Roger Corman himself and demanded to know what the hell
Speaker 1: was the big idea. He took me to the publicity
Speaker 1: department so that I could bear witness to his verbal
Speaker 1: eat down. See. I admired a classier Hollywood than the
Speaker 1: Hollywood of the nineteen eighties. I'm talking Marilyn Monroe, Jane Mansfield.
Speaker 1: I met Lana Turner, once the epitome of Hollywood class.
Speaker 1: Of course, she's the actress I'm named after. We both
Speaker 1: had the same hairdresser, so we were introduced sometime in
Speaker 1: the early eighties before I had landed much of anything.
Speaker 1: That Lana hadn't acted in years, but she still carried
Speaker 1: herself like a star, the glow, the ploise, the class.
Speaker 1: I like to think I inherited more than a name,
Speaker 1: that I took on the whole aura of a golden age,
Speaker 1: a bygone era. Maybe that's what Phil saw in me
Speaker 1: that night. Maybe I was an echo to Phil, something
Speaker 1: that called out to him from Afar, something that brought
Speaker 1: him back to a place that he never wanted to leave.
Speaker 1: The more he talked to me in the car on
Speaker 1: the ride back to his place in Alhambra, the more
Speaker 1: I learned that he was a soul that was stuck
Speaker 1: in time. His head was in the sixties. Time kept
Speaker 1: pushing ahead, but Phil didn't go along for that ride.
Speaker 1: He was a mono man living in a quadraphonic world.
Speaker 1: Hang on, I should explain. You're probably thinking, wait, she
Speaker 1: told him she wasn't going home with him. I changed
Speaker 1: my mind. I did accept the invitation to go back
Speaker 1: to his castle. After all, he was relentless. What can
Speaker 1: I say he made me an offer I couldn't refuse.
Speaker 1: When we left the House of Blues, Phil was walking
Speaker 1: like a slow motion pinball, banging around a machine. He
Speaker 1: was feeling no pain, I'll put it that way. I
Speaker 1: helped him into the Mercedes and his driver Adriana, this
Speaker 1: real nice kid. He helped him get inside the back seat.
Speaker 1: Inside the car, he invited me. He begged me to
Speaker 1: come home with him a few more times. The third
Speaker 1: time he asked me, right as we were pulling up
Speaker 1: to my parked car, is the moment I changed my mind?
Speaker 1: What's the worst that could happen? Right? Because at first
Speaker 1: his stick was a little endearing. He seemed to really
Speaker 1: want my company. I couldn't really tell if it was
Speaker 1: a romantic thing or not. I think he just didn't
Speaker 1: want to be alone. I knew I was the third
Speaker 1: woman he'd been with that night. He told me that
Speaker 1: he'd been all over l A, spent hours haunting this
Speaker 1: place in that place. Dinner during X he told me
Speaker 1: what they'd eaten and how nothing was really going the
Speaker 1: way he wanted. The other women weren't good company, but
Speaker 1: he could tell I was good company. That was the
Speaker 1: kind of minimal flattery he offered up during the thirty
Speaker 1: minute ride from Hollywood to Alhambra. We took the one
Speaker 1: oh one to the ten. It was so late the
Speaker 1: traffic wasn't a complete nuisance. The talk quickly turned to
Speaker 1: Phil just talking about Phil. It was either because he
Speaker 1: was extremely intoxicated, or he was nervous, or perhaps he'd
Speaker 1: just liked to talk about himself. He was intrigued that
Speaker 1: I didn't know much about him, and he wanted to
Speaker 1: give me a Phil Specter crash course right there in
Speaker 1: the car. Huh, Phil Specter one oh one. On the
Speaker 1: one oh one. He told me about the Righteous Brothers,
Speaker 1: about the Beatles, and John and George, about Agantina, about
Speaker 1: the Romans. But he didn't talk about them as if
Speaker 1: they were his friends. I don't even know that he
Speaker 1: looked back on his time with any of them fondly.
Speaker 1: He talked about them, to talk about them, to name drop.
Speaker 1: He told me he recorded Elvis and that the Beach
Speaker 1: Boys wouldn't have been the Beach Boys without him, that
Speaker 1: modern pop music as we know it would have ceased
Speaker 1: to exist. The more he talked, the more the initial
Speaker 1: appeal of his personality started to wear thin. I wondered
Speaker 1: if I had made a mistake after all. And then
Speaker 1: he told me about his castle. He didn't call it
Speaker 1: a house or even a mansion. It was his castle.
Speaker 1: He said, you gotta see it, you know, just wait
Speaker 1: to see. He was trying to explain the architecture and
Speaker 1: a staircase in something about suits of armor. That's the
Speaker 1: part when I wondered if he had drifted off into
Speaker 1: loopy land talking about suits of armor, like who the
Speaker 1: fox has suits of armor at their house. The more
Speaker 1: he described his place, the more I thought I was
Speaker 1: walking into a droopy dog cartoon. We drove through the
Speaker 1: suburbia of Alhambra, you know, the strip malls, the bungalows.
Speaker 1: It was a sleepy place, a sleepy place, especially so
Speaker 1: late at night. But there was really nothing to write
Speaker 1: home about there. I actually caught myself wondering what it
Speaker 1: was about the place he liked so much. We got
Speaker 1: to these huge iron gates, so big that Adriano had
Speaker 1: to get out of the car and push them open
Speaker 1: with his bare hands. We drove up further through the trees,
Speaker 1: like we were headed into a jungle. There was a
Speaker 1: gradual incline and then it cleared, and there was this
Speaker 1: amazing water fountain, and there it was Phills home, the castle.
Speaker 1: It was incredible. In the darkness, I could only wonder
Speaker 1: what it looked like. In the light, you could see
Speaker 1: everything from up there, the whole damn town. You could
Speaker 1: probably see even right down into l A if you
Speaker 1: looked hard enough. But I didn't want to look around
Speaker 1: at the floor and fauna at three o'clock in the morning.
Speaker 1: I wanted to see if his castle was everything Phil
Speaker 1: had made it out to be. We'll be right back
Speaker 1: after this word word word. I didn't know there was
Speaker 1: a gun until we got inside. There were many guns inside, actually,
Speaker 1: But you know that, don't you. You would think that
Speaker 1: a guy who had so many guns and is so
Speaker 1: in love with guns would have actually said something about
Speaker 1: it on that thirty minute drive. You've got to think
Speaker 1: that the subject of guns was somewhere in his mind
Speaker 1: at the time, that it was always on his mind.
Speaker 1: He didn't utter one word about his collection of firearms
Speaker 1: as we rode to his place. Looking back, that was
Speaker 1: a red flag. God, I was so naive about the
Speaker 1: whole thing. However, I'll admit I was more than a
Speaker 1: bit star struck in the moment star struck in a
Speaker 1: little drunk the tequila and vikd in combo offered some
Speaker 1: smooth sailing on the stranger danger front. It's not like
Speaker 1: I hadn't been in the presence of top shelf celebrity before.
Speaker 1: I'd hung out with Jack Nicholson, Warrened Batty don Henley.
Speaker 1: But this this was different. This was a whole other
Speaker 1: level of spectacle, the pageantry of it, the bravado. It
Speaker 1: was this giant French chet To style manifestation of Phil's ego.
Speaker 1: I don't think I had missed Betty go from the
Speaker 1: moment he walked up to the hostess stand at the
Speaker 1: House of Blues to the moment he asked me to
Speaker 1: come home with him to all the cliff notes war stories.
Speaker 1: He told me in the car, let's just say, if
Speaker 1: his house had been any smaller, I would have been disappointed.
Speaker 1: But this thing didn't disappoint. Turrets spires. There was an
Speaker 1: outdoor terrace on top of the thing. As we stepped
Speaker 1: out of the car, Phil took a cue from my
Speaker 1: gasps and comments and told me he had bought it
Speaker 1: from one point one million, just like five years ago.
Speaker 1: He threw that number out there in a way. He
Speaker 1: threw out references to the Beatles and Elvis Presley. He
Speaker 1: wanted to make sure you were still paying attention, you know,
Speaker 1: paying attention to the biggest fucking deal in the room,
Speaker 1: fucking Bill Specter. He told me they called it the
Speaker 1: Pyrenees Castle. Some guy from France built it in the twenties.
Speaker 1: His voice was slurred as he told me all of this.
Speaker 1: I had to help him walk, especially up the dramatic
Speaker 1: stairs that led to the front door. I told Adriano
Speaker 1: I had it under control. I had made that co dependent,
Speaker 1: drunken walk up a flight of stairs many a time,
Speaker 1: Thank you very much. And so he drove the car
Speaker 1: around back where Phil liked it. Phil pushed open the
Speaker 1: wide front doors, and it was like we were stepping
Speaker 1: back in time. The place certainly hadn't been updated to
Speaker 1: reflect any sort of two thousand three aesthetic. There was
Speaker 1: a marble foyer, crystal chandeliers, a bunch of outdated red
Speaker 1: carpet that ran up the staircase. There was a Picasso
Speaker 1: sketch next to a John Lennon sketch. There wasn't one
Speaker 1: suit of armor. There were two suits of armor, just
Speaker 1: propped up on either side of a doorway. I have
Speaker 1: expected the things to come to life and chase me
Speaker 1: around the place. He told me there were nine bedrooms,
Speaker 1: ten bathrooms, but it was just him living there, just
Speaker 1: him adrift in all this space. Don't you get lonely
Speaker 1: here all by yourself? I asked him. I probably asked
Speaker 1: him three or four more times. Every time I asked him,
Speaker 1: I saw him wins a little, like the idea of
Speaker 1: loneliness hurt him, but it was obviously his reality. Damn.
Speaker 1: He shook off the questions by just rattling off more
Speaker 1: details about the place. Did I know there was a
Speaker 1: wet bar there and a hair salon? Not one but
Speaker 1: two kitchens. We drank some more, fumbled around some more.
Speaker 1: Phil didn't stop talking, and then at some point he said,
Speaker 1: take a look at this. He had opened the drawer
Speaker 1: of a dresser in the foyer. There was a gun
Speaker 1: in it. He asked me if I liked guns, asked
Speaker 1: me if I ever shot a gun. He pulled the
Speaker 1: gun out of the drawer and started to play around
Speaker 1: with it. It was small, a revolver. He spun it
Speaker 1: around and flipped it over like it was hot to
Speaker 1: the touch didn't really look like he knew what he
Speaker 1: was going. I had no idea at the time, no
Speaker 1: idea that he had pulled a gun on Debbie Harry,
Speaker 1: that he pulled a gun on the Ramans, he shot
Speaker 1: a gun at John Lennon, that he locked his wife
Speaker 1: in a closet, that he held Leonard Cohen and many
Speaker 1: others hostage in his own house. I didn't know any
Speaker 1: of those things. I was fully out of that loop.
Speaker 1: I had no idea. I was yet another in a
Speaker 1: long line of unsuspecting visitors to Phil's house or studio
Speaker 1: who got a pistol shoved in their face. I don't
Speaker 1: think that either of us knew that I would be
Speaker 1: the last. The last time I saw Phil Specter, he
Speaker 1: was holding a little revolver up to my face. He
Speaker 1: had to reach to up there. I was so tall
Speaker 1: and he was so short. He was holding a little
Speaker 1: revolver up to my face and daring me to kiss it.
Speaker 1: February three, two thousand three, Grand View Avenue, Alhambra, California.
Speaker 1: It was around five in the morning when Adriana to
Speaker 1: Susa heard the pot. He was sitting in the driver's
Speaker 1: seat of a black Mercedes Limo parked around the back
Speaker 1: of the Pyrenees Castle, eight thousand, seven hundred square foot
Speaker 1: Alhambra home that offered a bird's eye view of the
Speaker 1: San Gabriel Valley from the top its isolated no Both
Speaker 1: the Mercedes and the castle belonged to Adriana's boss, Phil Specter.
Speaker 1: The sound made Adriana nervous. It was loud and came
Speaker 1: out of nowhere to disrupt the idyllic pre don com.
Speaker 1: It was too loud to be a plate hitting the
Speaker 1: kitchen floor, too intense to be a slam door. Adriana
Speaker 1: was equally nervous because he wasn't Phil's regular driver. He
Speaker 1: was the filling guy. Dylan was the regular driver, but
Speaker 1: it was Dylan's night off. Adriana was in the US
Speaker 1: on a student visa from Brazil and picked up the
Speaker 1: part time gig for some easy cash. For the most part,
Speaker 1: it was a cush gig. Sometimes it even seemed too easy.
Speaker 1: Adriana spent a small percentage of every pinch, hit shift anxious, Anxious.
Speaker 1: It's something off, something bad would happen on his night,
Speaker 1: on his watch. It would be just as luck and
Speaker 1: the evening had been exceptionally busy. Adriana had driven Phil
Speaker 1: all over l a first of Beverly Hills with Ronnie Davis,
Speaker 1: someone Phil new from high school. They aided a place
Speaker 1: called Grill on the Alley. That was around seven pm.
Speaker 1: After dinner, Phil had Adriano driving Roni home and returned
Speaker 1: to the Grill, where Phil asked the waitress Cathy Sullivan,
Speaker 1: to hit the town with him. Adriano drove them to
Speaker 1: Trader Vix and then to Dan Tanna's. Phil had drinks
Speaker 1: at each stopped, and by the time they got to
Speaker 1: their third location, the House of Blues on the Sunset Strip,
Speaker 1: Phil was slurring his words. It was around three am
Speaker 1: when Adriana returned to the alha Ro Castle with Phil's
Speaker 1: new acquaintance, Lana Clarkson in tone. After Lana helped Phil
Speaker 1: wobble up the steps and into the house, Adriano parked
Speaker 1: the Mercedes out back and debated, allowing himself to catch
Speaker 1: a few winks before he was needed again. The sound
Speaker 1: from inside the house said five am, snapped Adriana to attention.
Speaker 1: There was no way he was catching even a few winks.
Speaker 1: After that sound, it popped. It was loud. Something was wrong,
Speaker 1: Something was off. Adriana opened the door of the Mercedes
Speaker 1: and stepped outside. It was cold, out, cold for Alaha
Speaker 1: run in February, at least above forty degrees. Adriana could
Speaker 1: see the breath escape from his mouth. He rubbed his
Speaker 1: hands together to maintain the warm feeling of the limo's
Speaker 1: climate controlled interior, and for a moment he heard nothing more.
Speaker 1: Nothing followed the dramatic sound, just the hush sounds of
Speaker 1: the world slowly coming to life for another day. Maybe
Speaker 1: he had imagined the whole thing. And then the back
Speaker 1: door of the castle flung open. Some birds in a
Speaker 1: nearby tree were startled and flapped away. Phil Specter tumbled
Speaker 1: out of the castle. His eyes were wide, his face
Speaker 1: frozen in shock and confusion. He was still dressed in
Speaker 1: the same clothes from the night before, and Adriana wondered
Speaker 1: if he was still drunk. As Phil got closer, Adriana
Speaker 1: saw the revolver and fills right hand. He saw the blood.
Speaker 1: Adriana looked past Phil through the open door and saw
Speaker 1: the woman who just hours before had been in the limo.
Speaker 1: Lana Clarkson, slumped on top of a chair in the foyer,
Speaker 1: Her blonde hair hung in the air. Her long legs
Speaker 1: were sharp and us Phil got closer to Adriano, who
Speaker 1: stood still halfway between the Mercedes and the castle. Phil
Speaker 1: looked at him dead in the eye. At first he
Speaker 1: said nothing, just the thousand yard dead eyes stare, and
Speaker 1: then he made a confession, I think I killed somebody.
Speaker 1: Adriano stood and shocked. He wasn't sure that he had
Speaker 1: heard what he thought he had heard. Had he heard
Speaker 1: a gunshot? Did Phil Specter just confessed to murder? What happened?
Speaker 1: Sir Adriano asked filled an answer. He didn't make a sound.
Speaker 1: All he did was calmly shrug his shoulders, and then
Speaker 1: he turned around to direct the thousand yard dead eye
Speaker 1: stare back into the house and at Lana Clarkson's body.
Speaker 1: Detective Mark Lillian Fields, half of David, the one he
Speaker 1: filed with the Los Angeles Sheriff's Department, gave a vivid
Speaker 1: account of the scene the first responders found inside the
Speaker 1: ostentatious home. The victim, Lana Clarkson, was slumped in a
Speaker 1: chair in the foyer. She was dressed in black. Her
Speaker 1: leopard print herst dangled from her limbs shoulder she had
Speaker 1: a single gunshot to her mouth. Broken teeth were strewn
Speaker 1: on the floor of the foyer and even made their
Speaker 1: way onto the stairway. Nearby. Under Lana's leg was a
Speaker 1: thirty eight caliber Colt Revolver blue steel. Of the six
Speaker 1: possible shots in the weapon, five of them still had
Speaker 1: live AMMO locked and loaded, but the sixth was spent.
Speaker 1: All signs pointed to one conclusion. The police investigation, the
Speaker 1: coroner's report, the testimony of Adriana to Susan and others,
Speaker 1: and then throwing a quick examination of the host character,
Speaker 1: his love of gunplay, the wild ways in which he
Speaker 1: carried himself, his history of physical and emotional abuse. All
Speaker 1: signs pointed to Phil Specta, that famed record producer and
Speaker 1: infamous recluse whose life was now spattered with blood. Everyone
Speaker 1: was privy to it. The blood on his chair, the
Speaker 1: blood on his stairs, the blood on the floor of
Speaker 1: his foyer, and the blood on the tracks. This episode
Speaker 1: of Blood on the Tracks is brought to you by
Speaker 1: seven Club, a podcast that I host on musicians who
Speaker 1: died at the age of seven. Season two, featuring Jim Morrison,
Speaker 1: is now available, as is season one, with twelve episodes
Speaker 1: featuring Jimmy Hendrix, Subscribe to The Seven Club on Apple podcast,
Speaker 1: I Heart Radio app, or wherever you get your podcasts,
Speaker 1: and of course, this episode was also brought to you
Speaker 1: by Disgrace Land, the award winning music and true crime
Speaker 1: podcast also hosted by Years Truly. Episodes on The Rolling Stones,
Speaker 1: Jerry Lewis, Cardi b, The Grateful Dead, j Z Prince,
Speaker 1: and many many more are all waiting for you right now.
Speaker 1: Just search Disgrace Land on Apple podcast, the I Heart
Speaker 1: Radio app, or wherever you get your podcast all right.
Speaker 1: This episode of Blood on the Tracks was written by
Speaker 1: Zeth Lundi and scored in mixed by Matt Boden, Hosted
Speaker 1: by me Jake Brennan. Additional music and score elements by
Speaker 1: Ryan's Breaker and Henry Juneta. This episode featured Ruby Rose
Speaker 1: fox Is Lama Clark's Blood on the Tracks is produced
Speaker 1: by myself for Double Elvis and partnership with I Heart Radio.
Speaker 1: Sources for this episode are available at Double Elvis dot
Speaker 1: com on the Blood on the Tracks series page. If
Speaker 1: you like it, you hear, please be sure to subscribe
Speaker 1: the Blood on the Tracks on Apple podcast, I Heart
Speaker 1: Radio app, wherever you get your podcasts and if you'd
Speaker 1: like to win a free Blood on the Tracks poster
Speaker 1: designed by Nate Gonzalez, and leave a review for Blood
Speaker 1: on the Tracks on Apple podcast. You can hashtag Blood
Speaker 1: on the Tracks on social media. Leave your review there
Speaker 1: and we'll pick two winners each week and announced them
Speaker 1: on the Double Elvis Instagram page. That's at Double Elvis.
Speaker 1: Go ahead and give that a follow, all right. As always,
Speaker 1: you can find me blabbing about other crazy rock stars
Speaker 1: on Disgrace Land and twenty seven Club, and you can
Speaker 1: talk to me per usual on Instagram and Twitter at
Speaker 1: Disgrace lad rockabill mm hmm, diet crazy overdened