Unpacking the Twists in the Menendez Brothers Murder Case
Originally appeared on E! Online
What Erik Menendez and Lyle Menendez did on the night of Aug. 20, 1989, was never the real question.
It's why that has made the brothers a subject of rapt fascination since long before they were convicted of murdering their parents in 1996. The motive they offered vs. the one prosecutors supplied has provided fodder for an endless stream of documentaries and scripted retellings, the latest being the Ryan Murphy-produced Monsters: The Lyle and Erik Menendez Story, premiering Sept. 19 on Netflix.
"I think it was easy for people in the beginning to think these two spoiled rich kids will kill their parents for the money, for the inheritance, but it's much more complicated," Nathan Lane, who plays the late writer Dominick Dunne (of, for these purposes, Vanity Fair true crime dispatch fame), told The Hollywood Reporter at the series' premiere. "It doesn’t change the fact that they committed this horrific act, but I think maybe you start to understand what led to that."
But first, what isn't in dispute is that at around 10 p.m. on the night in question, Lyle and Erik fatally shot their parents, Jose Menendez and Mary Louise "Kitty" Menendez, inside their 9,000-square-foot mansion on Elm Drive in Beverly Hills. They bought the home, which was previously leased by the likes of Prince and Elton John, less than a year before they were killed.
Jose, 45, was shot point-blank in the back of the head with a 12-gauge shotgun. He was found in the den, where he and Kitty, 47, his wife of 26 years, had been watching a movie. She was found lying in a pool of blood in the hallway, shot in the arms, chest and face. They were also both shot in the kneecap.
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But first, what isn't in dispute is that at around 10 p.m. on the night in question, Lyle and Erik fatally shot their parents, Jose Menendez and Mary Louise "Kitty" Menendez, inside their 9,000-square-foot mansion on Elm Drive in Beverly Hills. They had bought the home, which was previously leased by the likes of Prince and Elton John, less than a year before they were killed.
Jose, 45, was shot point-blank in the back of the head with a 12-gauge shotgun. He was found in the den, where he and Kitty, 47, his wife of 26 years, had been watching a movie. She was found lying in a pool of blood in the hallway, shot in the arms, chest and face. They were also both shot in the kneecap, a purposely sinister touch.
A bodyguard Lyle hired for about 10 days later testified that his client said his parents were "murdered by either the cartel or the mob and he was in fear for his life."
In reality, the brothers got in the car and dumped the guns somewhere off of Mulholland Drive, then threw the spent shotgun shells and their bloody clothes in a dumpster at a gas station. They bought movie tickets in Century City for a film they didn't see, then went to Santa Monica, where they unsuccessfully tried to find one of Lyle's friends who could serve as an alibi.
They drove back home, where then-21-year-old Lyle called 911 at 11:47 p.m., sobbing to the dispatcher, "Somebody killed my parents!"
He and Erik told police they'd gone to the movies to see the latest Bond film License to Kill, but the line was too long so they saw Batman. Afterward, they said they went to the annual Taste of L.A. festival in Santa Monica and then returned home, where they found their parents dead.
In the week immediately following the killings, Lyle—a Rolex-sporting prep school grad who had been suspended from Princeton for plagiarism—returned to New Jersey, where he test drove a Porsche (calling the Alfa Romeo he had at home a "piece of s--t") and went shopping for clothes. He also put a put a $300,000 down payment on a restaurant that specialized in buffalo wings in Princeton, N.J., where he and Erik were born, later that year.
"'Well, I've been waiting so long to be in this position, that I'm prepared for it,'" Lyle said at his parents' wake, according to the testimony of pal and Princeton classmate Glenn Stevens.
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During this time, 18-year-old Erik hired a private tennis coach and the brothers tooled around L.A. in their late mother's Mercedes convertible. They went to London and then to the Caribbean on vacation. They rented a couple of penthouses in Marina del Rey, Calif.
It was later said that the Menendez brothers blew through about $1 million in six months. ("I don't think it's understandable," Lyle later tried to explain the spending spree to Barbara Walters. "People react to it, to a traumatic event like that, in different ways.")
While their conspicuous consumption wasn't winning them any points with the police, the big break in the case came from Erik himself.
Erik ended up telling his psychologist, Dr. Jerome Oziel, on Oct. 31, 1989, that he and Lyle killed their parents. Lyle joined them later that day, and Oziel recalled the older brother being angry and menacing. Oziel met again with both brothers on Nov. 2, and Lyle told the psychologist that the brothers had talked about killing him, the therapist testified.
It was Oziel's ex-girlfriend who ended up tipping off the police. Oziel testified that, on the night of Oct. 31, he went home and "told her what I needed to tell her."
LAPD officers arrested Lyle on March 8, 1990. Erik, playing tennis in Israel at the time, surrendered upon returning to L.A. three days later.
And then the question of doctor-patient privilege helped hold the case up for years. A judge ruled that, by threatening Oziel, Lyle had voided the brothers' right to confidentiality. The defense's appeal arguing that what Erik told his therapist was private was granted, then overturned by the California State Supreme Court, which re-allowed Oziel's tape-recorded notes—but not the confessions themselves—into evidence.
Lyle and Erik Menendez were indicted on first-degree murder charges in December of 1992. The L.A. County District Attorney's Office initially said prosecutors would seek the death penalty.
Leslie Abramson headed up the defense for Erik, while Jill Lansing was lead defense attorney for Lyle.
Two years before the O.J. Simpson murder trial would become the most talked about trial of all time, prompting 24/7 media coverage and a new era for cable news, the Menendez brothers' first murder trial—also televised pretty much in its entirety on Court TV—captivated the nation.
A self-made millionaire Cuban immigrant and his beauty queen wife, gunned down by—according to prosecutors— their two spoiled brat sons in Beverly Hills: The case had all the trappings of a Hollywood melodrama (which it would become in 1994, with Edward James Olmos and Beverly D'Angelo playing Jose and Kitty).
But then the defense revealed its case: Lyle and Erik had acted in self-defense after being beaten and sexually abused for years. The brothers maintained they had feared for their lives when they pulled the trigger that night.
During this time, 18-year-old Erik hired a private tennis coach and the brothers tooled around L.A. in their late mother's Mercedes convertible. They went to London and then to the Caribbean on vacation. They rented a couple of penthouses in Marina del Rey, Calif.
It was later said that the Menendez brothers blew through about $1 million in six months. ("I don't think it's understandable," Lyle later tried to explain the spending spree to Barbara Walters. "People react to it, to a traumatic event like that, in different ways.")
While their conspicuous consumption wasn't winning them any points with the police, the big break in the case came from Erik himself.
Lyle testified in September 1993 that both Jose and Kitty sexually abused him, his father when he was between 6 and 8 years old. Kitty would bathe him and have him get into bed with her up until he was 13, he said in court, after which she continued to "harass" him and be inappropriate. His parents continued to be violent with him into his late teens, Lyle said. When he started dating, he added, Kitty would call his girlfriends "gold diggers" and "bimbos."
One of the most memorable pieces of testimony, one that made it into the TV movie as fact, was Lyle's recollection of Kitty ripping off his hair piece during an argument five days before the murders. He said that was the first time Erik saw him without his toupee, after which his younger brother cried and revealed to him that Jose was still sexually abusing him, Lyle testified. (An ex-girlfriend of Lyle's, Jamie Pisarcik, would testify that Erik had talked about Lyle wearing a hairpiece much earlier that year.)
"I had dismissed what had happened to me as something that happened to little boys," Lyle said in court, so he and Erik planned to confront their dad together.
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When he warned Jose to leave Erik alone or he'd expose him, their father replied, "'We all make choices in our life. Erik made his. You made yours,'" Lyle testified. The defendant continued, "I thought we were in danger. I felt he had no choice. He would kill us. He'd get rid of us in some way. Because I was going to ruin him."
Asked why they didn't go to the police, Lyle said he didn't believe they could help him because "my dad is a rich guy with a lot of power."
On the night of Aug. 20, 1989, Kitty told them they couldn't go to the movies and Jose told Lyle to wait alone in his room upstairs. Convinced their parents were planning to kill them, they decided to strike first, Lyle testified. They grabbed the shotguns out of their car, headed into the den and started blasting away.
Asked why they didn't tell all when they were interviewed by police early the next morning, Lyle said, "We had decided before that we wouldn't."
But then the defense revealed its case: Lyle and Erik had acted in self-defense after being beaten and sexually abused for years. The brothers maintained they had feared for their lives when they pulled the trigger that night.
Without the jury present, Oziel had told the court that the brothers seemed "immensely pleased with the excitement of pulling off these...crimes without being caught."
Oziel then testified before the jury in August 1993 that the brothers told him that they had planned to kill their father because of his domineering ways, but realizing their mother would then be a witness, decided to kill her too. (That July, the State Board of Psychology moved to revoke Oziel's license over the unauthorized taping of the conversations and some unrelated violations involving other patients.)
The brothers thought they had committed the "perfect crime," Oziel said on the stand, relating how they had told him about going back outside to reload their guns as their mother tried to crawl away.
Lyle testified in September 1993 that both Jose and Kitty sexually abused him, his father when he was between 6 and 8 years old. Kitty would bathe him and have him get into bed with her up until he was 13, he said in court, after which she continued to "harass" him and be inappropriate. His parents continued to be violent with him into his late teens, Lyle said. When he started dating, he added, Kitty would call his girlfriends "gold diggers" and "bimbos."
One of the most memorable pieces of testimony, one that made it into the TV movie as fact, was Lyle's recollection of Kitty ripping off his hair piece during an argument five days before the murders. He said that was the first time Erik saw him without his toupee, after which his younger brother cried and revealed to him that Jose was still sexually abusing him, Lyle testified. (An ex-girlfriend of Lyle's, Jamie Pisarcik, would testify that Erik had talked about Lyle wearing a hairpiece much earlier that year.)
"I had dismissed what had happened to me as something that happened to little boys," Lyle said in court, so he and Erik planned to confront their dad together.
The brothers were tried simultaneously but with separate juries—both of which ended up deadlocked at the end of the first trial, unable to agree on whether Erik and Lyle were cold-blooded killers or tragic abuse victims.
After the first go-round ended in a mistrial, Abramson told reporters that the $14.5 million estate Lyle and Erik inherited had dwindled to almost nothing and asked that concerned citizens donate to the Erik Menendez Legal Defense Fund for the retrial.
According to the Los Angeles Times in April 1994, probate records showed that there was less than $700,000 in cash left, in addition to the family's Calabasas home, a condo in New Jersey and some furniture and jewelry. Almost $4 million had gone to taxes, while another $4 million went to upkeep and mortgages on the Beverly Hills and Calabasas properties. Criminal defense fees amount to $1.495 million at the time.
When he warned Jose to leave Erik alone or he'd expose him, their father replied, "'We all make choices in our life. Erik made his. You made yours,'" Lyle testified. The defendant continued, "I thought we were in danger. I felt he had no choice. He would kill us. He'd get rid of us in some way. Because I was going to ruin him."
Asked why they didn't go to the police, Lyle said he didn't believe they could help him because "my dad is a rich guy with a lot of power."
On the night of Aug. 20, 1989, Kitty told them they couldn't go to the movies and Jose told Lyle to wait alone in his room upstairs. Convinced their parents were planning to kill them, they decided to strike first, Lyle testified. They grabbed the shotguns out of their car, headed into the den and started blasting away.
Asked why they didn't tell all when they were interviewed by police early the next morning, Lyle said, "We had decided before that we wouldn't."
The brothers were back on trial by August 1995, but the proceedings played second fiddle to the Simpson case playing out across town.
Moreover, Judge Stanley Weisberg did not allow cameras in his Van Nuys courtroom, depriving the world of gavel-to-gavel coverage of round two.
Erik testified again, but Lyle did not, and on March 20, 1996, the brothers were each found guilty of two counts of first-degree murder, with special circumstances, and conspiracy to commit murder.
A jury opted to spare their lives during the penalty phase, recommending life in prison without the possibility of parole.
"Lyle is relieved because he wants to live," defense attorney Charles Gessler told reporters after hearing the jury's decision.
"On the good side, I would say that they're such considerable human beings that they're going to find a way to be productive," added Abramson. "And in fact some of the jurors were saying that too. It was their expectation that they would both find a way to contribute to society."
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"We did think there was psychological abuse to some extent. I think most of us believed that," juror Lesley Hillings told the LA Times afterward. "Sexual abuse? I don't think we'll ever know if that's true or not."
Abramson ended up accused of misconduct during the penalty phase when a psychiatrist enlisted by the defense to meet with Erik claimed that she had asked him to exclude information from his session notes. She was cleared by the California Bar in 1999.
The brothers' last memorable appearance together was a jailhouse interview they gave to Barbara Walters which aired June 28, 1996, just a few days before they were formally sentenced. Erik insisted, "I'm just a normal kid," prompting a bemused response from Walters.
"I was terrified that [the jury] would give either one of us death...It's scary," Erik said. Lyle said it was "very important" to them that they get to stay together in prison. "That is what has gotten us through these last six years, and through our life," he said.
"What we did is awful, and I wish I could go back..." Erik acknowledged. "We will spend the rest of our life in prison. But if I'm not with--but if we're not put in the same prison, there's a good probability I will never see him again and that...that I...there are some things you cannot take and there are some things you can endure. With everything taken away, [that would be] the last thing you can take."
Asked about the common public perception that he and his brother were monstrous spoiled brats, Erik said, "That's not who I am, but I can't defend that. Because I came from a family of wealth, that doesn't make me spoiled."
Added Lyle, "I would be surprised if anybody who was present at the trial and saw the whole thing, rather than snippets on the news, would feel that."
Ultimately the state of California opted to separate the Menendez brothers, sending Erik to Folsom State Prison (he was later transferred to Pleasant Valley State Prison) and Lyle to Mule Creek State Prison in Ione.
An appellate court upheld their convictions in February 1998, and petitions for review were also denied that May.
A jury opted to spare their lives during the penalty phase, recommending life in prison without the possibility of parole.
"Lyle is relieved because he wants to live," defense attorney Charles Gessler told reporters after hearing the jury's decision.
"On the good side, I would say that they're such considerable human beings that they're going to find a way to be productive," added Abramson. "And in fact some of the jurors were saying that too. It was their expectation that they would both find a way to contribute to society."
Lyle and Erik didn't see other again until April 2018, two months after one of Lyle's half-dozen transfer requests was granted and he was moved into the same housing unit as Erik at Richard J. Donovan Correctional Facility in southern San Diego County.
"I burst into tears. I had to walk a long way to see him...when he got brought over in a van, I was able to see him coming off and meet with him and I wasn't sure how I would react," Lyle told DailyMailTV of their emotional reunion after 22 years apart. "I just felt a lot of adrenaline and just, I ended up bursting into tears."
But seeing Erik was "just wonderful," he said, explaining, "I don't know that I really ever recovered from [being separated]. It's like a healing of a wound to be reunited. It's been 25 years since the trials, I think that's long enough."
The case has never really been entirely out of the news, but it returned with a vengeance in 2023 as another person accused their father of sex abuse and a letter purportedly written by Erik in 1988, detailing Jose's abuse, came to light.
Attorneys filed a habeas corpus petition on the brothers' behalf in May 2023, arguing that Erik's letter and former Menudo member Ray Rosselló's accusation of rape against Jose (made in the Peacock documentary Menendez + Menudo: Boys Betrayed) contradicted the prosecutions' contention at trial that Erik and Lyle were motivated by greed.
The brothers' filing, which included a declaration from Rosselló, asked the L.A. County D.A.'s Office to open an evidentiary hearing or vacate the convictions and sentences.
"The shootings were not murder but manslaughter," the petition alleged, "committed out of an honest though unreasonable belief in the need for self-defense after a lifetime of sexual and physical abuse."
The D.A.'s Office told the L.A. Times in mid-July 2023 that they were still reviewing the case files before submitting any response to the judge.
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Meanwhile, Lyle has said that he felt more "at peace" in prison than he ever did on the outside.
"It's shocking to think...that I could have been involved in taking anyone's life—and my parents' life," Lyle told ABC News by phone for the special Truth and Lies: The Menendez Brothers—American Sons, American Murderers, which aired in January 2017. "It seems unimaginable because it seems so far removed from who I am. But I found that my own childhood prepared me surprisingly well for the chaos of prison life."
He continued, "I am the kid that did kill his parents, and no river of tears has changed that and no amount of regret has changed it. I accept that. You are often defined by a few moments of your life, but that's not who you are in your life, you know. Your life is your totality of it...You can't change it. You just, you're stuck with the decisions you made...I think I will end up dying still being in the nightmare of this horrifying event and tragedy."
But there were plenty of people who didn't think he was a monster. Lyle married former model Anna Eriksson on July 2, 1996, the day he was sentenced to life in prison; they divorced in 2011 after he was reportedly caught "cheating" (writing letters to another woman). He wed Rebecca Sneed in 2003.
Incidentally, California does not allow conjugal visits for prisoners convicted of murder and/or serving life sentences.
The brothers also have their TikTok fans, a younger crowd who discovered now-56-year-old Lyle and 53-year-old Erik online and started singing—or lip-syncing, such as to Britney Spears' "Criminal"—their support and full-on crushing on trial-era Erik in their videos.
"It's a lot of kids going back, watching Court TV, seeing how everything was portrayed, but looking at it with a fresh set of eyes and a different set of values," observed New York Times technology reporter Taylor Lorenz on an April 2021 episode of 20/20 about the trend.
Though it's not as if Erik and Lyle didn't have their analog fans back in the day, as well.
Erik also got married in June 1999, finding love with single mom Tammi Ruth Saccoman, who had been writing to him since his first trial.
"Not having sex in my life is difficult, but it's not a problem for me," Saccoman, who penned the 2005 book They Said We'd Never Make It: My Life With Erik Menendez, told People that year. "I have to be physically detached, and I'm emotionally attached to Erik... My family does not understand. When it started to get serious, some of them just threw up their hands."
Erik said at the time that he didn't feel he deserved to be in prison for the rest of his life.
"I'm not saying what I did was right or justifiable," he told People in 2005 with Saccoman by his side. "I needed to go to prison. But place another child in my life and see what happens. I felt it was either my life or my parents' life. It's as if there was kerosene all over the floor that a match could light at any time. And my soul was burnt to death."
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Erik said he felt he deserved to go to prison, but "I don't believe that I deserve to be here. And I may well get out of prison one day. I am still working on my appeal. I don't know if that is realistic. But the death of hope is the death of the heart. I can't think about it. If I was serving any good purpose in being here for life, then I could say it was the right thing. But I'm not."
He said he had read The Power of Now at least 15 times, he meditated daily and he had spent the last 14 years building his relationship with God.
During his first year in prison, however, he was too afraid to try to speak to God.
"But I could talk with my mother," Erik said. "She still loved me. I would love me if I was her. After this forgiving stage I was able to acknowledge my mother again in my life."
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(A previous version of this story was originally published April 25, 2017, at 4 a.m. PT)
