His Name Is Ron (23 page)

What was important was that the killer had left a trail of blood around and in his home. And some of it was Ron's.

The police were not on trial here, but one would never have known that from the actions of the defense team. Peering out from a window of his ivory tower at Harvard Law School, Alan Dershowitz declared—without offering any evidence—that police officers are actually trained to lie on the witness stand. He called it “testilying.”

LAPD Chief Willie Williams and the California Organization of Police and Sheriffs took issue with Dershowitz's pronouncement. The organization released a statement that declared: “A civilized, law-abiding society should no longer accept the unprofessional, counterproductive conduct of individuals such as Alan Dershowitz. One has to wonder why any credible university
would allow Mr. Dershowitz the opportunity to spew his anti-law enforcement venom under the guise of freedom of speech. Speech lacking responsibility is nothing more than the ranting and ravings of a hate-filled, anti-social fool.”

We say: Amen.

Patti and Kim spent a lot of time studying the jury. I had raised Ron and Kim never to base their opinions on stereotypes, but when you are in a room full of strangers, that is about all you have to go on.

Since we were unaware of the jurors' identities, we made up names for some of them. We nicknamed one of the alternates “Jeannie,” because she had a blond ponytail that reminded us of the actress Barbara Eden, who played the title role in the old TV series
I Dream of Jeannie.
She was about Kim's age, quite attractive, well dressed, and carefully made up. She and Kim made occasional eye contact and exchanged subtle nods indicating a friendly “good morning.” Kim knew that we were not allowed any communication with the jury, and it was a little weird, but it was just a pleasantry between the two young women.

What began as a positive reaction to the jury slowly eroded as time went by. We watched the jurors take notes, stare at the wall, gloat over Cochran, look Marcia up and down, snub her, and fawn over Judge Ito. Whenever the testimony grew long and tedious, the reactions of some of the jurors were alarming. Some of them simply closed their eyes; others were clearly zoned out.

Over and over again, Kim caught Cochran making overt eye contact with some of the jurors, even winking at them. Patti and Kim longed to be able to raise their hands, speak up, and say, “Excuse me, Your Honor, but did you see that?”

One of the jurors, a woman we called “Poodle” because of her curly hairstyle, sometimes wore an outfit made out of fabric similar to Cochran's African-American motif ties. We wondered if she was making a silent statement, and it bothered us.

What many considered to be the comic relief of the trial entered the courtroom on the afternoon of Tuesday, March 21. As Brian “Kato” Kaelin bounded to the witness stand, he nearly ran into Chris Darden. When Marcia asked him if he was nervous, Kaelin responded: “Feel great.” Laughter trickled through the courtroom, and then he added, “A little nervous.”

Dressed in black jeans and a blazer, Kaelin was a demonstrative witness. He gestured expansively, sipped water, licked his lips, brushed back his shaggy hair, and shifted his posture back and forth. As questions were posed to him, he nodded vigorously and arched his eyebrows.

Marcia led Kaelin through a methodical recitation of his actions the night of the murders. He testified that he and the defendant had returned from McDonald's at 9:40
P.M
. He said that he took his food to his room and did not see the defendant again until 11:15
P.M
.

He was on the phone to his friend Rachel Ferrara about 10:40 or 10:45
P.M
., when he heard a thumping nose.

“How many thumps did you hear?” Marcia asked.

Kaelin said that he heard three thumps so loud that he feared that an earthquake had struck. He demonstrated the sound of the thumps by balling up his right fist and pounding three times on the witness stand.

We believed, as the prosecution did, that the noises occurred when the defendant vaulted the fence and bumped into the air-conditioning unit. This was where Detective Fuhrman had found the bloody glove.

A short time later Kaelin encountered the defendant in the driveway, ready to leave for the airport to catch his flight to Chicago. Kaelin testified that he helped load luggage into the limousine, but when he offered to pick up one small bag, the defendant stopped him, preferring to handle that piece himself.

Kaelin testified that he never noticed a cut or injury to the defendant's hand, either during the trip to McDonald's or later, as they loaded the limousine, but he did say that he noticed blood drops in the foyer early Monday morning. We knew that would be important because the defense was already posturing about police conspiracy and planted blood. At the time Kaelin noticed the blood spots, the defendant had not yet returned from Chicago and his blood sample had not yet been drawn.

Throughout Kaelin's testimony, Simpson was a picture of frustration. He gestured repeatedly with his hands, throwing them up in the air when he heard something that displeased him. He scowled. He rolled his eyes in a show of disbelief. It was very frustrating to see Judge Ito allow this behavior in front of the jury.

Limousine driver Allan Park was a welcome relief from the hyperkinetic Kato Kaelin. Poised and articulate, he reiterated the information he gave during the preliminary hearing: that he had been ringing the intercom buzzer at the gate of the defendant's home for several minutes, but no one
had answered. About 10:55
P.M
. he saw a black person, about six feet tall and weighing about 200 pounds, stride toward the front door. Once the person went inside, Park said, he tried the buzzer again, and this time the defendant answered, apologized for having overslept, and promised to be out in a few minutes.

Marcia asked the defendant to stand. Without waiting for direction from Judge Ito, the killer quickly scooted his chair back and rose to his feet. He grinned slightly and tugged the buttons of his olive-green suit jacket. Marcia asked whether the defendant resembled the shadowy figure who entered the house and Park replied, “Yes, around that size.”

Michael believes that tennis probably saved his sanity. During his one season as the high school coach, Ron had taught Michael and the other boys that tennis was a mental as well as a physical game. He stressed the importance of keeping one's concentration, and Michael had developed a special routine. Prior to each match he went off by himself, knelt in a corner of the court, and silently dedicated the match to Ron. Every serve, every volley was for Ron. He told a friend, “I feel like he's right there with me, watching me with that trademark smile on his face.” Michael and his doubles partner, David Newman, were nearly unbeatable that year.

One afternoon as he prepared for a home match, Michael said aloud, “Jeez, Brentwood.” Brentwood High School was not usually on the schedule, but this match had been added months earlier.

As team captain, Michael introduced all the players before the match. Then he went off by himself for his pregame ritual. He was crouched over, talking to Ron, when the Brentwood players formed a huddle, clasped hands, and shouted in unison, “Free O.J.!”

Michael could not believe what he had heard. He did not say anything, but he felt dazed. Suddenly he heard his own team respond with a spontaneous cheer of its own, “Kill O.J.!”

SIXTEEN

On the day after Ron and Nicole were murdered, sometime after the killer had returned from Chicago and was speaking with police at his Rockingham estate, his longtime friend Robert Kardashian was seen walking away from the grounds with a garment bag. The prosecution wanted to know what was in that bag, and wanted Judge Ito's permission to call him as a witness.

We viewed Kardashian as an enigmatic and sinister individual. Kim had a clear opinion of the man: “Slimy. Sleazy. Bottom of the barrel.” He was a key player in several events during the week following the murders. First, he had spirited away the defendant's garment bag. Later in the week he had driven the murderer back to LAX to retrieve his precious golf clubs. And, it was from Kardashian's home that the defendant and A. C. Cowlings had fled in a white Ford Bronco.

In court Kardashian appeared to be like a dental retainer, simply there to take up space. He played no observable role in contributing to the legal defense, but his presence
in
court was vital to the defense's strategy to keep him
out of
the witness stand. Kardashian had not practiced law in years, but shortly after the murders he had reactivated his status as a lawyer. The “Scheme Team” claimed that he was one of them; therefore, he could cite attorney-client privilege and not be forced to testify.

What was it, we wondered, that Kardashian did not want to tell the jury?

*   *   *

Deputy D.A. Hank Goldberg handled the direct examination of LAPD criminalist Dennis Fung who, along with junior associate Andrea Mazzola, had collected the physical evidence at both the crime scene and the killer's home. Responding to Hank's gentle, methodical questioning, Dennis described the trails of blood at both locations. He identified the bloody glove found at Rockingham.

The information was vital to the case, but questions and answers came in meticulous detail. Dennis paused frequently to look up information in his notes. Bailiffs had to remove one of the spectators for dozing off in court.

In the D.A.'s office during a break, Kim asked him jokingly, “Dennis, what is your name?”

He replied, “Let me look it up.”

The touch of humor was welcome, because Dennis was nervous. Under Judge Ito's rules, objections could be raised only by the lawyer who would conduct the cross-examination. As Hank had taken Dennis through his testimony, it quickly became apparent that Barry Scheck would do the cross-examination. This made Dennis wary, because Scheck had already exhibited an obnoxious, loud, and tenacious style.

The cross-examination commenced during Dennis's second day of testimony. Indeed, Scheck was tough. His voice dripping with sarcasm, he attacked from all sides, sometimes forcing Dennis to admit that not every bit of evidence was collected, or recorded, according to proper procedures. After court that day, Dennis said, “It was grueling.” We all knew that Scheck had only begun his assault.

The next morning, as we gathered in the D.A.'s office, Dennis was trying to psych himself up for the confrontation, vowing, “I'm going to make him work for his answers. I'm not going to let him get to me.”

Hank Goldberg, who has a great, dry sense of humor, relieved the tension somewhat by doing an outstanding impersonation of Scheck and some of his made-for-TV attempts at courtroom drama.

We knew that we could not give Dennis a visible thumbs-up signal, but we wanted to devise some way to show our support. So we came up with a bit of sign language. We told Dennis that if one of us touched our lower lip, it meant “Way to go, you're doing great.”

Dennis tried to hold firm. When Scheck delivered one of his extended questions, Dennis sat with his hands in his lap, pausing long and thinking carefully before he answered. At times he spotted Kim touching her lower lip and he showed a hint of a smile. At other times he seemed to grow weak, withering under the extended attack.

Scheck had an annoying habit of putting words into the witness's
mouth; he would make statements and then ask the witness to verify them. He was able to draw reluctant admissions of errors in protocol, suggesting that Dennis had bungled the record-keeping procedures and, in general, attempting to paint a picture of investigators slogging through the crime scene, spraying blood, hair, and fibers everywhere. Defense lawyers such as Scheck are content to try to make an honest witness look like a liar instead of a fallible human being. From our perspective we could see that, yes, some mistakes were made. But they did not alter the big picture, and it was worrisome to look at this jury and wonder what it might consider to be “reasonable doubt.”

Day after day, hour after hour, question after question, the defense pounded away at Dennis, pursuing two separate themes, seeking to prove: (1) dozens of investigators conspired to frame the defendant; (2) the investigation was flawed by incompetence. In our opinion, these appeared to be mutually exclusive concepts. The police, the technicians, and the prosecutors would have to be exceptionally competent in order to devise, create, and maintain a phony case. And since the defense argued for both explanations, it was obvious that its actual intent was to (3) confuse the jury.

Dennis's testimony highlighted many of the basic absurdities of this trial. During a lunch break Judge Ito retired to his chambers to review a videotape that showed Dennis as he worked at the crime scene. When court reconvened, the judge had to admit that he had inadvertently hit the
RECORD
button, erasing about five seconds of evidence in the “trial of the century.” At another point Judge Ito squandered ninety minutes of everyone's time while he considered the defense team's contention that, because one page of Dennis's report did not have a staple mark in it, it was evidence of a conspiracy. During a sidebar conference a spectator suddenly began shouting that someone sitting next to him was threatening to hit him; the man, wearing a garish dress and heavy makeup, was a local wacko who called himself “Will B. King.” And Robert Shapiro had to issue an apology for a joke he made outside the courthouse; passing out fortune cookies to reporters, he quipped that they came from a Chinese restaurant called “Hang Fung.”