The Search for Justice (25 page)

They weren ’t particularly concerned with what they ’d heard of the 911 tapes, although they didn ’t think the prosecution
should ’ve released them to the news media. The tapes did show that O.J. had a temper, but, said one woman, “What couple hasn
’t had a really bad fight or two?” As for Mark Fuhrman, although he might ’ve been a racist, no one believed he was a bad
cop, and jumping over the wall at Rockingham made him seem brave and daring to them. They thought the DNA evidence was the
strongest part of the D.A. ’s case, although they said that if O.J. ’s Bronco was used after such a violent murder, there
should have been blood soaked all over everything. While they had no particular criticism of the coroner ’s office, they were
concerned about the pivotal role in the evidence-gathering part of the investigation that had been played by neophytes or
trainees.

While they didn ’t expect O.J. to testify at the trial, they did say that they would “feel better about him if he did.” Not
surprisingly, they showed a fundamental confusion about the role, or mission, of the defense. In order to keep O.J. from being
convicted, they said, we either had to identify the real killer or prove somehow that he had been framed. And they were familiar
with the dynamic between the defense and prosecution. “Marcia Clark ’s going to be really disappointed if it turns out that
someone else did it,” said one man.

Linell and I had been invited, along with the boys, to the wedding of Miko Brando, Marlon ’s son. The wedding and reception
were going to be held at Michael Jackson ’s Neverland Ranch, which, although it ’s almost as secure as the Pentagon, is nevertheless
the subject of constant press scrutiny, with helicopter flyovers the order of the day.

A few days before we were scheduled to go, I had been the subject of a somewhat negative piece on local television, commenting
on the fact that since I ’d taken on O.J. ’s case I had also gone with my family to the World Cup soccer matches, the glittery
and well-publicized opening of a Los Angeles country-and-western—themed restaurant, and the James Toney fight in Las Vegas.
Linell was upset not only at the implication—that instead of taking care of business, I was celebrity-showboating—but also
because these were events and activities that we would ’ve attended in any case, long before I was associated with O.J. Simpson.

“I don ’t think we should even go to Miko ’s wedding now,” said Linell angrily. “Our being there would probably wreck his
special day. I think I ’m going to take the kids to Lake Tahoe and stay there until it ’s time for them to come back to school.
It ’s all getting really ridiculous now, Bob. Cameras everywhere we go, people pointing and yelling at you, practically hip-checking
me and the boys out of the way to get to you.”

I knew there wasn ’t much I could say that could take the edge off the way she was feeling. Our quiet dinners out often turned
into social events, our social events became roundtable
discussions of the Simpson case, complete with confrontations and critiques of my performance to date. At one dinner party,
Tina Sinatra took me outside and read me the riot act on the terrace. “How can you represent him?” she demanded heatedly,
not waiting to hear my answer. “Isn ’t this hypocritical, what you ’re doing?”

And all the while, the other party guests were trying not to listen, and Linell was trying not to notice that once again the
focus was on me and the case. She was stuck in the awkward position of being my most loyal defender and protector at exactly
the same time that her own life,
because
of me, was getting more and more uncomfortable.

“Well,” I told my wife, “remember when I told you a long time ago that I didn ’t want to be famous? That I just wanted to
be known for being a good lawyer? This is why.”

“Back then, we didn ’t know about
this
,” she said. “This,
nobody
could have predicted.” Ultimately, she and the boys stayed at Lake Tahoe, and I went to Miko ’s wedding alone.

As the tension surrounding jury selection and pre-trial preparation began to rise, we were plagued by a series of leaks to
the press, and the leaks seemed to be coming from all directions. The TV tabloid
Hard Copy
ran a story about Marcia Clark ’s former mother-in-law, Gaby Horowitz ’s mother, who lived in Israel. She had some bitter
feelings about her ex-daughter-in-law and was more than willing to make disparaging remarks about Marcia—including that she
was a racist—on camera. When I found out that our investigators were privy to this information, I was appalled to think that
there was a possibility it had been leaked from our office. Anyone who knew Marcia Clark, as I had for two decades, knew that
any suggestion that she was a racist was so far from the truth as to be completely laughable.

Pat McKenna and John McNally were quick to assure Bill Pavelic that they didn ’t leak anything to
Hard Copy,
or to anyone
else, and told him that they had very strong reasons to believe that our investigator Barry Hostetler had done it. Skip Taft,
who had been monitoring the budget, had already suggested that we could afford only three investigators. Letting Hostetler
go, it was decided, was appropriate given the circumstances. It would be six months before we learned that the leak had in
fact come from inside, though not from Hostetler.

In August, there were both television and newspaper reports that lab tests on the strands of hair in the blue knit cap found
them to resemble O.J. ’s hair; in addition, one television reporter said that the item in the “mysterious envelope” still
in the court ’s custody was a new knife, with its original price tag. The first piece of information could only have come
from the prosecution; the second one, the reporter said, “was confirmed by a defense source.”

Judge Ito told us in chambers that he was particularly angry to have learned key information in the case while he was taking
a shower and listening to the radio. His response to the leaks was to draft a gag order. “A trial court not only has the authority
but the affirmative duty to protect the right to a fair trial,” he wrote. “Given the amount of media interest and coverage
that this case has ignited, the court must use its inherent authority to control the judicial procedure.” He wanted all motions
sealed and not made public until they were argued in court. Prosecution and defense lawyers were not to comment on anything
that might come before the jury, any evidence or information specific to guilt or innocence. Ito went on to say that violation
of the order would incur sanctions, although he didn ’t specify what those sanctions would be. They could range from monetary
fines to charges of contempt.

Although some members of the ACLU and the press corps thought Ito ’s order was harsh, my own response was that an information
embargo was long overdue. There had been leaks since the beginning, not the least of which was the “Simpsonis-guilty” drumbeat
that came regularly from the district attorney ’s office. However, because I had always maintained a comfortable
relationship with the press, I was often the one assumed to be responsible for the leaks. It would be nice for the playing
field to be not only level for a change, but regulated by the judge. Now the challenge would be to keep my own troops quiet.

In addition to the information we ’d gathered on Mark Fuhrman ’s racial attitudes, we had also been contacted by a woman named
Kathleen Bell. After talking to Bill Pavelic, Bell, a white woman, ultimately filed an affidavit with the court that reported
a casual conversation she ’d had with Fuhrman in the mid-eighties. He ’d told her that in his capacity as a policeman, he
frequently pulled over cars driven by black men, for no particular legal reason, and he especially did so when he saw black
men with white women. Mark Fuhrman had met Nicole in the mid-1980s, when he was the responding officer on a call Nicole had
made initially to the Westec security service. In that incident, she reported that O.J. had shattered a car windshield with
a baseball bat. What, then, must have gone through his head when Fuhrman arrived at Bundy and realized who the murdered woman
was?

When we moved to obtain Fuhrman ’s records, our request had included not just his personnel records but his Marine Corps records
as well. This had been Lee Bailey ’s idea; if there was a pattern of Fuhrman ’s behavior that went back further than the L.A.P.D.,
he said, we ought to know about it. Although Ito did give us access to the police records, he denied the military records,
stating that there was nothing in them relevant to the Simpson case. Robert Tourtelot, Fuhrman ’s attorney, called us “desperate
snooping defense attorneys” whose request for the records was “replete with factually unsupported accusations of racism.”

“This is not a fishing expedition,” argued Johnnie. “This officer harbors animosity against African-Americans, especially
African-Americans married to Caucasians.”

Once the press learned of the defense ’s interest in Fuhrman ’s records, they were all over us for making race an important
issue in the trial.

“Race is not the issue here,” I responded for what seemed like the millionth time. “Credibility is the issue. And the documentation
of Fuhrman ’s attitudes toward black men—and possibly toward this black man in particular—goes directly to his credibility
as a witness, and as an investigating police officer in this case.”

Privately, Cochran told me I was naive in believing that race wasn ’t an issue.

“I never said it wasn ’t
an
issue,” I argued. “I said it wasn ’t
the
issue, and at any rate it shouldn ’t be part of this case. A defense built on race will never help us.”

“Never say never, Bob,” he replied.

In late August, a column published in both the
New York Times
and the
Los Angeles Times
stated the following: “Unlike clinical laboratories which perform tests for hospitals and doctors ’ offices, the nation ’s
crime laboratories are exempt from regulation and external review. There are no minimum certification requirements for lab
personnel.” Written by Paul Giannelli, a law professor at Case Western Reserve University, the piece cited the case of one
serologist who had falsified “test results in hundreds of cases Since 1979,… Defendants who have since been exonerated were
sentenced to long prison terms on his testimony…. For more than a decade, he worked closely with prosecutors and the police
and apparently tailored his findings to conform with their theories of the cases.” Proficiency testing for crime lab personnel
has been voluntary Since 1984, reported Giannelli, but the results of that testing haven ’t been made available. “Many people
assume that the accused will have the opportunity to challenge expert witnesses who present faulty evidence,” he wrote. “In
fact, 80% of defendants can ’t afford to hire a lawyer, much less pay expert witnesses.”