Read The Search for Justice Online
Authors: Robert L Shapiro
Near the end of August, as the Fuhrman drama began to play itself out, the esteemed Dr. Henry Lee again came to testify for
the defense. Barry Scheck conducted the direct examination, and an increasingly agitated Hank Goldberg did the cross.
The focus of Dr. Lee ’s testimony was to point out the errors in the district attorney ’s crime-scene reconstruction. Among
these was Lee ’s identification of what he thought might be a shoeprint on Ron Goldman ’s jeans—a print that came not from
a Bruno Magli shoe, he said, but possibly a second killer. This finding was not a definitive one, he was quick to say, it
was only a possibility that had been overlooked by the coroner.
As Dr. Lee spoke, the jury members were as focused and attentive as I had seen them, even while he did some painstaking but
tedious blood-spatter demonstrations. One pays extra attention to Henry Lee, and not just because of his careful if occasionally
fractured English. The presentation, the precision and forthrightness of his manner, make him the epitome of the credible
witness.
He challenged the integrity of some of the blood spots removed from the crime scene and testified about the swatches of blood
samples he was allowed to examine in the L.A.P.D. lab. They were damp, he said. If they had been properly stored, they should
have been dry by the time he looked at them. “Only opinion I can give under these circumstances— something wrong,” he said.
Like all good witnesses, he tried to reduce scientific testimony
to a metaphor that the jury could readily grasp. He compared the lab contamination to finding a cockroach in a plate of spaghetti.
“All you need is one… and you know it is contaminated.”
When Hank Goldberg foolishly tried to challenge him, Dr. Lee again responded firmly, “Something is wrong.”
On September 11, the defense had come to the end of its presentation. It was our decision to refuse to rest our case, however,
until the California Supreme Court had ruled on Judge Ito ’s instruction to the jury regarding Fuhrman. Judge Ito, in an unprecedented
move, then directed the prosecution to go ahead with its rebuttal case.
With a concerned eye on the flagging jury, Ito gave firm instructions that court would begin at precisely 8:30. One morning
Marcia Clark had not yet arrived at the appointed time. The jury was seated, and Ito was growing steadily more angry. When
Marcia Clark arrived, a half-hour late, the judge fined the prosecution $250. She became a little sarcastic, and Ito upped
the ante to $1000. Gil Garcetti reacted like an angry basketball coach whose star player had just been given an undeserved
technical foul. “I ’ve told my people not to pay this fine. It ’s vindictive, petty, and not called for,” he fumed. At the
end of the day, Ito brought the fine back down to $250. Garcetti still wasn ’t pacified. “Outrageous,” he said.
As the trial moved to its close, I sweated through my thrice-weekly boxing sessions in my garage with Jason Rossi, the gifted
athlete and trainer whose arduous twelve-round workouts had kept me going. At twenty-five, Jason often seemed to have more
maturity than men twice his age. All during the trial, he had constantly arranged and rearranged his schedule to accommodate
mine. On one level his coaching was directed toward honing a physical skill; he also taught me to focus completely
on one thing, to the exclusion of all others. Contrary to what one might ’ve expected, I was rarely exhausted after a session
with Jason. Instead, I was sharper, quicker. Whatever anger or frustration I had accumulated during the day was left in a
sweaty puddle on the garage floor.
Prompted by Judge Ito ’s impatience, the prosecution responded with a hurried series of rebuttal witnesses. On September 14,
Gary Sims, the senior criminologist from the California Department of Justice, was called back to testify again that DNA tests
of the blood found in the Bronco showed it to be Ron Goldman ’s. However, Barry Scheck ’s cross elicited evidence that the
car, in spite of being a major piece of evidence, wasn ’t very well secured through the entire time it was in police custody.
“From June 14 until August 26, there were no records kept as to who entered and left the tow yard,” Scheck said. “Unauthorized
personnel were in and out of the car, in the seats and so forth. Would you consider that an appropriate way to preserve biological
evidence?”
Sims answered honestly. “No, I don ’t think that should be allowed.” After the trial was over, the investigation into the
police lab procedures became so intensive that Gerald Uelmen quipped, “They closed the barn door after the Bronco was out.”
Another prosecution witness, L.A.P.D. nurse Thano Peratis, was admitted on videotape rather than in the flesh, despite our
objections. Peratis, who had drawn O.J. ’s blood on June 13, 1994, had suffered a heart attack and was advised by his physician
not to come to court. The prosecution wanted Peratis to appear on tape. We objected because we wouldn ’t be able to cross-examine
him, or make our case that there was a percentage of O.J. ’s original blood sample unaccounted for.
The issue of admitting the Peratis tape grew somewhat prolonged as Marcia Clark continued to spar with Peter Neufeld and Judge
Ito about its importance. “You ’re warned in no uncertain
terms,” Ito told her. He did agree, however, to admit a portion of the tape.
When Hank Goldberg asked Peratis, on the video, how much blood he drew from O.J., the technician ’s answer was significantly
different than it had been almost a year and a half earlier. “I came to the conclusion,” he said, “that I didn ’t draw eight
ccs. I drew about six to six and a half ccs.” The defense team all agreed that Peratis ’s recovered memory was convenient
indeed, especially since the district attorney thought it answered the question of the missing 1.5 ccs. Ironically, after
the videotape was played to the jury, we decided that it probably did more harm than good for the prosecution. The fact that
a witness was adjusting his story at this late date couldn ’t help but give rise to a jury ’s suspicions.
Even at this tired time in the trial, there were a few light moments. For instance, there was a question about nighttime visibility
at the Bundy crime scene. Judge Ito talked about phases of the moon affecting the available light. “Had it been waxing or
waning?” he asked.
Marcia Clark requested that he explain the two terms to the jury. Ito was irritated, and said, “Everybody knows the difference
between a waxing and waning moon!” And then he polled the courtroom to see who knew the difference between waxing and waning.
I didn ’t. For once, Marcia and I were in accord.
On September 16, continuing the prosecution rebuttal, FBI shoe-imprint expert Bill Bodziak testified that Lee erred in identifying
a “second footprint.” Of course, Dr. Lee had never “identified” a second footprint; rather, he said there was the possibility
of an unidentified pattern imprint being that of a second shoe.
Richard Rubin, the glove expert, was asked at his court reappearance by Bob Blasier, “Have you tried to be impartial?” When
Rubin assured him that he had, Blasier read a postscript that had appeared at the end of an earlier letter to the prosecution
from Rubin. “Maybe I can make it to the victory party,” he wrote.
On September 18, the prosecution conditionally rested their case.
As our final rebuttal, we called two FBI informants to squeal not on the mob, but on Detective Vannatter. Craig and Larry
Fiato, two ex-mobsters, were FBI informants currently in the Bureau ’s witness protection program. They and their FBI “minder”
had been in the L.A. courthouse some months previous on another murder case where the Fiato brothers were witnesses for the
prosecution. While smoking cigarettes in a designated area on the eighteenth floor, they met and talked with Detective Philip
Vannatter. They had also spoken with him at another time, in a hotel room where they were waiting before they gave their testimony.
They were now prepared to come and testify that Vannatter had told them that on the morning of the murders the L.A.P.D. detectives
“didn ’t go to Rockingham with the intention of saving people,” as he ’d testified, but rather because “the husband is always
the suspect.” If Vannatter had said it, this admission would go toward impeaching all the early testimony about why Fuhrman
went over the wall and why the police had been roaming the property and looking for evidence without a warrant. But there
was a risk here: Our witnesses were not without a few blemishes of their own.
Craig Fiato, also known as Tony the Animal, looked like what you might get if you put in a request to Central Casting for
a wanna-be mobster. He sported an odd blond dye job on top of what was obviously dark hair, a dark goatee, and a large gold
hoop earring in one ear. To season the mix even further, he testified to having had an intimate relationship with Denise Brown,
Nicole ’s sister.
Craig and his brother Larry testified in a blacked-out courtroom. The television camera had been turned off to protect the
Fiatos ’ identities. It was a true Hollywood moment. Then later that night Craig Fiato appeared on Larry King ’s show, in
full
view of the camera. “To think, he could ’ve been my brother-in-law,” O.J. joked.
Next, Detective Vannatter was recalled to the stand. I asked him, “Is there any doubt in your mind that O.J. Simpson was not
a suspect when you first went to Rockingham?”
As affable as he ’d been in his court appearances to date, Vannatter was clearly angry at being recalled. The fact that his
return visit had been occasioned by two mob informants hadn ’t improved his disposition. “Mr. Simpson was no more a suspect
at that point than you were, Mr. Shapiro,” Vannatter said, in another memorable overstatement.
L.A.P.D. Commander Keith Bushey was then called by the prosecution to rebut the Fiatos ’ testimony. He testified that as commander
of the L.A. West Bureau, it had been his decision to order the four detectives to Rockingham, in order to tell O.J. about
the murders before he heard it on the news or from any other outside source. At sidebar when Cochran announced, “I ’m gonna
do this witness myself,” and that he was going to be very tough on him, Ito gave him a look. The judge had admitted earlier
that he was tired, that he was looking forward to the final arguments and not having to make any more rulings.