The defense team worked up some belated damage control. They took their strand of this gigantic Russian novel interactive via a toll-free tip hot line. Oj. offered a fat reward for information leading to the apprehension of the real snuff artists–cash he might or might not have after his lawyers bleed him dry. The Los Angeles Police Department canvassed the area surrounding Nicole Simpson’s town house in a search for witnesses to confirm or refute Oj.’s guilt, and got nowhere. The defense team, eager to cast the LAPD as both incompetent and racist, put out their public appeal–in case potential witnesses missed the canvassing cops and the media coverage attending the most publicized crime of all time. This was a move of epic disingenuousness–specious in its logical structuring and wholly cynical in its application.
The post–Rodney King LAPD would prefer not to hassle highprofile Blacks. Popping a low-profile White killer for the job would vibrate their vindaloos no end. The Simpson defense team understands the tortured history of the LAPD and Los Angeles Blacks–both its historical validity and the level of justified and irrational paranoia that it has produced. They put out a magnet to attract misinformation, fear, and outright madness–and some of the more presentable bits they receive may show up in court as fodder to further confuse an already informationally swamped jury.
And the LAPD will be exhorted to check out “leads” that they know will lead nowhere, or risk a barrage of courtroom recriminations that will further obscure the facts of the case, serve to excite racial tension, and contribute to the cause of general divisive bad juju.
The defense team’s probably thinking they can sell the hot-line tapes for big bucks. The LAPD’s probably wishing they framed some random pervert for the job.
If Oj. is guilty, he should cop a plea behind exhaustion. His 2,033 yards in one season rate bupkis when compared to his postfootball sprint.
Second-rate acclaim and the pursuit of empty pleasures wear a guy out. Beating up women is a young man’s game. Attrition narrows your choices down to changing your life or ending it.
Change takes time. It’s not as instantaneous as a few lines of coke or some fresh pussy.
Suicide takes imagination. You’ve got to be able to conjure up an afterlife or visions of rest–or be in such unbreachable pain that anything is preferable to your suffering.
Oj. went out behind a chickenshit end run. He didn’t have the soul or the balls to utilize his first two options.
December 1994
THE TOOTH OF CRIME
Captain Dan Burt looks and talks like an enlightened fast-track Republican. He’s midsized, tan, and groomed. If he wasn’t running the Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Homicide Bureau he’d be saving America from both Bill Clinton and right-wing yahoos within his own party. He knows how to talk, inspire loyalty, and wear a dark-blue suit.
Today he’s riffing on the Simpson case and its lessons for homicide detectives. Six team heads and two administrative aides pack his office SRO.
Burt says: “We can cop an attitude behind the Oj. thing or we can learn from it. I’m glad it wasn’t our case, but I want to make damn sure we all go to school on it.”
He’s got seven lieutenants and one sergeant by the short hairs. He lays out a dizzying spiel on crime-scene containment, evidence chains, and the need to recognize the media magnitude of celebrity murders at the outset, think them through from an adversarial attorney’s perspective, and evaluate and define every investigatory aspect as they progress. The pitch is tight and inside, with a slow-breaking kicker: The LAPD took the grief on this one, and we reaped the benefit.
A handsomely crafted ceramic bulldog sits on a table beside the captain’s desk, replete with a Sheriff’s Homicide baseball cap and a rubber turd behind its ass. Burt pats the beast and wraps up the briefing.
“This unit has flourished because we’ve made an effort to stay open-minded and learn from our mistakes. We’ve never let our reputation turn us arrogant. If we continue to assess the Simpson case and incorporate what we learn into our procedures, we’ll make something good out of one big goddamn mess.”