Page 5 of THE REAPING: What the O.J. Simpson Murder Case Did to America

  *Marguerite was pregnant with their third child when O.J. met Nicole.

  In 1963, Judi and Lou moved to Long Beach, California. It was a culture shock for the young German girl, and a short while later Lou moved the family back to Frankfurt. Oddly, Judi’s mother seemed too “busy” to spend time with them. Later it was revealed that she was concerned that the marriage would not last if Judi stayed in Germany. Her actions were her way of “forcing” the Browns to move back to the States. Judi was very much like her mother. She would take O.J.’s position when he and Nicole had marital troubles. Both Browns argued heavily for reconciliation.

  The Browns moved first to Long Beach, then to Orange County. The girls were adventurous tomboys. Lou owned several successful car washes. It was Denise and Nikky, not Judi, who missed Germany. German was their first language and it took them a few years to adjust to English and American customs. They also prayed to God . . . in German.

  As the girls got older they started to hang out at nearby Huntington Beach, where they befriended another local girl named Michelle Pfeiffer. When Nikky was a high school sophomore, the family moved to upscale Laguna Beach. Laguna is so beautiful people joke that on the “seventh day God rested there.” An artist’s colony and a gay community were part of the eclectic Laguna world, but for the most part it was a California paradise of surfing, sun tanning, sexy girls, and nightlife. Expensive homes dotted the hills with expansive ocean views; one of the most exclusive towns in the nation.

  Nikky moved from the pedestrian Rancho Alamitos High School to tony Dana Hills High. Both sisters fit in immediately. Denise was voted Homecoming Princess, paving the way for Nikky’s awarding of the same honor two years later.

  Nikky befriended a brilliant Chinese-American girl named Eve Chin. They were both excellent students, and chose to write essays about each other. Eve would casually walk into the open Brown house as if she was part of the family. Life was free and easy.

  “Lou was a very strong father and a gentle man,” recalled Eve.

  A neighbor, however, recalled Judi complaining that Lou was “controlling” . . . just like O.J. Simpson.

  Denise quickly gained work as a professional model, but when Nikky met a young photographer named David LeBon, she decided she wanted to be behind the camera. When he moved to Los Angeles to work for an advertising agency, he regularly called and filled Nikky with stories of life in the big city. In 1976, she began to think of living there after graduation from Dana Hills High.

  That same year, she traveled to New York and Greece to visit Denise, now an Eileen Ford model. In Greece, however, she became homesick when Denise was called to go on a shoot, and she cried in a phone call to Eve back home. Eve realized that Nikky was not quite as tough as she often appeared.

  “Nicole Brown was, at heart, a dependent, vulnerable person,” wrote Weller.

  Shortly after the birth of their second child, Jason on April 21, 1970, O.J. Simpson moved his family into a Tudor home on Deer Run Road in Woodstream Farms, Buffalo’s nicest suburb. But Marguerite was a woman variously called “conservative,” “reserved,” “quiet” and “a home body, a Bible-carrying churchgoer.”

  “She was having problems with O.J. because he was wild . . .” said the wife of one of his Bills teammates.

  O.J. may well have married Marguerite when he entered USC because he felt at the time the rules of society were clear: no inter-racial dating. He knew there would be beautiful white girls on campus, no doubt noticed them, and very likely might have been surprised to find some making themselves available to him. This would have resulted in his realizing he did not “need” to be married at USC. As fame and then fortune came his way, the many opportunities now available to him left him like a kid in a candy store.

  O.J. and Al Cowlings hung out at a Buffalo nightclub called Mulligan’s with the club’s owner, Mike Militello, and the infamous singer Rick James. O.J. was impressed with Militello, who served – and was wounded – in Vietnam. Militello dropped out of the Buffalo social scene after a 1975 raid revealed he was involved in cocaine.

  In 1973, when O.J. had his greatest season – 2,003 yards and the Most Valuable Player award – Marguerite initiated a separation. In 1974 O.J. began shooting Hertz commercials. While many have characterized O.J. as the ultimate assimilationist, he did show a certain amount of racial tension when he got mad at the director of a Hertz commercial who demanded less street lingo in his delivery.

  “O.J. is the most unprejudiced man I have ever met,” said a colleague and friend, Joe Kolkowitz. Newsweek and other media outlets later ascribed O.J.’s “character weakness” to his acceptance of “white values,” a very liberal – and untrue – analysis. However, most of O.J.’s relationships and associations, especially during his playing career, placed him either in a position of control, or at the least a position of some power and respect. He never lost his job to a white player or was racially disrespected by a white coach, and most interestingly, there does not seem to be any record of any white men “stealing” any of his white girlfriends away from him. There was one incident, however. A white corporate sponsor objected to his being placed on a board because he was black.

  “When I told O.J. the reason he’d been voted against - racism – he was not surprised; he accepted it as something that happens,” one other friend recalled. “He was also very hurt and very disappointed.”

  “I have been with O.J. when somebody called someone a n----r and it hurt him,” recalled Kolkovitz. “I can tell you he was affected by that. He was very offended and hurt.”

  “O.J. was a Reagan and Bush supporter,” said his friend Tom McCollum. To the Left, this is the ultimate sin within the black community, and perhaps the biggest of all liberal hypocrisies.

  While filming Killer Force, O.J. fell for his co-star, the stunning actress Maud Adams (who later did a Playboy pictorial).

  “I’m in love,” he told a friend during filming. The two had a relationship that apparently ended when he met Nicole in 1977.

  “He was feeling his oats,” recalled friend Fred Levinson.

  “I never asked too many questions in those days,” said Kris Houton Kardashian, today married to Bruce Jenner and mother of Kim Kardashian. In the 1970s she was married to O.J.’s pal and fellow USC alum Bob Kardashian. O.J. often used her as a “screener” to make phone calls or help introduce him to young women, all while he was still married. They lived in a beautiful home on Deep Canyon Drive in Beverly Hills.

  “Whenever O.J. was around the Deep Canyon house, he and Marguerite were either separated or having a fight,” said Kris, adding that O.J.’s wife “never had a smile on her face.” Even at her wedding rehearsal, Marguerite “seemed so unhappy.”

  According to a friend of Marguerite’s, an actor’s ex-wife, she was “madly in love with” O.J., but felt “totally shoved in the background.”

  “I feel very abused in this relationship,” Marguerite once confided.

  “ ‘Abused,’ that was the word,” her friend recalled. “”That was the word. But I never knew if she meant physical or mental.”

  “Back then, among the people in sports circles, it was generally believed that O.J. was beating Marguerite,” said Cyndy Garvey, the ex-wife of Dodgers star Steve Garvey. “I can’t tell you how we knew – we just all knew it, just as everyone knew that certain Dodgers were doing cocaine during games. Marguerite was known to wear sunglasses all the time, inside as well as outside. I remember being at some sports event in Hawaii and seeing Marguerite with those sunglasses on. The person next to me said, ‘Well, he hit her again.’ ”

  In the murder investigation of 1994, the D.A.’s office discovered at least two separate occasions in which Marguerite contacted the police fearing physical attacks from her husband. This is O.J.’s “Achilles heel.” He was a man’s man who preferred the company of men. He was loyal, generous and giving, but he could not keep his hands off of women; first to have sex with them and then, if enraged, to
hit them. He did it away from prying eyes, and for “political” reasons his women did not want others to know, but it was known.

  “Yet whatever violence there may have been was hidden,” wrote Sheila Weller. “O.J. wowed everyone.”

  “Here was a guy with incredible charisma,” said Kris Kardashian. “He had great personality. He could charm the pants – I mean the socks – off anyone. When you’re in a room with O.J., you’re taken in. You’re in awe. There’s nobody who can have more fun at a party than O.J. Simpson. And what fun we had.”

  All of this was happening amid the incredibly exciting world of professional athletics in LA.’s greatest sports decade; the world of USC in USC’s greatest football decade; the Hollywood world in its greatest era; the height of Playboy’s popularity and its most outrageous parties; mixed with a coterie of models, designers and Beautiful People who make up the social scene of Beverly Hills and westside L.A. It was the greatest era the Southland has ever known, and to be a Los Angeleno was like being a Roman noble at the apex of the empire’s power and influence.

  O.J. Simpson was the center of this crazy scene, as popular and in demand as any box office star or director. His crossover appeal reached to every corner without regard to race or niche. To many, both men and women, their friendship with this man was their ticket to the good life, and they were not about to blow it by revealing a few inconvenient rumors about O.J.; such as his occasionally hitting Marguerite.

  “O.J. was absolutely a social climber,” said Tom, McCollum. “He was socially driven. He did really believe he could be on the board of Hertz. He would go into these almost dream-like trances where he believed he had a future in politics, where ego and naïve power and delusions of grandeur took over.”

  “Being O.J.’s friend anointed a man, laid an invisible mantle on his shoulders,” wrote Sheila Weller, while producing “the immense loyalty these men had for O.J.”

  Of all these, Kardashian was at once as loyal to O.J. as any others, yet less “dependent” on him. Kardashian, the former student manager of the USC football team, already established wealth, success and a Hollywood lifestyle when O.J. arrived on the scene in the early off-seasons of his pro football career. In the beginning, it was O.J. who wanted to emulate Kardashian, but perhaps because of the shared USC experience, when neither was yet wealthy, Kardashian would remain as loyal a friend as O.J. ever had.

  Many of his male friends recall that while O.J.’s light flared bright, and much joy came from simply being around him, he was extremely open in his friendship. He did not just wait for sycophants to call and ask to be with him; he often called out of the blue to initiate get-togethers, as when he came over to see the newborn son of his friend Joe Stellini.

  “He wanted to be accepted,” one of O.J.’s black friends said. “And they hailed him as the Juice. The ‘black super jock.’ That was a safe, flattering way to go for him,” adding that O.J. knew he “wasn’t very good” at acting or broadcasting, and therefore needed people to assure him, because he was “really insecure” and had “trouble with very intelligent people like Howard Cosell and Bob Costas.” Once asked about Costas, O.J. called him cocky, but he intimidated him.

  In 1977, Marguerite “manipulated” O.J. into buying a new home. It was ostensibly her way of trying to save their marriage, which needed saving with a third child on the way. The house, formerly owned by actor Gig Young (They Shoot Horses, Don’t They?) was purchased for $650,000. It was a Tudor located on 3005 Rockingham, and in May of that year the Simpsons made the move from 3005 Elvill. Marguerite was six months pregnant.

  A woman whose husband was a luxury jewelry storeowner and friend of O.J., soon received a phone call from her young daughter. She was with her dad at Rockingham one day shortly after the move. Crying, she told her mother, “They’re doing bad things.” When asked, she told her mom O.J. “yells at his wife and he shoved her and Daddy was weird.” The “weird” father was rumored to snort coke with O.J.

  While all of this was happening, Nicole Brown was graduating from Dana Hills High School. Almost immediately, she moved into David LeBon’s one-bedroom apartment on First and Virgil, downtown L.A. It was not exactly Beverly Hills, especially in those days, long before the revitalization of the inner city. Apparently, they were not lovers, sleeping separately. The apartment had no phone. Shortly thereafter, Nicole got a job at Jax, one of the most exclusive clothing stores in Los Angeles. It was owned by O.J.’s friend Jack Hansen, and frequented by O.J., who bought many of his conservative, yet stylish, clothes there. Many celebrities patronized Jax.

  Two weeks later, Hansen decided she was too beautiful to work as a salesgirl at Jax. He also owned a trendy bistro, the Daisy on Rodeo Drive, and wanted her to be a waitress, mixing with the Beautiful People, who ate, drank and partied there. Within a short time, O.J. Simpson came into the Daisy with a large group. They all recalled watching him “fall in love” then and there, with Nicole Brown. It was late June of 1977. Nicole was barely 18 years old. He was 12 years her senior.

  “Jack, who’s that girl?” he asked Hansen, an ex-baseball player for the Los Angeles Angels in the Pacific Coast League. Hansen made the introduction, and they both flirted with each other. That night O.J. called his friend Mike Militello from Buffalo, now living in L.A.

  “I want you to meet this fabulous girl,” O.J. told him. “We have to go to lunch at the Daisy tomorrow.”

  Mike and O.J. met at the Daisy, where O.J. spoke more to Nicole. The next day he brought Bob Kardashian with him.

  “Nicole was beautiful, smart, and funny – and totally unimpressed with who O.J. was,” recalled Militello. O.J. was “in over his head” with this blond girl from Laguna, not the other way around. He was “infatuated.”

  Nicole, not a huge football fan, and not even a college girl, much less a USC Trojan, had to ask Militello who he was. Then Tom McCollum was brought along to see Nicole. It was as if O.J. needed the approval of all his friends. With a wife at home in their new house, waiting to deliver their third child, he was already thinking hard and heavy about leaving her and taking up with Nicole. But McCollum noticed what he perceived to be a sense of “insecurity” about Nicole, which she mostly hid under the veneer of beauty, wit and a dazzling smile.

  After one of the lunches at the Daisy, O.J. strolled down the street to the store of a friend named Alan Austin.

  “Alan, I met the most beautiful girl,” he told Austin.

  “I knew by his voice that it was not frivolous, that this was going to be permanent,” recalled Austin.

  On Friday, with a big party planned for that evening, O.J. arrived at the Daisy again. Several of O.J.’s friends were there when he asked Nicole if she wanted to go to the party with him.

  “Yes,” she replied.

  O.J. Simpson, married man, father of soon-to-be-three, role model, pitchman one of the most admired men in the world, had fallen both in love and in lust with Nicole Brown. All that week, Nicole gushed to David LeBon about “him.”

  “I’m going out with him,” she told LeBon. “He’s a famous football player. What should I wear?”

  She put on a pair of tight jeans and a silk shirt. O.J. picked her up in the lobby and they drove to Stellini’s restaurant in his vintage black Rolls Silver Cloud with the license plate “JUICE.” Afterward, they parked in a secluded spot where O.J. tore her jeans off and they had sex.

  LeBon was shocked to see Nicole, disheveled, her jeans torn, when she arrived home. His first reaction was that she had been raped, but she just told him no, she “liked” him.

  Love

  O.J. immediately set Nicole up with her own apartment in Westwood, a far safer neighborhood, conveniently near Rockingham. Then O.J. told Marguerite that she had “tricked” him into getting pregnant a third time, and that their marriage was over. Nicole’s immediate concern was that she had broken up a marriage, but O.J. had been cheating on her for years and it was only a matter of time.

  But Nicole immediatel
y fell head over heels in love with him. Exactly what the nature of that love was is speculation. She had likely never been with a black man before. Perhaps this was “exotic” or even taboo. Like many of O.J.’s friends, she sensed from the beginning that association with him had social benefits. She already had a nice, safe apartment because of him. Marriage to this wealthy, famous Hollywood player could potentially set her up for life, and for the life. But she came from affluence, not the projects, and was smart enough to succeed on her own as Denise already was doing. Friends say she genuinely fell in love with a handsome, engaging fellow, the O.J. everybody else loved.

  She also knew how to play games, according to Denise, who said Nicole would listen to the phone ring and not answer it, or tell O.J. she was dating others guy who did not exist, “just to make him jealous,” said Denise.

  “I knew if I gave in to him he wouldn’t really want me,” Nicole told Denise.

  “She knew right away that this was the man she really wanted,” said Denise. “That this was the man she was going to be with.”

  “She was O.J.’s woman now,” wrote Sheila Weller, adding that she quit her job at the Daisy. She gave up her goal of applying to the Brooks Photography Institute. She became a “kept woman’ at age 18. At the time, O.J. was making $2.5 million in the third year of his contract with the Buffalo Bills. Entering the 1977 season, he was still considered the best running back in the National Football League during one of its most golden eras. He was still working as a broadcaster in the off-season, switching from ABC to NBC, with a handsome five-year contract, plus a lucrative deal to promote Hertz among other corporations.

  “Eve, I’ve met somebody and you’ll know who he is,” Nicole told Eve Chin.

  “He’s so wonderful. I know you’re going to like him.”

  Nicole moved into fancier digs on Bedford and Charleville, just south of Wilshire Boulevard. Eve helped her decorate it tastefully with “warmth and sunshine.”

  She also met Al Cowlings, described by Sheila Weller as “O.J.’s errand-doer and Better Self.” The three traveled together to the Caribbean.

  “I just remember thinking how beautiful she was, and how young, and how blond,” Kris Kardashian recalled of meeting Nicole. “She lit up his life.”

  When Nicole, O.J. and Mike Militello went to Disneyland, she called her mother and told her she was coming by. She “warned” her mom that one of her friends was black.

  “I didn’t know how to be prejudiced,” recalled Judi. “People are people to me.”

  Judi broke out a bottle of wine in honor of the occasion, and they stayed overnight at the Brown’s house. Nicole played the relationship off as casual, but Judi immediately knew it was serious. Judi did not know he was a famed football star. O.J. said that was won of the attractions of Nicole and her family. Groupies and hangers-on, trying to get something from his gridiron fame, constantly approached him but this was different.

  Lou was a tougher sell. He once told Nicole growing up in Texas he was not prejudiced until he met a black kid, who apparently was less than impressive and caused Lou to have negative feelings he previously did not have. His main concern was not that O.J. was black, but that society would make it difficult for an inter-racial couple. As the romance developed, in the early days he was kept in the dark about its seriousness. O.J. told Nicole that his own mother was not happy he was with a white girl.

  O.J. was in training camp with the Bills when his daughter Aaren was born. He returned to be with his wife, but mainly stayed with Nicole at the Bedford love nest. With Marguerite staying in L.A. to take car of the infant Aaren, Nicole flew to Buffalo to be with O.J. She moved right into the Deer Run Road House,

  In his first home game witnessed by Nicole at Rich Stadium – the house O.J. built, in many ways - O.J. ran for over 200 yards. It was only then that the true magnitude of his sports superstardom dawned on Nicole Brown.

  After the game, however, O.J. saw Nicole give their friend Mike Militello an innocent kiss of thanks on the cheek. O.J. became enraged and the two had their first fight. Then they went to a post-game party, had a great time, and all was forgotten.

  Marguerite surely knew all that was going on. It was embarrassing for her. First O.J. paraded Nicole all over the westside, now she was in their home in Buffalo, obviously and visibly his girlfriend, at all the games. All the Bills’ wives and girlfriends - her friends – could plainly see what was happening. Less than a month after Aaren’s birth, she filed for a formal separation.

  O.J.’s fame and celebrity was at its all-time peak. There are very few people of any profession in American history who ever were as well known and idolized as he was at the point. Nicole basked in it, and took great pride that she was with a black man. It seemed to be a badge of honor telling the world she was not prejudiced. It was also quite accepted by 1977-1978. The 1960s were over. The civil rights demonstrations of the South were a thing of the past. College programs like Alabama and Texas were now fully integrated, with superstar African-American players like Earl Campbell of the Longhorns strutting across the stage.

  The 1970 game between the integrated USC Trojans and segregated Alabama Crimson Tide had a monumental effect, now opening doors for full recruitment of black stars in Dixie. The integration of the South, after so many years of struggle, suddenly occurred seamlessly and without incident, really. In 1978, USC traveled to Birmingham for a re-match with coach Bear Bryant’s Crimson Tide. Alabama had a fully integrated team, but the news was the lack of news. Nobody thought to even point it out, as by then it was so normal an occurrence. This resulted in irony. USC beat Alabama, but both teams finished the season with one loss and victories in their respective bowl games. Normally, with two teams so evenly matched, one team beating the other in that team’s home stadium would answer any debate over who was number one. In 1966, Alabama was unbeaten with a victory over Nebraska in the Sugar Bowl, but finished third in the Associated Press poll behind Notre Dame and Michigan State, both with a tie and no bowl invite. The “Catholic vote” combined with a common desire to punish ‘Bama for being all white was blamed on this event in Dixie. Now, 12 years later, the same voters awarded Bear for changing with the times successfully. The A.P. named Alabama the national champion. USC, the school that had given such opportunity to blacks like O.J. Simpson for decades, had to settle for a split title (the UPI vote).

  This was a reflection of new attitudes in general society. In 1977 the television program Roots aired to much fanfare. O.J. had a small role playing an African during the slave trade. His relationship with a white woman was much more easily accepted than Sammy Davis’s controversial marriage to a Swedish actress in the early 1960s.

  Nicole’s relationship with O.J. seemed to change her very opinions and desires. One friend, Susie Kehoe, recalled that she now seemed to find black men not just attractive, but even preferable to whites. She would open a magazine and invariably show Susie a photo of some black man.

  “Hey, look at this gorgeous guy,” Nicole would gush.

  Despite getting off to a strong start, O.J.‘s skills began to deteriorate in 1977. The team suffered. The powerhouses of the American Football Conference were the Pittsburgh Steelers, the Oakland Raiders, the Miami Dolphins, and the Denver Broncos. Buffalo, a play-off team a few years earlier, had never been able to break into the upper echelon. The Bills traded the great O.J. Simpson to his hometown team, the San Francisco 49ers, prior to the 1978 season.

  It could have been a successful homecoming, a chance for O.J. to enjoy glory playing for the team he watched as a kid, when he earned a nickel for each seat cushion he sold at old Kezar Stadium. The team now played at Candlestick Park, where O.J. would wait outside until Willie Mays would come and hang with the local black kids from Potrero Hill.

  Any greatness O.J. may still have possessed in 1978 was lost because the 49ers could not block for him. The Bills offensive line in his heyday was the best in pro football; a huge reason for his great success, whi
ch O.J. freely stated and rewarded with dinner for his blockers.

  But the 49ers were a woeful franchise. They had been contenders in the 1950s, and with star quarterback John Brodie had won three straight division titles from 1970 to 1972. A young Edward DeBartolo Jr. had recently purchased the team, but their great coach of the 1980s dynasty, Bill Walsh was still at Stanford, and his star quarterback, Joe Montana was still at Notre Dame. Superstar safety Ronnie Lott was still at O.J.’s alma mater, USC.

  The club fell apart after Brodie retired, and the Los Angels Rams now dominated the NFC West. The Dallas Cowboys were the power team in the conference. The 49ers were also overshadowed by the Oakland Raiders across the bay; the height of Al Davis’s empire.

  O.J. missed playing with another former West Coast college star, 1970 Heisman winner Jim Plunkett of Stanford. Plunkett was a disappointment in New England, and his homecoming in San Francisco was a failure, too. He was dumped off to the Raiders before the 1978 campaign, where incredibly he would resurrect his career a few years later. O.J. needed no such resurrection, having never stumbled, but his glory days on the gridiron were a thing of the past.

  But the trade to Fan Francisco also re-united him with Al Cowlings. Teammates in San Francisco youth football, at Galileo High, CCSF, USC, and from 1970 to 1972 in Buffalo, Cowlings had gone to Houston (1973-1974), the Rams (1975, a division champion), Seattle for a year, then back to the Rams in 1977, before landing on his hometown team in 1978.

  Nicole and O.J. moved into a large, loft-style condominium he purchased in San Francisco. It was before the tech revolution that revitalized the City and the region. San Francisco was somewhat shabby, lacking the grandeur of its days as the hub of the West Coast. Los Angeles had all the glamour and sex appeal in those days. A pretty girl like Nicole was almost a “sighting” in San Francisco, whose bars were dominated by gay men. It was often cold and foggy, not the kind of weather that a tanned beach girl like Nicole could parade around in wearing skimpy, tight clothes.

  But it was exciting for Nicole, who invited Eve Chen to fly up and see their condo . . . and to meet O.J. for the first time.

  “It was such a dear, sweet love,” Eve recalled. “You could tell they both adored each other.”

  O.J. took Nicole and Eve to all the San Francisco haunts, including Ghirardelli Square in north beach, where he went to high school. Eve also noticed that O.J. seemed to “use” her to gain his way, to “lobby” her friends to his way of thinking.

  All the while, the minister who ran the housing project in O.J.’s old neighborhood, and his boyhood pal Joe Bell, were trying to get O.J. and Marguerite back together. But when O.J.’s mother, Eunice Simpson, met Nicole, she knew she was now the woman in her son’s life. Nicole also met O.J.’s gay father Jimmy, a gourmet cook who charmed her by teaching her a series of recipes she could use to cook for O.J.

  But Lou Brown had not yet met O.J. Shortly before Nicole’s 19th birthday in May 1978, she had an altercation with O.J. and he punched her in the face. Nicole expertly hid a black eye with make-up, then returned to Laguna, to get away from O.J. and celebrate her birthday. O.J. pulled up to their Laguna home in a black Porsche 914, with a big bow tied to its hood. A friend followed behind him in another car. When Lou came out to see the luxury car, O.J. was gone with his friend.

  Nicole told him it was a gift from “someone I’ve been seeing.” Then she told him it was O.J. Simpson.

  “I think my father’s reaction was, ‘Well, if it’s gonna be a black guy, I’m glad it’s someone who’s not a bum,’ ” said Denise Brown. Lou and O.J. still had not met. O.J.’s gift was not just an act of reconciliation, but part of the on-going pattern of coercion Eve Chen noticed; his ability to manipulate the situation using her friends and family. Now Nicole was listening to her father and friends speak admiringly of this gift, distracting her from the fact he had hit her.

  “I should have left him, but I took it!” she told a confidante years later, after O.J. beat her in 1989. “I was so stupid – driving around in a brand new Porsche in Beverly Hills with a black eye.”

  A pattern was now established that would never end; fights, followed by reconciliation, often with O.J. using somebody close to Nicole – sometimes Judi – to get back in her good graces. Nicole had very little if any experience with men, certainly not fully mature ones, before O.J. He was already an established womanizer and, after his initial infatuation following a divorce, O.J. returned to his normal behavior.

  During O.J.’s first season in San Francisco (1978), he began seeing other women. Between training camp and road trips, he was separated from her often and had numerous opportunities. He may have had girlfriends in San Francisco, a town that opened itself up to him in every way. He owned the City in the manner of such legends as Joe DiMaggio and Willie Mays.

  Nicole learned of his indiscretions and again drove eight hours to Laguna, where she told Judi about it. “I’m never going back there,” she declared.

  But shortly thereafter she had a phone conversation with O.J. In that call, O.J. simply told her that if she did not return, he would find “another girlfriend” and have sex with her.

  Nicole drove eight hours back to San Francisco. He “owned” her now.

  During the 1979 pre-season, little Aaren, the child Marguerite “tricked” O.J. into having, drowned in the family swimming pool in Los Angeles. When O.J. arrived at the hospital, he accused Marguerite of “murdering” the baby, although by all accounts it was a freak occurrence and not her fault. While their eventual divorce was a fait accompli, this event sped up the process.

  But even in tragedy O.J. was a master manipulator. During this period of time, Lakers owner Jack Kent Cooke was going through what the Guinness Book of World Records declared to be the largest divorce settlement in history. California family law over the previous two decades favored ex-wives more than any state, but O.J. used the grief over Aaren’s drowning, as well as his attorney Skip Taft’s intimate knowledge of Marguerite’s assets, to arrange a settlement that fell far short of other celebrity divorce agreements of the era. In that settlement, O.J. ended up with the Rockingham estate, a major reversal from normal settlements (especially when children are involved). O.J. had to have Marguerite removed from the house, almost violently, when she refused to leave.

  O.J.’s pro career ended not with a bang but with a whimper, although in 1979 he did play for Bill Walsh and was teammates with Joe Montana. The team was a desultory 2-14, but there were signs of the glory days that would follow in the 1980s. In an otherwise meaningless Candlestick Park game against the New Orleans Saints, the 49ers trailed at halftime, 35-7. In the second half, Montana engineered a miracle comeback, like those he specialized in at Notre Dame and later in San Francisco. The 49ers won, 38-35 in overtime. To this day pundits point to this as the beginning of the 49ers five-Super Bowl champion dynasty.

  With his career over, O.J. and Nicole moved into the Rockingham house, permanent SoCal residents. He had acted in numerous movies over the years and wanted to make this a successful new career. Holidays were now regular events there. It became the center of social activity among O.J.’s large circle of friends. The Browns regularly came up. Nicole made sure O.J.’s bachelor friends were invited and that attractive single girls would be there.

  Nicole recalled how proud O.J. was of that house, but noted that he also called it “ ‘My house – ‘My,’ ‘my,’ ‘my.’ ” To friends O.J. confided an abiding fear of the grinding poverty of his youth, vowing like Scarlett O’Hara to “never be poor in my life again.”

  Before he contracted AIDS, Jimmy Simpson came to Rockingham and cooked a “fabulous” Southern meal of collard green and okra. A.C. “came with the territory,” wrote Sheila Weller. He was known to take Nicole’s side when she and O.J. fought, and the Browns always felt – even later – that he was a “good guy,” said Denise.

  “Sometimes, in fact, the Browns liked A.C. more than O.J. did,” wrote Sheila Weller, adding that as late a
s the 1980s he and O.J. actually got into fist fights on occasion, but that “need and shared history drove them back to each other.” Cowlings may have been the only one of O.J.’s friends “allowed” to side against him and remain part of the inner circle.

  O.J.’s violent tendencies were often on display. He regularly destroyed inanimate objects. Everybody who observed this gave him a pass. He was O.J. Simpson, not a psychopath. He was charming and handsome. Judi was old school, from Germany, where wives routinely adhered to their husbands. She laughed his rages off.

  Once on a ski vacation a fresh-faced young fellow with a British accent approached O.J. He told O.J. he was a big fan and that he was Prince Andrew, at the time second in line to be King of England. O.J. mocked him, thinking it a hoax, and asked for his driver’s license. He produced a license with the British Crown on it. He was Prince Andrew.

  O.J. continued to be an “incorrigible flirt,” one friend recalled, hitting on any cute girl he came across regardless of Nicole’s proximity. These included wives, girlfriends, even daughters of friends. Nicole did not take it quietly. She badgered him about it and called him “large head,” a variation on his childhood moniker “water head,” since O.J.’s skull was indeed so big the Buffalo Bills had to have a special helmet built for him.

  Eventually, the necessary act of bringing O.J.’s children into their life occurred. Marguerite had a brief relationship with a rabbi, but it did not last. She moved to Encino, but the two surviving children began spending time with their father at the Rockingham estate. Arnelle admitted that at first Nicole’s race was an issue, but they eventually became good friends. Jason and Nicole liked similar music. O.J. lobbied for Jason to move in with them.

  The wives and girlfriends of O.J.’ pals were astonished at the hero worship exhibited to the Juice by his friends, many of whom were self-made entrepreneurs not easily given to such sentiments. “O.J. is a god to all these men,” stated Robin Greer, ex-wife of Mark Slotkin, part of the inner circle. “He can do no wrong. It’s disgusting! It was also a little bizarre and scary.”

  Greer also noted that one key to getting into that inner circle was to win Nicole’s approval. As she matured, she was becoming adept at the society life she was living. As she gained confidence, she started to bait O.J. with little criticisms, or to compare his looks – unfavorably – with some handsome man she might see.

  O.J. organized a softball team – O.J.’s All-Stars – in a regular game at Roxbury Park on Olympic Boulevard, near the Daisy and Stellini’s, their favorite hangouts and post-game destinations. Eventually the game moved to a field in Mandeville Canyon. The team consisted of some of the best athletes in the world, at various times including Kareem Abdul-Jabbar at first base, Lynn Swann catching, along with Bobby Chandler, Ahmad Rashad, Reggie McKenzie, and A.C.

  Others in the league were a collection of actors, movie producers and entrepreneurs. It was the “in crowd,” something people wanted to be part of in Hollywood. Many of the participants had USC connections. To be a Trojan on top of everything else was to be anointed as royalty. USC, long home of the best film school in the nation, was by the 1980s beginning to dominate the movie industry, its graduates filling the ranks of producers, agents and studio executives. It was also around this time that a young Trojan football player began to associate with the group. His name was Marcus Allen.

  A member of USC’s 1978 national championship team as a freshman, Allen was a teammate of Charles White when White won the 1979 Heisman Trophy with the unbeaten Trojans. When Allen won USC‘s fourth Heisman in 1981, he entered a very rare club that included Army’s “Mr. Inside” (Doc Blanchard) and “Mr. Outside” (Glenn Davis), Heisman teammates.

  Of all the great USC running backs over the years, Allen most closely resembled O.J. Simpson in size, speed and even physical good looks. He broke not just Simpson’s college rushing records, but many other records held by some of the great running back who ever played. Allen gained well over 2,000 yards in 1981 and was the first round draft choice of the Raiders, about to move from Oakland to play in his college stadium, the Coliseum in 1982.

  Allen was extremely intelligent and media savvy, at the time envisioning a career beyond football in the movies or broadcasting. He was a social climber. With his looks, women wanted to be with him. With his charisma, men wanted to be him. He was nicknamed “Young Juice” because he reminded everybody of O.J. Allen was immediately invited into the inner circle. He was already in the most insider’s club of all, the Heisman hierarchy, and became fast friends with O.J., a mentor of sorts. He was one year younger than Nicole, the woman who would see photos of a handsome black man in magazines and declare how “gorgeous” they were.

  O.J. and Allen would hang out together, particularly attending USC games on Saturdays when the Raiders were also at home. Allen maintained discretion about his romantic life, but O.J. did not.

  “The men and the women were always seriously divided on the subject of O.J.,” said Kris Kardashian. “He had such a reputation for infidelity. The women cared for Nicole and went, ‘Oh, he’s such an idiot - he’ll screw anything in a dress.’ The guys were like, ‘Oh, he’s just a big teddy bear.’ The guys were so forgiving of him.”

  (One of these women, who spent years coming to the Rockingham estate, was there enough to know that O.J., “always” parked on the street in front of the house. It was a pattern established over almost 20 years, yet on Jun 12, 1994, for the first time ever, with the limo driver parked in front, not wanting to be seen, he parked on the side street.)

  Of course, in this frat boy environment, O.J. was the veritable “rush chairman.” He organized many events that did not include the wives and girlfriends. They did include beautiful young girls, often Playmates, models and starlets. These men were not just forgiving of O.J., they were emulating him. Access to hot chicks came through access to O.J. They were not about to blow it with a moral stand. With the birth of the Kardashian children, party central truly switched from their home to the Rockingham estate.

  Nicole bristled at O.J.’s womanizing and sometimes left to calm down. One female friend of O.J.’s recalled phone calls he made to her during these episodes, in which Simpson sounded completely disoriented and was “not a normal person.” Another time he screamed and swore so vehemently the woman thought to herself that he was “a monster.” Another friend heard O.J. scream and yell at Nicole, then stated, “He was an animal.”

  Housekeeper Maria Baur said Nicole wore sunglasses inside the house, to either hide black-and-blue marks from O.J.’s assaults or the fact she was crying. Patrons at Regular John’s, a pizza place the family frequented, said O.J. was “verbally abusive” to her. He called her “white trash.”

  Robin Greer said he always had a ready excuse and was “perfectly charming,” adding, ”There’s a lot of duality in that man.” Later Nicole confided in her that she had bruises on her face.

  While it is disputed how he received it, or who gave it to him, O.J. apparently came into possession of an Uzi machine gun – “the weapon of choice of the Medellin drug cartel,” wrote Sheila Weller - which Nicole’s friends thought “scared” her. She knew of his gun collection, but he kept his knife collection secret from her. Around this time Nicole allegedly told an undisclosed friend, “O.J. said he would kill me if I left him. Or if I cheated on him.” She told stories of O.J. beating her with a win bottle.

  “My ribs were all broken,” she supposedly said.

  Some of these stories were told by anonymous sources after the tragedy of 1994. They may not all be true, but there are enough of them to form a pattern. What apparently can be verified is a call Nicole made to a security guard . . . contracted by O.J. to guard the house.

  O.J. calmly told the guard all was well, and he left.

  “They all kiss his ass!” Nicole said in disgust.

  Cowlings had to drive Nicole to the hospital, where Nicole apparently lied and said she fell off her bicycle, mirroring the tale of an injury
sustained in her childhood at an ice rink. She knew that a public humiliation of O.J. could end much of their income, deriving from his image of goodwill in the form of broadcasting and commercial gigs. She was still in her early 20s, not yet even married to this man, but she was vulnerable and dependent. She was seduced by the good life just as all O.J.’s poker pals and fellow skirt-chasers were.

  “I could never leave him,” Nicole told friend Linda Schulman.

  According to notes obtained later by the Los Angeles District Attorney’s office, O.J.’s “preferred” place to beat his wife was their wine cellar. It was quiet and out of the way. Nobody could hear any shouts from down there. He is said to have locked her there, gone upstairs to watch a sports event, then returned to beat her more. These are acts not just of assault and battery, but also of kidnapping, one of the most serious crimes on the books.

  Nicole “told” Denise about it, but somehow in the telling did not make it sound so bad. The psychology behind this could fill medical books. She had remarkable “bounce back” qualities, despite her vulnerability believed she was strong enough to handle the situation, and still loved the charming rake. He could of course express great love and tender feelings for her which, despite the horrors, any psychiatrist would say were, incredibly, still legitimate. The world of women who love the men who abuse them is not, to use a term with several meanings in this case, more than “black and white.” Linda Schulman felt Nicole did not reveal the true extent of her situation because she had too much pride to have friends saying, “Poor Nicole . . .”

  Then there was the cocaine. It was the apex of the cocaine era. A young college student then at Columbia University, Barack Hussein Obama, stated in his own autobiography that he was regularly doing “blow” in his Waikiki youth, continuing as a college kid.

  L.A.’s westside was the epicenter of the American coke scene in the early 1980s. O.J. Simpson was well known to be a cocaine freak, although many who knew him insisted that he only did it to party, never when he was playing football. Many nefarious characters in the L.A. drug scene came around after the 1994 tragedy to tell of O.J. coke stories. Oddly, this would prove slightly helpful to him, lending to the notion that his accusers were “liars” and “criminals,” spreading just the whiff of chance that Nicole got caught up in a drug operation of some kind, and that in this operation could be found the “real killers.” The “coke story” people were lumped by his defense in with many who told more legitimate stories of his abuse of Nicole, although the evidence of O.J.’s cocaine habit was so widespread that it cannot be denied.

  Frankly, coke use, especially then and there, was “normal,” almost thought of as a victimless crime. It was comic Richard Pryor’s narrow brush with a fiery death after freebasing, and basketball player Len Bias’s overdose from “crack” cocaine, that truly woke the nation up to its horrors. Cocaine use had spread as an outgrowth of the gateway drug marijuana during the 1960s. All those poor hippies were now YUPPIES (young upwardly mobile professionals), especially in the entertainment industry. But by the 1980s it was an epidemic, and overdoses were becoming frequent. It practically invented the drug rehabilitation industry.

  But while his coke habit existed, O.J.’s sports discipline was so ingrained in him that he avoided true addiction. He also liked to golf early in the morning and did not like to be hung over when he did that. Nicole apparently did her share of coke, according to sources, but there is no evidence it became a real problem for her.

  O.J. still had vague political aspirations, and knew if he ever went down that road he had to be clean. He was probably quite sure that his friends were all so loyal to the Juice that none would ever tell tales out school, and he seems also to have been living in a state of denial about beating Nicole. It seems hard to imagine he simply convinced himself it was not something that happened, but there are people who do that and he may have been one of them. An intervention of some kind may well have pointed him to the truth, but there was no person or persons on Earth who were going to engage in any kind of intervention of O.J. Simpson. Not his friends. They wanted to party on and he was the fun master.

  But sometimes the tables were reversed. A friend, Billy Kehoe, was an out-of-control drunk who punched his wife at Lakers owner Jerry Buss’s party. Afterward O.J. spoke to him for four hours and offered to pay for his alcohol rehabilitation, not to mention putting his kids through military school. It was a reversal in which O.J. was counseling a friend not to do what he was doing, and his denial was such that O.J. may very easily not have realized the entire time he counseled his pal, that did the same things.

  On another occasion, Nicole got extremely drunk and embarrassed O.J. in the presence of Frank Sinatra during a Vegas trip. O.J. threw her out of their hotel room and locked the door. Nicole had to wait half-naked in the hallway.

  To the average person reading these accounts, the normal reaction, especially knowing how it will all end, is to scream, “Get out.” O.J. Simpson had an eye for many ladies, but from the beginning Nicole was different. He saw in her something more than any girlfriend he ever had. As a married man, he was guilty of having lust in his heart from the beginning. He tore Nicole’s pant off and had sex with her in a car on their first date, eschewing even a hotel room. But he apparently also fell in love at first sight, and immediately set about marrying her.

  He needed marriage, a steady woman in his life. He married Marguerite while still in school, and set out to marry Nicole before the divorce papers with Marguerite were even filed. He easily could have been a “player,” a single man going from one hot babe to another, an endless procession of Playmates, models and slutty chicks, all found in great abundance at practically every turn in Los Angeles. While he did go through these kinds of girls like a hot knife through butter, he had some sort of conditioned reflex – perhaps because his parents were divorced – to be married. He was married from age 19 to age 32 and needed that stability.

  Nicole was swept off her feet, not just by O.J.’s fame, but his charisma. She saw the same things, and loved him for the same reasons, that his many male friends loved him. The difference was that O.J. knew only love with other men. He was the best friend in the world, a man of total loyalty. His need to control women, however, forced him from his usual self – the loving husband/boyfriend – to a violent predator with women.

  Perhaps the fact his father was gay explains this. O.J. surely knew of his dad’s sexual orientation at least by his 20s, if not well before that. He may have wanted to prove himself a “he man,” the opposite of a fairy. What better way than to lead a semi-violent youth gang, to excel in the manliest of all sports if not activities, football? Or to prove his manhood by bedding the most beautiful women in the world, one after the other? Then, to exert his control by showing who was the “boss”? But of all other acts, what most thoroughly disproves any whiff of homosexuality than the act of marriage, and then children?

  Nicole Brown often exhibited strength and independence. She moved out of the safety of her parent’s home at 18 to live in downtown Los Angeles. Perhaps if she had pursued a modeling career like her sister, who was no more beautiful than she was, things would have been different. Denise was on her own, a success, soon after high school. This motivated Nicole to make her mark, but the money and self-confidence that Denise experienced was not forthcoming. She wanted too be a photographer, but real success in this field could be years down the road.

  Then, almost immediately, came O.J. Simpson. Nicole never had the chance to really succeed on her own. This wealthy, controlling man offered all the answers to her quest for the good life, shelter in the naked city. It was seductive, as he was seductive. While his personality, his looks, his smile, his wonderfulness, which despite everything was the defining part of what almost everybody knew of him, made her always come back, to love him apparently without condition, she also depended on him. As each year passed, never having gone to college or established any sort of career, Nicole knew that if she left
O.J. she would have nothing. Many call girls and porn stars in Hollywood could tell a similar tale, but she was raised far too right to ever do something like that.

  She could move back in with Lou and Judi, but after being in the middle of Hollywood’s glamorous social whirl, that was not an option. O.J. was like the devil, offering no good alternative but his own.

  Marriage

  The abuse was so bad that Nicole was by the 1980s keeping notes on many of the incidents. She instinctively knew the man she loved was capable of hurting her, or worse. Despite this, she still wanted to marry him. The cynic might say that she was already planning to reap a big divorce settlement even before the wedding. Despite his retirement, his income was still tremendous from Hertz, other endorsements, broadcasting, acting, and investments. While the assets he brought into the marriage were likely protected, the considerable wealth he would make after the marriage would be subject to California’s liberal divorce laws.

  In 1976, Lee Marvin’s live-in girlfriend Michelle Triola, sued the veteran actor for something called “palimony,” claiming that while not legally married, they lived together as husband and wife, or what the English called a “common law” marriage. She ultimately did not succeed, although the case opened up more rights for women and wives. The enormous Jack Kent Cooke divorce, which resulted in the forced sale of the Lakers to Jerry Buss, was big news at the time. A marriage certificate was in many ways Nicole’s ultimate security policy. Children would greatly increase the value of that policy.

  Nicole began to prod O.J. to let her have children. While children are born out of wedlock all the time, especially among Hollywood libertines and African-Americans since the Great Society of 1964-1965, O.J. was a traditional man who did not want his reputation sullied. His bread was buttered most notably by wealthy, white, conservative men (in sports or advertising), and in the 1980s after years in the wilderness, these were the men returning the nation to prosperity under President Ronald Reagan (who O.J. voted for).

  But if O.J. supported conservative causes, he was a fraud and hypocrite when it came to abortion. One of Reagan’s most forceful planks was the abortion issue. As California Governor he had signed a lenient abortion law, thinking that it would actually cause more women to seek medical opinions that would ultimately result in their choosing life instead of illegal, “back alley” abortions. To his consternation, the results were the opposite. When Roe v. Wade became national law in 1973, genocide resulted. He campaigned against it with the fervor of the converted.

  “I already have two kids,” O.J. would tell Nicole when she brought up the subject.

  Twice Nicole got pregnant. Twice O.J. forced her into abortions. Nicole was no saint. She had her own agenda. She could badger O.J. to the point of driving him batty, and could be devious. She could have taken a stand for life both times, but instead chose to kill her unborn babies. The events of 1994 were by no means the only tragedies in this Shakespearean tale.

  When O.J.’s good friend Ron Shipp married, Nicole eagerly asked Nina Shipp, “Let me see your ring.” She stared at it wistfully.

  “Boy, I wish O.J. and I were married, like you and Ron,” she added.

  Nobody who knew Nicole at the time ever said race was an issue with her. “So, he’s a little darker than me, so what?” she would say when asked. Friend Cici Shahian said Nicole felt O.J.’s “wealth and fame” would insulate the couple from the pressures society might bring to bear on “normal” inter-racial couples.

  But Nina Shipp, who gave Nicole some of the first advice she ever sought on marriage, sensed that Nicole was worried. She felt something was not quite right. Her husband was a police officer, what Sheila Weller called the “salt of the Earth.” She had an odd premonition that somehow Shipp and O.J. would converge, and that the cause of this convergence would be Nicole.

  When Susie Kehoe gave birth to her daughter in 1982, Nicole began yearning for motherhood. “Kids! Kids! That’s what I want,” she swooned. Sheila Weller wrote in Raging Heart that Nicole felt marriage and a family would go a long way towards, if not making O.J. completely faithful, at least less conspicuous about his infidelity. Nicole was “proud and traditional,” recalled Linda Schulman; not surprising since she came from that sort of background with a German mother who placed great value on family.

  In the mean time, Nicole went through O.J.’s coat pockets and called his hotel room at four in the morning when he was away on business. Often operators would inform her nobody was answering in the room. Sometimes his flings were even invited to Rockingham for tennis or parties, a terrible insult. Denise recalled one party in which no less than three of O.J.’s girlfriends came. There is no evidence that Nicole was straying on O.J.

  O.J. would be watching television and a James Bond girl, or one of Charlie’s Angels would appear on screen. He would announce, in fact boast, that he had sex with her. “O.J. could get any girl in this town,” one of his flings said. “And did.”

  While all of this certainly reflects negatively on O.J. Simpson, it again begs examination of what psychology played into Nicole’s staying. Again, her vulnerable and dependent side cannot be ignored. Possibly the need, or the seductive desire to keep the life she was living – it could only happen if she stayed with O.J. – may have been stronger than pure love for her philandering boyfriend.

  Sometimes O.J. used “beards” to take the blame for his indiscretions, like the time he went to a Lakers game with a blond beauty, all of it captured on TV for Nicole to see and hear about, only to claim she was the date of one of his male friends. Nicole banned the innocent fellow from the house for two years for enabling him. O.J. would hire prostitutes to perform oral sex on men at bachelor parties, all of which got back to Nicole.

  Nicole kept a list of license plates she suspected belonged to his girlfriends. She may have hired a private detective, but that could not be verified.

  “She was desperate,” said Denise.

  At parties, celebrities hit on her all the time. The unwritten code of celebrity hood is that infidelity comes with the territory. She was single, and while she may have been with O.J., everybody just figured they had an “arrangement.” O.J.’s philandering was so open Vin Scully might as well have broadcast it. If those celebrities knew O.J.’s jealous and violent nature, however, they would have backed off. It was a lesson for Nicole, still a small town girl from conservative Laguna. But at the 1984 Rose Bowl, when O.J. was one of the commentators, Nicole made her infatuation with Marcus Allen – by then an absolute superstar with the World Champion Los Angeles Raiders – known.

  “That Marcus Allen,” she told somebody. “I have such a crush on him! If I wasn’t with O.J., I’d go after him in a minute.”

  That is an interesting choice of words; she would go after him, not just go out with him. Small town Laguna girl or not, Nicole knew the power she possessed. Only a woman of such allure could even make man like O.J. Simpson jealous. He was with a coterie of slutty girls ranging from porn chicks to Playmates to strippers and the like, girls who slept with many men; none of whom made O.J. jealous. His attitude towards Nicole says much of his narcissistic personality. He truly believed there were special rules for him. He was different, the “chosen one.” Other celebs accepted the philandering of spouses and lovers, but O.J.’s world meant he could do all he wanted, while all others – males included, most of whom were happy to do so – worshipped the man like a god.

  Shortly after the 1984 Super Bowl – in which Allen starred in the Raiders’ 38-9 crushing of Washington – she was driving on Brighton Way in Beverly Hills. She saw O.J. “hugging and kissing” another woman, while fondling her buttocks. It was right in front of a store owned by their good friend Alan Austin, an ostentatious act.

  Nicole stopped the car and screamed at her boyfriend, then drove off. She left Rockingham and spent the night with their mutual friends Rick and Linda Schulman, who told her that while he was “a great guy,” they advised “this is not a man you can marr
y.” The Schulman’s, however, knew she would return to him.

  When Nicole tried to assert her will, O.J. would shatter photos of the Brown family hanging on their wall. Linda knew about these violent, selfish acts. When he showed up at the Schulmans, Linda was afraid not to let him in lest he get violent on their property. O.J. marched upstairs and said, “I’m sorry! Nic, I’m sorry! Marry me! Let’s get married! I want to marry you. We can get the ring right now! A diamond as big as you want!”

  The two came downstairs and Nicole told Linda, “I’ll be right back.” Two hours later they returned. Nicole had a beautiful diamond engagement ring on her hand. “It was as if the whole conversation we had with her the night before hadn’t even happened,” she recalled.

  “Look how it had to happen,” said Denise Brown, of the fact that it was an act of manipulation rather than pure love.

  Linda and Rick tried to put on a happy face, but oddly they seemed to see the future; not a double-murder, but heartache, for sure. This was that moment in time that could not be reversed, the tipping point leading to disaster that if man could get in a time machine and change the past, he would change such moments. Then again, O.J. Simpson, who had an almost Satanic power over her, hooked Nicole.

  Strangely, it was in some ways Nicole’s own traditional morality that now led her on the road she was on. Had she been willing to be one of O.J.’s bimbos, a hot blond happy to co-exist in sin without children, her hold on this man might not have been so tight, and vice versa. O.J. wanted a princess, the daughter of Lou Brown, who was not a bigot but was no race-neutral liberal (at least not then), and for good measure Juditha Brown, who had been raised in Nazi Germany. She was an object, something to acquire, to prove to the world he could have whatever he desired. A black man could have whatever he desired.

  USC’s legendary assistant coach Marv Goux, the man most responsible for getting O.J. into USC, would often exhort his troops: “Conquest is to go into another man’s house and steal what is theirs; his pride, his confidence. Take what is yours without asking.” Great, fighting words to fire up the gladiators of Spartacus, or a football team before charging onto Legion Field, or the green plains of the Rose Bowl turf, but not marital advice.

  Yet this appears to have been O.J. Simpson’s philosophy of life. While there is no evidence he ever studied the Italian diplomat Niccolo Machiavelli, he certainly lived his credo. He was honest and benevolent when he needed to be, when it was convenient, and when it served his purpose. This meant with his coaches and teammates; his business associates and corporate sponsors; his dear friends. This fostered the “good O.J.” image that made him a one-man marketing empire. He was the smiling black man. Nobody ever had any need or desire to cheat O.J. Simpson, the symbol of a hip city that got it right. His male friends only saw his smiling side.

  But a marriage was different. It was too personal, too day-to-day, too intimate to be maintained as he maintained relationships with golf pals. To make this work, he would need to be Machiavellian. He needed to judge his prey and know how best to handle . . . her. He knew she “needed” him not just out of genuine love, but just as much to legitimize the relationship and give her the self-worth that Denise’s modeling career had given her.

  In the back of Nicole’s mind, whether she verbalized it or even actually thought about it, she knew that marriage – and especially kids – would make her legal and, if a divorce ever occurred, she would have money and imprimatur. It is not logical to conceive that such thoughts never crossed her mind. O.J. hit her and beat her. Surely she knew she was entering a perilous relationship, but to leave in a divorce would be far more lucrative than to just leave, a 24-year old girl with no education or job.

  Of course, the prince O.J. Simpson insisted on a pre-nuptial agreement. It took seven to nine months to negotiate, and O.J. insisted it was to protect the financial interests of Arnelle and Jason. The fact that it took that long to “negotiate” indicates that Nicole was not naïve, that she saw this as a semi-business relationship. Almost all of O.J.’s assets were protected, but in the event of a divorce Nicole was given the San Francisco condominium. It already was valued at a substantial $450,000, and had been acquired after O.J. split from Marguerite, so in a sense it had come into the couple’s possession while they were together.

  In 1984, Denise married a fashion photographer. Nicole decorated the home the wedding was held in. This could possibly be a future career. At the wedding she asked Denise if she was “doing the right thing?” Nicole added hopefully that O.J. had joined a prayer group.

  During a trip to Hawaii with Eve Chen and her husband, they socialized with the former USC legend and New York Giants Hall of Famer Frank Gifford, one of O.J.’s broadcast partners with Monday Night Football. Eve, who was particularly in tune with her friend, noticed that Nicole seemed wistful in speaking of what a “nice man” Gifford was, as if this made him so different from her future mate. Later Eve expressed the opinion that a dress worn by Nicole was not as “sporty” as what she usually wore. Nicole seemed hurt.

  “The Nicole I knew would have said, ‘You don’t like it? Eh, so what.’ She had lost some of her natural confidence. I could feel tension in her now.”

  The evening was “so completely overwhelmed by O.J. talking, it was lucky we got to order food. He was so dominating. He was so pushy. He just talked and talked,” all the time “controlling” Nicole. Eve, who had great discernment, sensed that Nicole was almost “becoming” O.J., that her natural toughness was ceding to his great will.

  Trips like this, to the annual Pro Bowl held every year in Honolulu, were made to order when it came to suiting O.J.’s agenda. He was the legend, a year removed from entry into the Hall of Fame, in his element, “the Man” among men, football’s best and brightest.

  The tension Eve Chen sensed in Nicole during the Hawaii trip also manifested itself in a strange incident, in which she accused a housekeeper of stealing one of her earrings. She forced Ron Shipp to do an off-duty investigation, which could have jeopardized his career. When he asked her to stay in the background while he got to the bottom of the matter, she became forceful and loud. This was a picture of the way she could badger O.J., pushing things to the edge. She was no wallflower. She was just combustible enough to make a pent-up relationship explode . . . some day.

  There was still the coke, too. This certainly did not help. One night Denise joined O.J. and Nicole for a night of dancing. Back at Rockingham, the girls did some lines. Then O.J. started be-littling Nicole about her looks and her fingernails.

  “You take Nicole for granted, O.J.,” Denise told him, adding that she “deserves better,” and “she’s the best person you’ll ever have.”

  Then O.J. went off. As he always did when angry, he pulled the Brown family photos – meticulously re-framed and re-hung over and over again by Nicole – off the wall, smashing the glass. He pulled clothes out of Nicole’s closet and flung them downstairs, then stepped all over them, all the while screaming insanely, while both girls pleaded, “Stop it, O.J.! Stop it! Please!”

  He picked Nicole up bodily as if she was a rag doll and tossed her outside the front door, then did the same with Denise. He slammed the door, leaving them crying in the dark. Denise insisted she not go back to him. It made O.J.’s values and views obvious: he paid for Nicole’s clothes and “good life,” therefore he owned her. Normal human respect meant nothing to him, at least not when it came to women. Any Christian teachings he may have learned about “doing unto others as you would have them do unto you” were out the window.

  Outside of an occasional tussle with Al Cowlings, who was so loyal and so embedded in his life he could get away with it, there do not appear to be any men in his life who ever questioned his supremacy. He was a “king.”

  The next day, Nicole returned to “get my stuff out of the house, that’s all.”

  “He schmoozed her back in,” Denise recalled.

  O.J.’s control and manipulation spread, his tentacle
s making it harder and harder for Nicole to resist his will. He arranged for Lou Brown to take over the lucrative Hertz rental car agency in the swanky Ritz Carlton Hotel in posh Laguna Niguel. It was as if he were buying the Brown’s compliance.

  On May 19, 1984 Nicole celebrated her 25th birthday at the Ritz. In attendance was David LeBon, who always thought of himself as Nicole’s “big brother.” He had felt from the beginning that he should have intervened when after her first date with O.J., Nicole returned to the apartment they both rented with jeans that looked like they had been torn apart by a mad man. Nicole assured him the sex was consensual, but David never felt right about it.

  Now a successful photographer who worked with many models, he discovered that one of them was having an affair with O.J. She told David they “do it all night, then he goes home to Nicole, then he comes back the next day” and they “do it some more.”

  In the bathroom of the Ritz Carlton, LeBon confronted O.J. “So what?” he replied. “Look, you don’t know what it’s like to be O.J. Simpson. I have women all over me. They put their phone numbers in my pocket. What am I supposed to do? Say no?”

  “Yeah, you’re supposed to say no!” LeBon replied.

  It was classic O.J., the narcissist referring to himself by the third person.

  LeBon held his peace, however. Meanwhile all the guests were directed to the front of the hotel, where a white Ferrari with a big red bow was parked. It was the same ploy he used to get her back when she retuned home to Laguna after a fight in San Francisco.

  “Except now his panache and generosity were being revealed not merely to the Brown family but to all of Nicole’s friends,” wrote Sheila Weller.

  “Now he would have them all in his pocket.”

  Nicole did not want a big wedding, a major reversal from the hopes and dreams of most young women. To be married to a rich, famous, handsome Hall of Fame football hero would seem a dream come true, to be shared with the world, something to be proud of, bragged about, a point of honor that any girl would want all her friends to know about, even envy her for.

  Nicole?

  “She didn’t want them pitying or whispering about her,” Linda Schulman said.

  The tragedy of the entire unfolding relationship can be summed up in those words. In a decade the entire world would pity her. Somehow she saw it, like Julius Caesar’s wife seeing a vision of his murder, but Nicole could not accurately warn herself of these personal Ides of March.

  How truly serious O.J. was can only be speculated with great dubiousness, but he entered a Bible study program with Bob Kardashian’s brother Tom, and Marcus Allen, presided over by former UCLA football star Donn Moomaw, the Reverend at Bel Air Presbyterian Church. O.J. agreed to be baptized at the wedding, and promised not to cheat anymore, which was obviously a lie if David LeBon’s account of the bathroom confrontation at the Ritz Carlton is accurate.

  Kris Kardashian saw positive developments, however. She knew all of the men in O.J.’s inner circle were wayward; too much money, too much opportunity. But she saw progress in Tom Kardashian spiritual side as he progressed through Bible study, as with O.J. and Marcus. Allen’s fame was approaching O.J.’s. The handsome, charismatic “Young Juice” was the toast of Los Angeles, a Trojan god and a Raider superstar. He had to fight women off with a stick himself. Only God can truly ground people when they are touched by such heights of fame and worldly fortune.

  But the beat went on. During Thanksgiving of 1984 in Laguna, the Browns and O.J. went to dinner. O.J. and Nicole were arguing so vehemently that the entire Brown family crammed into one car, rather than be in the car with O.J. screaming. They followed behind when O.J. ground the car to a halt and pushed Nicole out, then drove off. Nicole silently got in the crammed car, which drove off. The next day “it was as if nothing happened,” recalled Lou’s daughter from his first marriage.

  Around this same period, Ron and Nina Shipp came by to congratulate Nicole on their upcoming wedding. Instead, O.J. told them Nicole “got pissed” and returned to Laguna. Ron, a former USC football player himself, as well as a cop who could sniff out trouble, sensed O.J. had hit her. Nicole later said O.J. had shoved her against a table.

  Nicole maintained a veil of secrecy, trying to hide her troubled life from friends and family, as the wedding date approached. She had her hair cut in a stylish, short style, and wore traditional white for the ceremony on February 2, 1985. O.J. was baptized before the wedding. Denise was the maid of honor. Jason and Al Cowlings were O.J.’s best men. Lou walked his daughter down the aisle to the strains of “Lohengrin.” Asked how he felt, Brown made clear he knew all was not a bed of roses. He said he was happy when his children were happy, and “commiserate with them when they’re unhappy,” but added that “it was their own doing that got them into unhappiness.” If this was what was going through Lou Brown’s mind on February 2, 1985, then he must have been in agony, knowing full well his daughter was getting into trouble.

  His Texas background and personal experiences had not made him the world’s greatest friend of the black man. He tried to accept O.J. as a son, but he knew he was no gentleman, that chivalry was not part of his code. He knew he was violent, but not how violent. Later Nicole would express in frustration more than racism that she should never have married “a n----r,” and that she “knew this would happen.” Lou had to be fighting against a sea of emotions, not the least of which was racial animus. But any racial animus he may have had was not based on ignorance or prejudice, which is to “pre-judge” something without knowing about it. This was the opposite. This was formulated from experience, tempered by common sense and analysis; the opposite of ignorance. He just hoped he did not know what he was afraid he knew. Judi insisted Lou was “proud,” but after the 1994 tragedy Lou simply could not “separate my feelings then about marrying him from what I feel about him now.”

  As if she could “educate” O.J. into good behavior, Judi’s toast at the wedding centered on the issue of “respect.” Cowlings and a prominent USC alum named Wayne Hughes spoke. That evening, Nicole confided to David LeBon’s wife, D’Anne, that she was pregnant. Many of their friends were having children during this period.

  But even the wedding had its share of tension. One of the guests was Lynn Swann, like O.J. and Marcus Allen a USC legend, an All-American who went on to a Hall of Fame career with four Pittsburgh Steelers Super Bowl champions. Swann was also extremely handsome; an elegant, articulate black man who attended a fancy private high school, and was decidedly not a product of the ghetto. He asked Nicole to dance at the wedding.

  “When Nicole danced with Swannie, O.J. stood looking in the window at them: staring,” one friend recalled.

  Others recalled that Nicole’s casual attraction to actor Tom Cruise, who neither apparently never actually met, also produced irrational jealousy from O.J.

  In a truly ironic bit of foreshadowing, Nicole’s baby shower was held at the home of their friends Robin and Mark Slotkin, at a large, modern residence on North Elm Drive. Four years later, Jose and Kitty Menendez would own the house. In that very home, their two adult sons, dressed as “ninjas,” burst in and slaughtered their parents.

  Stories of O.J.’s infidelities continued to spread. D’Anne LeBon heard one of them and was quite angry, this coming on top of what O.J. told her husband in the Ritz Carlton bathroom. She spared Nicole the rumor, knowing she heard plenty of others.

  As Nicole began to show, O.J. called her “fat,” and she was miserable. O.J. came from a world of “locker room jive” in which coaches and teammates would chide each other with put-downs, often to spur an athlete into a greater performance. It was one thing for Marv Goux to say these things to O.J. Simpson or Adrian Young; quite another for O.J. to use this tactic, if that is what it was, to “spur” his pregnant wife into getting in better shape.

  O.J. seemed to use Nicole’s appearance as an excuse to cheat more. His Bible lessons with Reverend Moomaw were more like seeds scattered by the wayside.
One day a pregnant Nicole sat terrified in her car while O.J. bashed in the front windshield with a baseball bat. The police were called. One of the patrolmen was Mark Fuhrman. O.J. defiantly told them, “This is my car! I can do anything I want with it!” They left without doing anything, a pattern that would last for years.

  It was also further evidence of O.J.’s psychology, probably honed from his youth as a poor black child in the projects. He had indeed earned all he had, although in truth, after football much was given him without his really working terribly hard. But his feeling of “ownership” extended, it would appear, well beyond cars, homes, clothes, furniture. It extended to people. It certainly extended to the women in his life, and it undoubtedly extended to Nicole. He also may have felt like he “owned” the town of L.A. This term, to “own,” is a common sports expression. A team that dominates another (“USC owned the Bruins”) or a baseball hitter who bats well against a pitcher (“Koufax owned Mays”) are examples. O.J., just like Marcus Allen in the 1980s, “owned” Los Angeles. The L.A.P.D. may well have been, in his view, an extension of a city he practically shaped in the manner of the Chandler family and their L.A. Times.

  As for Fuhrman, conspiracy theorists could look at this instance and speculate that here was a racist cop, frustrated by life and his position, seeing this spoiled, arrogant, violent Negro abusing his blond trophy wife. A plot to get back at this uppity black may have been hatched in his mind then and there.

  But Nicole was pregnant by now, her independence gone. She gave birth to Sydney Brook Simpson at St. John’s Hospital in Santa Monica on October 17, 1985. O.J. called her their “first little Zebra,” a reference to a bi-racial child.

  “The baby was just heaven,” recalled Judi.

  But O.J. went through the first career downturns of his life. He had formed a production company called Oriental Productions, but it was failing. He had not established himself as an actor of substance, able to get beyond roles that simply called for him to be black, look strong, and run fast (Roots). An “African-American soap opera,” Heart and Soul, went the way of the pilot described by Samuel L. Jackson in Pulp Fiction (“It became nothin’ ”).

  The producers of Monday Night Football were frustrated with his syntax and were receiving complaints from viewers who said they could not understand O.J. He was about to get the axe from that lucrative gig. He moved over to the fledgling ESPN, which in 1985 was a mere shell of what it later became. He began to think of a political career. Tom McCollum said O.J. was not “capable” or willing to pay the dues necessary to forge this kind of success (educating ones’ self, policy papers, editorial stances). He tried to “educate” O.J. on the essentials of capitalism when he expressed a desire to become a Hertz executive, but his efforts at understanding the rules of the Securities and Exchange Commission went for naught.

  USC was a marvelous university with one of the best business schools in the nation. They had been educating the leading politicians, lawyers and executives in Los Angeles for decades, but an athlete could skate through without benefiting from its high-priced education.

  “I’m too lazy,” O.J. said sadly. “I am what I am.”

  When O.J. became a father again, it somewhat strained his relationship with Jason, his son from marriage to Marguerite. Jason was a likable, yet troubled kid. He played football at USC, but was no more than a scrub, a comedown for the son of such a Trojan icon. After Sydney’s birth, Jason – like his father – took a baseball bat to a shiny, life-sized statue of O.J. and bashed it to bits while screaming, “I hate my father!” over and over again. When O.J. heard he used cocaine, he was indignant, completely forgetting his own use. Jason also stole the family Ferrari, later was arrested for a DUI, and assaulted an employer. Ron Shipp, who at the time was in charge of a special domestic violence unit of the L.A.P.D., helped calm things down, but he was seeing a dynamic of the Simpson family that was most troubling indeed.

  Nicole got back into top shape, taking to the fitness craze sweeping the nation at the time. She and Kris Kardashian worked out very hard. They began to hang out together, and one day the two of them met a beautiful brunette named Faye Resnick.

  While O.J. was a nightmare, he also provided for Nicole and was often a hopeless romantic, part of his split personality. He also began playing more golf than before. Many felt that his new obsession with the sport helped the marriage somewhat, since it gave him something to do other than philandering. O.J. began eating healthier, in line with Nicole’s post-partum fitness regimen. His friends said O.J. was not a “gentleman” on the golf course. He played for money and specialized in one-upmanship, cheating, taunting opponents with Marv Goux-like gamesmanship. If he won, he demanded payment, but he went through outlandish lengths to avoid paying if he lost. His course was the Riviera Country Club in nearby Pacific Palisades, one of the most famous and gorgeous courses in the world, also a PGA tour destination.

  On another occasion, O.J. was stopped by the California Highway Patrol for driving 120 miles an hour on the San Diego Freeway. He tried to charm the patrolman by offering his keys to the Ferrari Testarosa for a spin. Another time O.J. called Tom McCollum, and told him he was jailed in Orange County for driving 140 miles per hour; he needed to be bailed out to the tune of $1,500. McCollum dutifully made the trek to the O.C., only to get a cell call from O.J.: “April Fools, you dumb bitch. We’re on the first tee.”

  Whenever O.J. and Nicole got in public fights, O.J.’s way of smoothing things over would be to reach over, grab her butt, and tell his friends, “My woman’s got the greatest booty.” But Nicole discovered O.J. was seeing the sex kitten Tawny Kitaen, star of super-sensual rock videos and America’s Funniest People. She learned that O.J. bought her an expensive pair of diamond stud earrings.

  (A few years later Kitaen married Angels star pitcher Chuck Finley and, after an argument, attacked him.)

  AIDS was a huge worry by the mid-1980s, and the Left was doing all they could to proffer the notion that it was as much a heterosexual disease as it was a homosexual one, which it was not. But Nicole began worrying that O.J. might give her the dreaded virus. O.J. was known not to wear condoms with his sex partners. Nicole was so anxious she would talk to anybody who would listen about her plight.

  She was also a “fighter,” as one friend described her. She was in shape, physically fit, perhaps even spurred on by newfound strength from her training regimen. She began slapping O.J., and apparently even kicked him in the genitals on several occasions.

  Once at a fancy Rodeo Drive eatery, O.J. joined Jennifer Young and Victoria Sellars for a meal. Jennifer was the daughter of Gig Young (who once lived in his Rockingham estate), Sellars the daughter of Peter Sellars and Swedish beauty Britt Ecklund. Afterward O.J. walked them towards their car when Nicole, possibly spying on him, pulled up in her black Mercedes and screamed, “You motherf----r, if you’re going to f---king cheat on me why don’t you pick someone pretty?!”

  The girls went into a store to hide. Nicole kept circling the neighborhood, screaming and making a scene until the cops arrived. O.J., in full public view, remained very calm and tried to “reason” with her, saying it was just an innocent lunch.

  Years later, Jennifer Young stated, “O.J. could never have committed those murders,” noting how “lovely and calm he is.” This was vintage O.J.; the Machiavellian par excellence, on stage and using his charm to his advantage.

  Somehow, some way, the beat went on, and in 1987 Nicole became pregnant again. In what was by then a typical, decade-old pattern, after a night of drinking with A.C., O.J. told Nicole he wanted her to abort the child and get out of his house. When Nicole tried to reason with him, he told him, “I have a gun in my hand right now.” She and Sydney left.

  O.J., as usual, patched things up and on August 6, 1988, Justin Ryan Simpson was born. Nicole insisted on two things: a Caesarian, and that O.J. not be in the delivery room. That was also the year the Mezzaluna restaurant opened for business at the corner of San
Vicente and Gorham in Brentwood.

  In late December of 1988, O.J. brought Nicole, the kids, and some friends on a golf vacation to Hawaii. In his mind it was a “concession,” telling buddies that when he was on the course, “At least she knows I’m not screwing around.” She was already making note of the fact that O.J. did not particularly appear to enjoy being with his young children, and from Jason’s tantrums and complaints, this was not a new parental development.

  At a fancy restaurant on the island, Nicole had a sympathetic conversation with two men that Tom McCollum said were both homosexual, with lesions on their hands, and at least one of them had AIDS. Denise disputed that. What did happen was that one of them touched little Justin, and according to her kissed him on the forehead. O.J., whose own gay father had died of AIDS three years earlier, became livid. He got up, declaring, “I don’t want any infected faggot touching my kid!” He grabbed Justin and headed out. Then O.J., on his own, personally changed the reservations of all the people on the trip, which included Tom McCollum, his girlfriend, Denise and the Browns.

  From there, everybody seemingly got drunk and stayed drunk on the plane and in L.A., which included Nicole and O.J. attending a New Year’s eve party, pictures of which made the trades. They returned drunkenly to Rockingham. There are several versions of what happened next. O.J. wanted sex, but Nicole – the AIDS episode in Hawaii fresh in her mind – refused, telling him she was afraid he might be as “infected” as the “faggot” in Hawaii. Then she accused him of buying more jewelry for Tawny Kitaen.

  O.J. later told a friend they started having sex, but Nicole refused to perform orally on him. His friend was stunned to discover that her refusal was, according to O.J.’s logic, a legitimate excuse for committing violence against her.

  O.J. punched her on the forehead and slapped her several times. But when the cops arrived, O.J. told an Officer Farrell it was a “mutual wrestling-type altercation.” The officer, however, could not understand why a “wrestling-type altercation” resulted in her deep bruises. After the 1994 tragedy, O.J. told Detective Philip Vannatter that Nicole hit him. Nicole was a “most conditioned” woman, O.J. added, as if the former All-Pro could have been out-wrestled by a girl. A housekeeper who many felt was a liar backed up some of O.J.’s story, claiming Nicole was “tearing up my house.”

  The more believable story included Nicole running out of the bedroom in fright, and hiding from him. Drunkenly, O.J. marched into the bedroom of their blond nanny, Ruth, and thinking in the darkness it was Nicole, manhandled her until Ruth screamed she was not Nicole.

  In the meanwhile, Nicole dialed 9-1-1. A female Officer Milewski and an Officer Edwards arrived, but the gate was locked. A phone call was answered by the housekeeper, who told them all was well and they could leave.

  At about that very time, Nicole came flying out of the house in a bra and sweat pants, with mud down the right leg of her pants. She ran across the driveway to release the gate, as if desperate to let the cop in before they heeded the housekeeper’s admonition that there was nothing to see there.

  “He’s going to kill me,” she screamed. “He’s going to kill me.” The officer asked who “he” was and she replied, “O.J.” The officer was unaware he was at O.J. Simpson’s home, but immediately deduced this was probably his residence. He asked her and she confirmed it.

  The female officer took a report, noting Nicole told her O.J. slapped her with open and closed fists, kicked her, and pulled her hair, all while yelling, “I’ll kill you.” Nicole told Officer Edwards O.J. had “lots of guns.” He could tell she sustained obvious injuries.

  “You never do anything about him,” she complained to the police. “You talk to him and then leave. I want him arrested, I want him out so I can get my kids.” She told the officers the police had been out eight prior times for similar reasons. O.J. came out, closed the gate, and remained within his property behind a brick wall. He stated that he did not want Nicole around, and denied beating her. He made a reference to having “two women.”

  Recent changes in California law mandated that if the cops saw bruising, as with Nicole, they were mandated to make an arrest of the man accused of causing them, even if the injured woman insisted he not be arrested. When the officer informed O.J. he had to make an arrest, he yelled it was a “family matter.” The officer told him to put some clothes on, that his supervisor would be there shortly and he would have to go to the station.

  O.J.’s attitude with the police was typical of his controlling behavior. This was one time he had to cede it. The charmer, the smiling and loyal friend that so many men saw, was exposed. Few if any of his male friends ever confronted him as these police officers now confronted him, in large measure because they were now operating under laws that had not been in place during past episodes. His sense of entitlement, his arrogance, was appalling.

  While O.J. was dressing, the housekeeper Michelle, most likely at O.J.’s urging, came out and put on an act. She walked to the squad car, pulled on Nicole’s arm, and told her, “Nicole, don’t do this.” It was a carefully stage crafted performance by a woman, meant to discredit Nicole’s story, although it did not explain her injuries, or the fact that by this point, because of the domestic violence laws the cops were operating under, if Nicole had stood and declared it all a hoax, the police still would have been legally obligated to arrest O.J. But, it was in the record now, a mitigating factor likely orchestrated by a Machiavellian man who wanted to weaken the case, so that if it got to the district attorney he would be more likely not to press charges.

  O.J. appeared, dressed, and complained that of all the other officers who had been out – a damning fact in and of itself – Officer Edwards was the only one to make a “big deal” out it it.

  The new law was explained to him. Then an event foreshadowing the eerie “slow speed chase” of 1994 occurred. O.J. got in his Bentley and drove away using a side gate. He was undoubtedly still intoxicated, an act of stupidity that could have landed him in even worse trouble. Several units fanned out in search of the Bentley. Nicole wanted to go in the house to take care of her children, and refused medical treatment. She was probably trying to protect her husband’s image, which was still worth money to her as a wife or ex-wife.

  She returned to Rockingham. The cops left. The bizarre night was not over. O.J. returned 15 minutes later. Nicole called the cops and let them know. Oddly, Edwards waited outside for 45 minutes, expecting O.J. to come out and be arrested. The station called the house, but Nicole said he had departed again. He likely went to the home of Allen and Pam Schwartz, where he slept it off, able to evade a DUI charge, the alcohol eventually passing out of his system. He also contacted his friend Joe Kolkowitz, who was one of his greatest defenders even after the 1994 tragedy. O.J. expressed great remorse.

  Nicole called Cowlings. He drove Nicole to St. John’s to treat her wounds. O.J. showed up there. Cowlings confronted him.

  “You sick motherf—ker, if you ever lay a hand on her again I’ll kill you,” he told his oldest friend.

  Despite all of this drama and criminality, incredibly, O.J. Simpson went to watch USC lose to Michigan in the Rose Bowl that afternoon. A rare Trojans loss in the “granddaddy of ‘em all,” which they traditionally dominated, was typical of the dark cloud O.J. seemed to bring with him to the Arroyo Seco. He wore a disguise. At the game, O.J. was able to make contact with his fellow Trojan Ron Shipp, who was there with Raiders executive Mike Ornstein. He arranged to have Shipp meet him later. He needed a strategy to deal with his situation. He had fled arrest and was technically a fugitive from the law.

  “”26 years ago to this day, O.J. had listened to this event on radio and his determination to have a brilliant career had sprung from that moment,” wrote Sheila Weller in Raging Heart. “The white Trojan horse and the bugles had inspired him. Today, he was a wife-beater hiding from the police in the stands of the very stadium in which he had shone, in which the whole football-watching world had roared its p
raises.”

  If O.J. Simpson had been a literate man, he might well have contemplated Hamlet during those hours. “To be, or not to be, that is the question: Whether ‘Tis Nobler in the mind to suffer the Slings and Arrows of outrageous Fortune, or to take Arms against a Sea of troubles, And by opposing end them: to die, to sleep.”

  Instead, he just watched the Trojans, who had been in position to win the national title before losing the last regular season game to Notre Dame, implode and blow a halftime lead.

  (The next season, Trojans freshman Todd Marinovich, a young hotshot whose own personal demons would be every bit as much a Shakespearean tragedy as O.J.’s, guided Troy past the Wolverines, 17-10.)

  Shipp, confronted by the allegations, was shaken by the notion that the rumors of his hero were actually true. The entire L.A.P.D. knew all about O.J. Simpson by now, even if the world did not. In an odd twist of fate, the fact that all these law enforcement professionals knew he was a criminal was somehow fodder for the rumor that would in a little over six years be used to set him free after his worst crime!

  Shipp found O.J. hiding out at Ornstein’s that evening. He told him it was an “isolated incident,” but Shipp either knew or surely suspected it was not. He told him Nicole would not let him come back to Rockingham. Meanwhile, Nicole had Denise come by to take photos of her injuries, which she put in a safety deposit box. She already suspected the contents of this box would be her forlorn voice calling out from the grave.

  Shipp found the health nut Nicole smoking a cigarette. When Shipp used O.J.’s term “isolated incident,” Nicole exploded. She then found an envelope filled with photos of injuries O.J. caused her, threatening to take them to the National Enquirer. Nicole revealed a very interesting, little-discussed theory of O.J.’s woman-beating behavior, saying she felt it was because his father was gay. She revealed O.J. had pulled a gun on her once. “Ron, I’m so scared,” she told him. “One day O.J.’s going to kill me.”

  Shipp did not dispute O.J.’s violent nature, but like so many others said the man had too much to lose to ever commit such a drastic act. But his work in the domestic violence unit of the police department taught him that this sort of logic goes out the window, that O.J. and Nicole were a unique, combustible combination of people who drove each other to distraction in extreme ways; to love and to hate.

  Nicole wanted to be educated on domestic violence, lest she become an object lesson. Shipp promised he would bring his materials over and try to counsel both she and O.J. He cautioned that her husband needed counseling and should not be allowed back in the house until he got some.

  Before leaving, Nicole asked Shipp “the way of dying you’re most afraid of?” He said drowning. She told Shipp, “Mine’s stabbing. To be killed with a knife – to me, that would be the most awful.” Many fans of Alfred Hitchcock’s Psycho would agree.

  Strangely, Shipp was an enabler of a sort. O.J. had fled the scene of a crime and made himself a fugitive. He probably drove drunk. By law he was supposed to have been booked. But the department allowed Shipp to “handle” the delicate situation. Nicole did not want to embarrass her kids, and probably – despite the National Enquirer threat – her husband. She chose not to sign the complaint, informing the investigating officer she did not want to see O.J. prosecuted, but did want the case sent to the city attorney. This seems to be her way of leaving a clue for the future.

  O.J. knew that Nicole did not ultimately decide whether to prosecute. In order to soften that chance, he called Officer Farrell and expressed remorse over the fact the police had to be called; that he knew what he did was wrong; and promised to enter counseling. Then he put on a full court press of apology to his wife.

  Shipp suggested that the answer to their troubles was the Lord Jesus Christ. O.J. was no atheist, but despite growing up in the black community, which had always found its greatest rock in the Lord, it had never taken. He was too full of pride and vainglory. Nicole was enthusiastic, but Shipp could tell O.J.’s enthusiasm was lip service. Shipp became concerned especially over the fact that “service agencies” did not ultimately back Nicole. She felt abandoned and alone, as if no one was in her corner.

  A check list of “batterer” resulted in Nicole saying, “That’s him!” over and over. There are those who felt O.J. actually did not believe he killed Nicole, that within him was a unique mechanism – think of Norman Bates in Psycho – of denial that allowed him to go into a separate reality of his own making. The possibility of this manifests itself in the answers he gave to the questions in Shipp’s domestic violence manual. For each action, all absolutely and quintessentially describing precisely what O.J. did over and over, he still answered, “That’s not me!” The only one he owned, just a little, was jealousy.

  Privately, O.J. worried about his Hertz endorsements, and managed to blame Nicole for putting him in this predicament. Women’s groups and the Los Angeles Times had the story and wanted her to go public. He began to use Shipp as his PR man and conduit between himself and Nicole. O.J.’s state of denial manifested again when he told his friend he never would hurt his wife. He had to remind O.J. he already had, but it just did not take. He insisted Marguerite had battered him. Shipp suggested O.J. be pro-active and go public, asking the public’s forgiveness before they found out about it, and seeking help. It was an era of public confessions. O.J. liked the idea, but undoubtedly his business advisors, fearing rescinded Hertz, broadcasting and movie deals, told him not to. Very possibly – Shipp was haunted by this possibility forever after June 1994 – this failure to accept good advice cost Nicole Simpson her life.

  O.J. stayed in the guesthouse, probably fuming that the home he owned was unavailable; no doubt building up a reservoir of resentment that, unleashed in just the right way, would be more volatile than ever. Pressured by women’s groups, the government had to charge him with something, but it amounted to a slap on the wrist in the form of a few hundred bucks’ fine and some community service, which amounted to O.J. hanging out with some kids with cancer, all of whom worshipped him like a god. His attorney, Howard Weitzman, even blocked an attempt to get O.J. some extra counseling. Nicole sought some private counseling, but later expressed in dismay that even there O.J. was “worshipped.” This was the classic isolation of battered woman’s syndrome that Shipp’s manual outlined. To Shipp, one of the few people who really saw it coming, this was a tragic, slow speed train wreck, a nightmare, a dream sequence he could not stop from happening. Nicole was something straight out of Greek tragedy.

  At some point, O.J. realized he had won. He got away with it. He still had his endorsements, his broadcasting, his reputation. After the 1994 tragedy, very few people knew of these incidents, which received scant press attention. Now, re-grouped, stronger than ever, he could concentrate his efforts on controlling Nicole. This came in the form of smothering love and revenge for having put him through this ”ordeal.” By May he was back in her bed.

  AIDS was still an issue with Nicole, especially when she learned of another affair, this time with a black celebrity. O.J. lied and said he passed a test. But now O.J. began to worry that his wife, who had just about had it with him by then – who was still gorgeous and was no longer a little girl – might cheat on him. He had always been jealous and accusatory, but never really thought it would happen. There is nothing in the record saying it had. He and Tom McCollum discussed the possibility.

  “I just couldn’t take it,” he cried.

  “Look, Juice,” he told O.J. “You two don’t belong together.” He warned O.J. that if he and Nicole broke up, seemingly inevitable at this point, she would undoubtedly be with another man. It would be impossible to expect her to lead a celibate life, especially since she had been with O.J. since she was still a kid and remained faithful in all the years since. Intellectually, O.J. seemed to acknowledge this, but emotionally he could not. He would call all his friends, like a patient looking for the medical opinion he desperately wanted to hear.

 
On her 30th birthday, O.J. was back. Kris Kardashian said “he’d have to make good to get back in, and then he’d be so relieved.” O.J. brought Nicole, the Kardashians and his friend Alan Austin, along with his girlfriend Donna Estes, to Acapulco. Shortly after, however, Kris had an affair and appeared ready to break up with Robert Kardashian. O.J. spoke to Kris like a “Dutch uncle,” trying to keep the marriage together. He also was incredibly generous with all his friends. It was his style, not necessarily a bulwark of goodwill against any bad things he did, or might in the future do, but it had that effect. O.J. continued to be loyal to all his friends, not just the successful ones. People who fell on hard times or ran afoul of the law still engendered his friendship.

  While O.J. had a few black friends, like Ron Shipp, he had little involvement in the so-called “black community.” Most of his black friends were ex-teammates from USC or the NFL, generally successful, middle class people. His close circle was mostly white, successful entrepreneurs living in L.A.’s affluent westside. He gave to charity and lent his name to causes, but was not spending any considerable time, if any, in his old neighborhood of Potrero Hill, or the ghettos of Los Angeles: Watts, south-central, the Crenshaw district. Nobody could remember his daughter playing with any black dolls.

  When people spoke of O.J. Simpson, the phrase “whiter than most white people” often was used. He still used some “black syntax” in his speech; still used some street lingo; but his lifestyle of golf, jet set travel, parties, and corporate success was very “white.”

  But problems persisted in the marriage. Justin sustained a backyard injury in the same place where O.J.’s daughter Aaren had died when she was a similar age. Nicole was running errands, and O.J. screamed at her, even though Justin turned out to be fine. But life went on. Sydney was enrolled in an elite school. The Simpsons decided to give their kids a Catholic education. Marcus Allen, by then a sure Hall of Famer, lived nearby.

  In the fall of 1989, the Simpsons lived in a swank Fifth Avenue condominium in Manhattan, because it was the base of O.J.’s football broadcasting work. During this time, Nicole and Kris commiserated with each other. Neither was happy with their marriage. Nicole told Kris that while she often would call O.J.’s hotel room at two in the morning, and not find him until the next day, “He has to know where I am, every minute of the day.” But Nicole hated the idea of divorce as long as their children were still young. She seemed resigned to a kind of “bunker mentality,” waiting out the years with a man she both loved and despised. Nicole did not discuss the physical beatings with Kris; the focus of her complaint was her husband’s infidelity, but Kris began to sense that after all these years, she no longer even cared about it anymore. It was something to be endured. Then Kris just plain told Nicole she should leave O.J. Simpson.

  One day in 1990, Sydney asked her mother, “Mommy, am I black?” She was told she was “white and black.” Some friends speculated that Nicole wanted to steer her children to a white identity. Told her daughter would someday be a “black woman,” Nicole resisted the notion. O.J. thought himself and his family to be “above color”; he was a product of a time and place – L.A. in the 1960s, 1970s, 1980s, and now early 1990s – that patted itself on the back and said, “We got it right.” The rest of the nation might be divided by race, but not Los Angeles, California. O.J.’s USC pedigree played a large role in this; he was the biggest hero of one of the most conservative universities in the world (although, because it drew so many students from foreign countries, USC also had one of the largest percentages of non-white students). O.J., L.A., USC; these were symbols of a new way of thinking, and so was his family. Nicole told herself their wealth and privilege insulated them from racial identity. Also in 1990, Nicole was with Faye Resnick, speaking to Kris by phone.

  “I wish I could just walk away,” she told her. “But I could never leave. O.J. would kill me.” Shortly thereafter, Kris fell in love with the 1976 Olympic decathlon champion Bruce Jenner. Nicole watched with envy.

  In 1991, however, Nicole seemed resolved to make a move. She had a crush on her hairdresser, a major source of romance for many women on the westside. Whether she had an affair with him or just a flirtation is not known. Nicole was conflicted. She wanted to be more spiritual, but of course divorce is an abomination in Christianity. One day she told Ron Shipp she was “leaving him!” only to put her hand over her mouth. It had just slipped out.

  If Nicole was sleeping with her hairdresser, O.J. did not believe it. He told friends she was going through a “phase,” but if she “crosses the line,” he would not take her back. “Cross the line” meant sexual intercourse, but did “not take her back” mean killing her? Nicole began seeking out her single friends more than her married ones. “I’m breaking up with O.J.,” she told them. Within their tight circle of friends, the divorced men stayed in the group. The divorced women were ostracized. Nicole knew that this was a major part of her life; her income, her social standing, her happiness. But she wanted to lead “a normal life with normal men.” O.J. continued to lavish the Browns with gifts, lobbying them to be on his side, mostly with success.

  Finally, her friend Robin Greer, who was in real estate, helped her find a rental south of sunset Boulevard. She was still only a few minutes from Rockingham, but it was a major dividing line in Brentwood society.

 

  What God hath joined together, let not man put asunder

  When Nicole moved to her new place on North Gretna Green Way, O.J. insisted that she not break up the sets of wedding china because “we’ll be back together,” which he “guaranteed.” He added that they would be “re-married” on February 2, 1994, their wedding anniversary, in Aspen.

  Nicole hired a nanny for her kids. When she was away, O.J. would call the residence and speak with her. He was trying to lobby her to his point of view, as he did with everybody else. He was always working, plotting, strategizing. When Nicole would answer – O.J. would call as many as 20 times a night – she would yell at him, demanding that he leave her alone.

  O.J. would call Judi, pleading his case. “I sensed his obsession, but I never took it as danger,” she recalled. “I thought it was love.”

  O.J., who had not taken to Reverend Moomaw’s Bible teachings, used religion to try and get his family back together. They mutually agreed to bring the children to church, sometimes at Reverend Moomaw’s Bel Air Presbyterian, other times at St. Martin of Tours Catholic Church. Some times Nicole would spend the night with O.J., presumably to have sex. But she was finally seeing other men. She began to go to parties, often with Robin Greer and Faye Resnick. Faye was an exquisite beauty and in great demand among the eligible bachelors of the westside. She introduced Nicole to this new world, which was like letting her out of a cage she had been locked in since the age of 18. Faye was officially married herself, but that did not stop her from having a grand old time.

  Nicole’s first “official” boyfriend was a young guy of around 18 or 19 who seemed to have more in common with her kids than with her. Nicole would get massages and tell the masseuse to help relieve the pain from places on her body where O.J. “beat me a lot.” She confided to one person “I got out in time.”

  Kris and her other friends still sensed some kind of looming danger just beneath the surface. Then Nicole started seeing a sophisticated Neiman-Marcus buyer who was very handsome. At first O.J. expressed the desire, “I hope that she’s happy.” His friends said he was resigned to the situation at first. But then O.J. began “showing up” wherever Nicole was. In a town as busy and fast-paced as Los Angeles, even in a tight-knit community like Brentwood, people rarely just “run into” each other unless they hang out at the same bar, restaurant, or gym. But O.J. would see them at the park, on the street, always eliciting a big, “There’s Daddy” from his kids, which he played up for all he was worth. Unquestionably, he was stalking Nicole. Nicole heard noises in the bushes outside her place. She told Ron Shipp she “saw a face” in the shadows, probably O.J. or, she sur
mised, Jason. She bought big locks and obtained a can of Mace. She worried that O.J. might have a private detective following her, or even bugging her phone.

  She told Marcus Allen, who she had a “crush” on, to “Stop by sometime.”

  “This is a difficult situation for me; I don’t know what side to take,” he told her.

  “Don’t worry about it, Marcus,” she replied. “I understand.”

  But afterward she told herself, “I don’t need Marcus Allen.”

  Nicole took to seeing a therapist in 1992 after reading Dr. Susan Forward’s book Men Who Hate Women and the Women Who Love Them, and later Obsessive Love by the same author.

  “This is the story of my life,” she called it.

  Dr. Froward felt she was “terrified” and “exhausted.” Nicole described the beatings, the poundings, the kickings, the punchings and the stalkings. The doctor’s advice was to cut off all contact with such a man, much easier said than done; the shared parental responsibilities meant such a thing was almost impossible. With a man as wealthy and influential as O.J. this was as likely as suggesting she become the Attorney General. Nicole told Dr. Forward her plan was to “placate” O.J., but the doctor realized such an act was no more likely to result in the desired result than Neville Chamberlain’s attempt to appease Adolf Hitler, or the recommendations of arms control inspectors to basically do the same with Saddam Hussein.

  “The police won’t help me,” Nicole told the doctor. She felt very alone.

  Nicole felt great guilt when she looked into her children’s eyes and saw their pain. Sydney began acting out. O.J. got many of their mutual friends to urge reconciliation. O.J. had “charmed her family,” wrote Sheila Weller.

  Dr. Forward was very alarmed at O.J.’s charming side, which she understood well. It made Nicole’s situation twice as bad. It would have been easier if he was just a monster, instead of Prince Charming four days of the week, a pig three days of the week. Just as dangerous was Nicole’s feisty side, her rebelliousness.

  Over time, his charm offensive failing, O.J.’s pig side came out more and more in the form of threats to take the kids, cut off her money supply . . . or worse. O.J.’s tantrums and screaming sessions returned. He could not be “placated,” the doctor warned Nicole. Dr. Forward was frustrated, telling her patient she could not help her if she did not heed her advice, no matter how difficult it was. Nicole seemed to have a slight case of “Stockholm Syndrome,” in which a prisoner is happy only when her jailer is nice to her, and therefore the prisoner bonds with the jailer hoping for that kind of treatment. In a sense, Nicole sought a form of detente, which President Reagan once said was the relationship a turkey has “with his farmer until Thanksgiving Day.” The truth – as so many things the Gipper said – hit agonizingly close to home.

  Otherwise, Dr. Forward told her, “I don’t know how I can help you,” adding “I really fear for your life.” Nicole, crying, agreed, but she was trapped. In retrospect, the only way she might have really escaped would have been to let O.J. have her children, cut herself off from them, and either disappear with a new identity or leave the country.

  But Nicole was determined to divorce the man. She believed this would give her, and her children, certain court-ordered rights and protections.

  “What is she trying to prove?” O.J. told confidantes.

  Nicole began dressing very provocatively, an act that may have been meant to antagonize O.J. as much as it was to make her feel free and available. She was a smoking hot blond at the height of her sexuality. Being O.J.’s ex, from the standpoint of prospective beaus in line to get some of his money – in theory – this made her one of the most eligible chicks in Brentwood. She was the original “desperate housewife.” If the Desperate Housewives franchise had been a cable hit in those days, it is not inconceivable that she, Faye Resnick, Kris Kardashian (is there a doubt?), and even O.J. himself (after Naked Gun he needed the work), might have participated, with all their schemings and splendors. Incredibly, such a public airing of all their dirty laundry might have saved her life, or it might have made for a murder practically carried out on reality television.

  But this brazen side of Nicole’s behavior, wearing short skirts, her large, tanned breasts practically exploding out of halter top and bikinis, with strappy, high heels; this was pushing her crazed soon-to-be-ex-husband over the edge. This was what scared Dr. Forward the most.

  Nicole began spending the night in the beds of men, leaving the nanny to take care of the children. O.J. would call and find out, only to fume. Part of O.J.’s need for controlled stemmed from his childhood, in which his mother often had to work nights while he fended for himself, waiting out the long hours of darkness. Now he imagined his kids doing the same while their mother was not working a job as Eunice Simpson once had, but instead was involved in what O.J.’s imagination had to be near-pornographic acts.

  It was a reversal of fortune. On top of that, while Nicole was in her prime O.J. Simpson was slowly but surely getting old. That did not stop him from dating a Victoria’s Secret model, but in an odd twist, Nicole’s easy acceptance of it may have bothered O.J. even more. His wife cared so little about him that it did not matter if he was sleeping with other women. Nicole’s jealousy had always been some strange source of romantic strength for O.J., but no more. It made him feel abandoned and more jealous of her than ever.

  Nicole began dating Keith Zlomsowitch, the manager of Mezzaluna. One night at the restaurant, O.J. approached their table, where they dined with friends, and intimidated him. Nicole took him outside, where O.J. made a scene, waving his hands. To the young men of Brentwood, this was a warning, that to sleep with Nicole Simpson was to incur O.J.‘s wrath. But he was still O.J. Simpson, American hero. Nobody outside of Nicole’s inner circle really felt this guy would risk it all in a true act of violence. Besides, to those in the know at least, O.J. battered women, not men. He was a coward, the powerhouse tailback who exploded into the mayhem of a defensive front, yet nobody knew of any fight he ever had with men. Men were “honorable,” to be lent a hand and told “nice play” before heading back to the huddle. Women were the fantasy sluts made available to them for post-game pleasures. Thus was O.J.’s world. It was the world of men like Marcus Allen, too, but for whatever reason he like most other men were either raised better, or innately sensed when to draw the line, that to be a real man was to be a gentle man. As Nicole had surmised, perhaps O.J. acted out to prove he was not his gay father. His wiring; something was out of whack.

  At a West Hollywood restaurant called Tryst – which O.J. probably stalked Nicole to – he sat down at an adjoining table and just stared Nicole’s party down as if he were a linebacker trying to get in the head of an opposing quarterback. A week later he followed Keith and Nicole to the Comedy Store, watched them, then followed them to Roxbury. When they discovered his presence they made a hasty retreat back to Nicole’s, where they were intimate. Keith returned to his home without spending the night, but came back the next day. He was giving Nicole a neck massage when O.J. burst into the residence, berating them about “what you guys are doing.”

  He also claimed to have “watched you last night.” O.J. spoke to Nicole privately, then extended a handshake to Keith, telling him he was a “proud man.” This actually is not as unusual as it sounds. It is in line with O.J.’s nature, which was to respect men, not women. After he left, Keith saw the curtains had been opened. Later, Keith was at the Laguna home when the sisters and the children went out to the beach. When the phone rang and nobody picked it up, he did. It was O.J., livid. It was too much for Keith. He split up with Nicole. It was a “victory” for O.J., who may have felt he had derived a winning strategy: intimidate Nicole’s boyfriends until they hit the highway.

  The divorce was cause for further headache. O.J. insisted on the letter of the pre-nuptial agreement, leaving Nicole nothing more than the San Francisco property. She would have to sell it to make money, but where would she live? She wo
uld also have to pay taxes on the capital gains. The great O.J. also made it clear he only wanted his son Justin, not his daughter Sydney. Again, this was his personality. Men (boys) were of value, women (girls) were not. Worse, Sydney knew her father felt this way about her.

  After Magic Johnson revealed that he had HIV, Nicole was incredibly relieved that she was not with O.J. any more. Denise told her he had heard O.J. say he would kill Nicole if she as with another man.

  By 1993, O.J. was seeing the exotic model Paula Barbieri. He was 45. Hi friends felt that O.J. was sinking into a morass. His movie career seemed to have hit the skids. His relationship with a beautiful young woman now seemed slightly desperate. He was not the stud of past days. After Keith Nicole began dating a young UCLA graduate named Brett Shaves, a paralegal with Jaffe and Clements, the firm handling her divorce. He fell hard for Nicole. The relationship lasted six months. But the pattern was the same. Brett and Nicole enter Nicky Blair’s or Mezzaluna: there is O.J. Brett would drive Nicole’s Ferrari: O.J. was tailing them.

  Today, this form of stalking is illegal in California. An actress named Rebecca Shaeffer had been stalked and killed a few years before, as had Theresa Saldana (Raging Bull), but the legislature had not yet enacted the changes it eventually would. Not that any law was likely to stop O.J. Simpson. While many have wondered how a man in such a position of celebrity and high profile would risk it all, these incidents answer that question. He had a controlling side that was above not only the law, but reason and common sense. O.J., a man easily recognized, stopped, asked for autographs and pictures, could not reasonably expect to tail his ex-wife without anybody paying just a little attention recognizing what was going on. He did it anyway. Again, in his mind his “strategy” was working. He managed to drive Shaves away as he had driven Zlomsowitch into the sunset.

  Just before Brett broke up with Nicole, he said O.J.’s constant intrusions were “spooky,” and said, “I’m scared for those kids. I have a feeling something bad is gonna happen.”

  In court papers, O.J. declared that his broadcast earnings were $100,000 less than before, and he had lost two fast-food joints in the 1992 LA. riots, ironically caused by rampaging blacks setting fire to black-owned businesses. Nicole ended up with $10,000 a month and a lump sum settlement of $433,750, which was certainly better than getting only a San Francisco condo she did not wish to live in. She planned to sell the property and buy a place in Brentwood. Finally the divorce was finalized on October 15, 1992.

  She also met a fun-loving, handsome party boy named Kato Kaelin, a fringe “actor” like so many in L.A. She enjoyed going to bars with him, and let him stay in her guesthouse. By now, according to her friends, Nicole was dating Marcus Allen. Marcus has always denied it. This had to be particularly ironic for the Juice; seeing “Young Juice,” his protégé, with his now ex-wife, although there is no evidence he knew of it, if indeed it was happening, but those were the rumors. His resemblance to O.J. in so many ways is telling of Simpson’s hold on his wife. She still loved and needed him, and sought a relationship with his “shadow.” But Allen’s public persona was almost as golden as O.J.’s. If he were to marry, or even take up in an open way with the wife, ex or not, of O.J. Simpson, it would be fodder for the scandal sheets.

  Then Nicole told Susie Kehoe she was tired of dating “younger guys,” and “I miss O.J.” Then Nicole heard O.J. was thinking of selling Rockingham and moving to Florida. That rocked her to the core. Then came perhaps the worst decision of her life.

  She decided to return to him. Incredibly, after all the stalking and jealousy, O.J.’s first reaction was, “Don’t call! I like my life now!” That meant a relationship with Paula Barbieri. Whether his fatal attraction to Nicole would have re-kindled later can only be speculated on, but now it was Nicole pursuing O.J. O.J. confided to friends he did not want any more of her “screaming and yelling,” and flatly stated “I don’t want to” get back with her.

  Then Nicole got aggressive! This was the sort of volatile relationship that frightened Dr. Forward so much; two hot tempers, combustible, aggressive. A tragedy in the making. A friend named Cathy Randa stated that after a while it became a strange turn-on for O.J. Nicole began stalking O.J. Finally O.J. came out and spoke to her. Nicole literally begged for him to come back. Apparently it was not just O.J. she missed; it was Rockingham, the friends, the parties, the family together, the life. Then they went to Cabo San Lucas together. “Nicole had walked to the brink of zero hour and won him back,” wrote Sheila Weller. O.J. viewed this as one of his greatest victories, right up there with beating UCLA in 1967, winning the Heisman Trophy, or getting elected to the Pro Football Hall of Fame.

  Then, according to rumor, Nicole told O.J. about Marcus Allen, who was planning to marry his girlfriend. This created an odd love quadrangle of passion, recriminations and jealousy between O.J., Allen, Nicole, and Paula Barbieri. When Paula called the Rockingham house and Nicole answered, Nicole was not happy. Shortly thereafter, Nicole, O.J., Faye Resnick and her boyfriend went to a sushi place in Hermosa Beach. O.J. tried to hit on a girl while making a phone call. Something was said and he “flipped like a switch,” wrote Sheila Weller. A huge public argument ensued.

  Still, O.J. was there to toast Lou at his 70th birthday party. The two hugged, best of buddies. But Faye Resnick was influencing Nicole, and she did not favor O.J. Nicole wanted to buy a property of her own, a big turn away from the schizophrenic desire to return to Rockingham and the life.

  A realtor named Jeane McKenna, an attractive blond once married to Dodgers player Jim Lefebvre, recalled Nicole complaining of O.J.’s cocaine use. She helped her buy a house south of Montana Avenue on Bundy Drive, a fairly busy thoroughfare that connects to the Santa Monica Freeway. O.J. was not happy about it.

  Then it all started up again. O.J. showed up, broke into the house, and Nicole called 9-1-1, claiming, “My ex-husband, or my husband” had broken in and was “ranting and raving.” In the background the operator heard O.J. making reference to Nicole providing oral sex to Keith Zlomsowitch. She reiterated “he’s crazy.”

  O.J. left before the cops arrived. After they departed, O.J. returned and she called again. “He’s back.” Asked who he was, she replied, “He’s O.J. Simpson, I think you know his record . . . he’s freaking going nuts.”

  O.J. was in the back rambling about hookers and blowjobs. Nicole told the operator she did not want to stay on the line, she wanted to escape the house with her children. She held the phone up and the operator could hear O.J. ranting and swearing, making reference to the National Enquirer.

  Three days later they re-united. Tom McCollum’s reaction: “Move 5,000 miles from each other!” Around this same time, a handsome young actor-hopeful began hanging around the trendy shops, bistros and bars of Brentwood. His name was Ronald Goldman.

  During the Christmas holidays of 1993, Kris Kardashian, now with Bruce Jenner, threw a party at their Malibu home. Nicole was in the kitchen getting ready to leave when she noticed a holiday gift with a card. She read it. It was to O.J., from Paula Barbieri. Nicole was none too pleased.

  She argued with O.J. during the drive along the Pacific Coast Highway. Strangely, the hanger-on Kato Kaelin was with them. For some reason Nicole was determined that he continue to freeload off of them, but her new Bundy house had no guest quarters. O.J., naturally jealous, especially of a hot young dude like Kato, decided that he could live in his guest house at Rockingham, as if the chance that the fellow could make do in this world on his own steam was beyond all possibility. But somehow moving into O.J.’s house was a betrayal of Nicole, a further oddity. O.J. was using him to spy on Nicole. In getting back together with O.J. Simpson, Nicole had managed to weave a strange web, and within this web was a growing number of people, all coming together in a cosmic conflagration of bad timing and worse karma.

  Then they arrived at the Jenner house. Already tense from a simmering argument in the car, O.J. and Nicole tried to relax amid the festive atmosph
ere. Then a man named Joseph Perulli entered the house. He was a handsome, dark-haired fellow who had dated Nicole. Kris did not invite him, knowing Nicole and O.J. would be there, but he showed up to hand out a Christmas basket to his friends, Kris and Bruce. Immediately, the atmosphere became tense, with O.J. stewing. But Perulli would not leave.

  “This is never going to end,” Kris recalled. “He’s never going to leave.”

  Bruce went over to talk to O.J., who had what Vietnam War veterans call the “thousand-yard stare,” blank and “sort of getting crazed,” said Kris. Finally, he stormed out with Nicole.

  But as 1993 turned to 1994, Nicole felt pretty good about things. She was “back” with O.J., sort of, but still lived at 875 South Bundy Drive, giving her independence. That independence meant freedom to date other men, which she somehow seemed to think she could get away with. But O.J. Simpson was a proud man, very well aware that whenever Nicole was in the presence of another man, everybody knew that his woman was stepping out on him. He was a proud, egotistical, controlling batterer. The clock ticked; a time bomb.

  He also had no love lost for Faye Resnick, the smoking hot brunette who was running a swath through the men on L.A.’s westside, often bringing a scantily-clad Nicole along for the ride.

  The uneasy arrangement continued, with O.J. taking Nicole to Atlanta for the Super Bowl, then on to a Florida. In Florida, Tom McCollum sensed that “something was wrong,” ands they spoke of the Menendez case, which had recently resulted in a hung jury in their double-murder trial.

  “They should take ‘em out and shoot ‘em!” O.J. told McCollum, but perhaps he also noticed how a good lawyer could sway a jury

  In March Nicole accompanied O.J., along with their kids, to the premiere of Naked Gun 33 1/3: The Final Insult. It was the last time they were photographed together. The Naked Gun series had made a star out of Leslie Nielsen. Elvis Presley’s beautiful ex-wife, Priscilla, had been marvelous. Other actors did star turns in the franchise. Even baseball star Reggie Jackson did a scene in which he was “programmed” to kill the Queen of England at a baseball game. O.J. had played Nordberg, the odd couple partner of Nielsen’s Frank Drebin. Everything was twisted around. His name, Nordberg, was the opposite of what an African-American would be called. O.J.’s character was clumsy, a black Inspector Clouseau, except not fleshed out. He always met with a bad fate, an accident, a terrible calamity like accidently having his stretcher roll off, down the stairs, and over the railing of Dodger Stadium, to crash below in what would kill a normal human, but in a comic turn just seemed to always put him in the hospital, with Drebin visiting, expressing sympathy, and accidentally causing him further anguish.

  O.J.’s scenes were funny, but it was because of Nielsen, or the director. These films, many believe (a TV movie about the 1994 tragedy played it up) were a big part of his pent-up anger towards Nicole. When O.J. was offered the part, he showed the screenplay to his wife, expressing enthusiasm at the role, which he saw as a chance to further his career, demonstrate his acting chops. Nicole had read it. Feisty and opinionated, she had seen the role for what it was; a dufus, a prop. The comedy of the scenes was pure slapstick, but required little from O.J. He was no Charlie Chaplin aping Adolf Hitler in The Great Dictator.

  She had the audacity to laugh at her husband, to mock and make fun of him. This set O.J. Simpson into one of his rages. Now, in March of 1994, they sat through the screening, which again was funny, but had the result of making O.J. look again like a stooge. Perhaps O.J. realized that as he watched it, in knowing his wife and maybe even his kids quietly felt the same way. This was not the airing of some highlight reel, number 32 slicing and dicing the Bruins in a broken field sprint, or carrying half the Jets’ defense on his back in the snow of Shea Stadium. Oh, the come down. Even the movie’s title mocked him: The Final Insult.

  The days passed. Nicole, O.J., and A.C. attended Marcus Allen’s 34th birthday party on Melrose Avenue. O.J. had to be watching them out of the corner of his eye. He must have known or suspected they had something going on, at least at one time.

  Over Easter Nicole went to Cabo. O.J. was hoping to revive his movie career, and did a TV pilot called Frogman. He played a Navy SEAL–type, and had to learn a swift, complicated attack with a large knife. After filming he joined Nicole in Cabo. Friends said his presence upset her. When he returned he entered a downtown Los Angeles knife store, Ross Cutlery, and purchased a folding stiletto, similar to what his character used. It added to his large knife collection. He also told a friend Nicole was “too much trouble.”

  Nicole had a circle of young male friends. In some ways, they were the college pals she never had. Her youth had been given to O.J. Simpson and the mature, glamorous world he lived in. Now she was hanging with guys in their early 20s, some of whom she even let drive her white Ferrari.

  According to reports, most if not all of these friends were platonic. They were generally college-types from good families with decent morals, but to O.J. Simpson, his hot wife surrounded by young studs conjured the worst fears and scenarios in his mind. While one of them, Mike Davis was black, most of the others were “white boys.” O.J. Simpson was described by one pal as the “least prejudiced person in the world.” His friends were predominantly white, and his critics felt he rejected his black identity. But he was still O.J., the football hero from the projects. Race was impossible to avoid, and to this proud fellow, it had a sexual meaning. He had achieved “conquest,” his school’s fight song, the focus of Marv Goux’s pep talks, of the white race by “taking what’s yours without asking,” in the form of an 18-year old blond who he practically raped in a car on their first date.

  Society was different. Now, a liberal woman could “give” herself to the black man as a form of reparation for past injustices. It was a political act. While there is little if any evidence that this was Nicole’s motivation, there is no question that it is the motivation of many guilty white girls. But, to have the tables turned?

  O.J. was “the man who seemed to dog and provoke her – every day that she wasn’t dogging and provoking him,” wrote Sheila Weller, adding that theirs was a ”no-win” experience. Many felt that way. Tom McCollum certainly saw disaster ahead if they did not make their split a final one.

  By May, Nicole was telling her young friends that she was again resolved not to be with O.J. any more. Faye Resnick was also influencing her. She later alleged she and Nicole had a physical affair. The rumors of an affair with Marcus Allen were hot and heavy, which was like playing with dynamite.

  O.J. and Nicole attended the first communion of Denise’s young son. The next day, 34-year old Nicole Brown Simpson made out her will! The following week, O.J. did not show for Sydney’s first communion. A friend named Rolf Bauer said this was the last straw of a sort for Nicole, and ultimately was the reason she did not invite him to dinner at Mezzaluna on June 12. The couple had a big fight over money. Another argument resulted in O.J. agreeing to see a therapist for his tempter. He actually attended some sessions, abruptly stopping shortly before June 12.

  When Nicole got sick, O.J. tried to comfort her. Her 35th birthday was on May 19, and O.J. gave her some beautiful jewelry. When Ron Shipp called Nicole he was troubled, sensing something wrong. He began to worry that Nicole’s increasingly wild single life was no healthier than the abusive relationship she had with O.J.

  Then Nicole “broke up” with O.J., returning the jewelry, declaring, “I can’t be bought.” Her closest friends began to sense that, finally, she was over him. O.J.’s reaction was to “woo Paula Barbieri back in earnest,” wrote Sheila Weller. A friend saw them together at the House of Blues, stating that O.J. was drunk but she “had her guard up.” O.J. seemed “hurt.”

  On May 27, a store called Cinema Secrets received an order for a disguise; short mustache, short beard, surgical glue. It was paid for on O.J.’s credit card. Cathy Randa picked up the order. Later O.J. told investigators he wore disguises in public on occasion. Those who know h
im say he never did. He was well known to love attention in public.

  In early June, Nicole noticed a spare key to her house was missing. On June 5, Nicolle discovered that O.J. was threatening to call the IRS and inform them that she had declared a tax break that she was not entitled to. The potential cost to the government was $90,000. Told O.J. would never do that to his own children, Nicole said he would because “he’s crazy.” Two days later Nicole called a women’s shelter and told them O.J. Simpson was stalking her.

  On June 10 Nicole told a friend she had been reading Dr. Susan Forward’s Book Obsessive Love. “I Finally get it,” she stated. “O.J. is a classic obsessive. He fits the pattern in every way.” Whether she recognized – as Dr. Forward and Ron Shipp had – that she, too, was an obsessive, is not readily known.

  Because of the potential of O.J. informing her to the IRS, she had to consider moving out of the Bundy place. When she and a friend went looking at property, she seemed to get spooked by the idea of living close to North Rockingham. She began thinking of Malibu. On June 11 she actively began making plans to leave Bundy and buy the Malibu property. On June 11 she watched Sydney rehearse to the soundtrack of the movie Footloose. The mother of another girl noticed that while O.J. had attended the previous year – it was on father’s day – he was not here this time, but her reaction was that this seemed a very civilized divorce.

  On June 12, Paula Barbieri broke up with O.J. Simpson.

  Around midnight, as June 12 was turning into the 13th, a neighbor of Nicole’s named Bettina Rasmussen was taking a stroll with her husband, Sukru Boztepe. They noticed a dog trailing blood on its paws. They followed the dog to the courtyard of Nicole Brown Simpson’s home on North Bundy Drive, where they found two massacred, bloodied human beings, both undoubtedly dead. They were Nicole and Ronald Goldman. The police were quickly informed.

  Running interference

  Mark Fuhrman received a phone call at 1:05 in the morning on June 13, 1994. “We’ve got a double homicide,” Ron Phillips of the West Los Angeles Homicide Division told him. “One of the victims might be the wife of O.J. Simpson.”

  Fuhrman had been called to the Simpson house at North Rockingham in 1986 on one of Nicole’s many domestic abuse complaints, but this murder scene was at an address a few minutes away, on North Bundy Drive. It would have been impossible not to immediately consider the possibility that the suspect was O.J. Simpson.

  The Simpson’s young children were found sleeping upstairs, and had been quietly taken to the West L.A. station, not yet aware of the horror their lives would become. Nicole was dressed for indoors, her shoes removed. An ice cream was not yet melted. Romantic music played on the stereo. There were lighted candles around the bathtub.

  Ron Goldman was dressed for outdoors. His shoes were still on. There was blood everywhere, and obvious blood tracks. A knife had killed both. It appeared that the killings had been done in an unprofessional manner. The murderer had left clues without taking the time to remove them or, more precisely, had failed to execute a well-planned killing that left no clues. It was sloppy. The suspect had apparently been bleeding, as well. A left glove had been dropped, apparently lost in the struggle.

  As Fuhrman made his notes, Detective Phillips told him the case had been assigned to Robbery/Homicide. He would not be the lead investigator. He immediately knew this was a huge case, the killing of the ex-wife one of the biggest celebrities in the world . . . a few minutes from where that celebrity lived. The man the case would be assigned to, Detective Philip Vannatter, arrived at 4:05 A.M. Fuhrman and Phillips had never met him.

  At first Fuhrman felt his work was done. He wanted to grab breakfast at Coco’s. He would have to consolidate his notes into a report, and knew it would be a long day. But Phillips received a phone call on his cell. Then he asked Fuhrman if he knew how to get to O.J. Simpson’s estate on North Rockingham Avenue. Fuhrman had some vague memory of the directions, having been there some eight years earlier. The original purpose of the visit was to deliver an “in person” notice of death to Mr. Simpson, and give him a chance to be with his kids. For Fuhrman, his first thoughts were that breakfast at Coco’s was out the window.

  There were other police there, so the job of telling O.J. his wife was dead did not fall on Fuhrman’s shoulders, so he looked around. O.J.’s white Ford Bronco was parked on Rockingham at a haphazard angle. Later, it was discovered that he always parked that automobile in a different location, one that all his neighbors saw and took for granted was the place he parked it. Now, for the very first time ever, it was parked in a different location (as if he did not want somebody parked in front of the main gate to know it was there, or was arriving there). Fuhrman inspected it. He saw a piece of splintered wood nearby, oddly out of place as everything else was perfectly manicured and ordered. The hood was cold. The vehicle was very clean, except for a reddish-brown stain inside which, using his flashlight, appeared to be blood. He found several more small bloodstains on the doorsill and also where the driver’s shoes had touched the floor. A dirty shovel seemed out of place in the otherwise-pristine white Bronco. He told Detectives Vannatter and his partner, Tom Lange, that he saw bloodstains. A DMV check revealed the Bronco registered to the Hertz rental car company.

  O.J. was not home. To the cops, two possibilities materialized. One was that O.J. was a suspect. The other was that he was a victim. The security car that oversaw the house was called. The detectives determined that they now had probable cause to enter the Simpson home. Their first concern was that a killer was on the loose. Victims could be inside the house, or even the killer. Fuhrman jumped the wall. The security man told them the maid was supposed to be inside, but she had not appeared. Fuhrman released the gate and the other police entered. They rang the doorbell.

  Kato Kaelin was discovered in the bungalow. He told the police that O.J.’s daughter Arnelle was in the next bungalow. Kaelin informed the police that around 10:45, he heard loud thumps, which he thought had been an earthquake. He told the police a limo had picked up O.J. Fuhrman walked outside the bungalow. Knowing there had been no earthquake, he suspected a person had been responsible for the thumps. He came across O.J.’s right-hand glove, which matched the left-hand one found at the crime scene. It had blood on it. He suspected the killer might still be in the shadows, near him. He drew his weapon.

  Then Phillips informed everybody that O.J. was in Chicago. He had left the property around 11 at night. Everybody thought the same thing; he had time to do this crime. Phillips and Fuhrman returned to Bundy to match the gloves. They matched. Then Fuhrman returned to North Rockingham. Further investigation revealed that the blood at Bundy, at Rockingham (on the walkway, inside the light-stained oak floor), and of course in the Bronco, would eventually be determined to be a combination of O.J., Nicole and Goldman’s blood. While some tiny possibility existed that O.J. and Nicole – a married couple that fought a lot – shed blood at Nicole’s house, in the car, and at O.J.’s home, there was absolutely no logical reason - beyond O.J.’s involvement in some way – that Goldman’s blood would be part of the mix.

  Any question as to whether Rockingham was a related crime scene was now over. Arnelle handled the immediate, terrible task of dealing with the two children. Al Cowlings was called and came over to be with the children, too. They, along with Kaelin, were all transported to the West L.A. station house. The home was inspected to make sure nobody else was there. In O.J.’s room, some black socks were on the floor. Vannatter began the process of obtaining a legal search warrant, and told Fuhrman he was in charge of the crime scene. H wanted to impound the Bronco, but Vannatter canceled the request.

  A next-door neighbor named Rosa Lopez was questioned. She spoke perfect English. At the trial she pretended not to speak the language. As the day broke, word was leaking out. Ron Shipp called the house. He knew Fuhrman well.

  “O.J. didn’t hurt Nicole, did he?” he asked. It was his first reaction.

  The media was already gather
ing. Around mid-day, O.J. arrived. He had been called in Chicago and told to come home immediately. Prosecutor Christopher Darden noticed something unusual about O.J.’s reaction.

  “Simpson hadn’t asked which ex-wife was murdered,” he stated. “He hadn’t asked how his ex-wife had been killed or by whom.”

  O.J. made 13 methodical phone calls from Chicago. One was to Nicole’s parents. Denise came on the phone, hysterical. “You killed her, you brutal motherf----r!” she screamed at him. Then O.J. asked Mrs. Brown, “What are your girls trying to do to me?” Again, it was all about O.J. He made 14 additional calls on his cell phone. One was to Kato Kaelin, to set up his alibi.

  In Los Angeles, a black officer named Don Thompson handcuffed him and led him toward the house. The immediate concern was that he would walk around, contaminating the crime scene.

  O.J. already knew that his wife was dead, but his initial response was to ask why the police were at his house. It seemed to be a greater concern to him than the murder. Then he was told a blood trail from North Bundy had led directly to his home. He then began to sweat and hyperventilate, muttering, “Oh man, oh man, oh man.”

  O.J. was taken to Parker Center. He immediately “lawyered up” with his attorney, Howard Weitzman. Back at his house, the police found freshly watched black sweats, a perfect outfit to wear if one wished to be undetected in the dark. They also found more blood smears in the bathroom, and a knife box with the weapon removed. Fuhrman found the movie Ghost in the VCR. The film is about love, jealousy and murder. Then Marcia Clark, the first prosecutor assigned to the case, arrived and was given a tour of the evidence by Fuhrman. He was there all day, finally leaving at 6:00 P.M. As he left, Fuhrman thought to himself that people get away with murder every day.

  Despite the presence of Howard Weitzman, Orenthal James Simpson agreed to speak to Detectives Lange and Vannatter on the afternoon of June 13. He already had been told that a blood trail connected the Bundy residence to the Rockingham residence. Why did he agree to speak without his attorney present, having signed a Constitutional advisement and waiver? According to Fuhrman, it was because he had “an ego so large that he gambled his life on his ability to withstand the questions of two seasoned homicide detectives.”

  This speaks to his personality, and in large measure why Nicole stayed with him so long. He could talk. He had the “gift of gab.” It had served him well his whole life. In addition to using his silver tongue to lure his wife back to him countless times, it had made him popular, a multi-millionaire pitchman, and one of the most loved athletes of all time. But he did not realize how much evidence the police already had accumulated against him. He also knew that both in the public conscience, as well as in law enforcement vernacular, “only the guilty hide behind their lawyers.” Innocent people usually are eager to speak and exonerate themselves. He wanted to look like an innocent man, to the cops and to the media.

  O.J. was asked about previous crime reports filed by his ex-wife. He confirmed the 1989 New Year’s incident adding, “I didn’t make a report,” and also an altercation from a year earlier when he “kicked her door or something.”

  The detectives moved to the Bronco; it’s haphazard parking angle (they did not yet know it was parked in a place it never had been parked in before) and the bloodstains. He was vague and unresponsive. O.J. claimed not to have driven the Bronco since the previous afternoon, a statement that would later be proven a lie when the report from another driver he almost hit driving back from the murder was revealed.

  Then O.J. said he had tried to find his “girlfriend,” Paula Barbieri, after the dance recital, a contradiction with his assertion that he had not driven since the afternoon (not to mention Sydney’s dance recital which started at 4:30). O.J.’s answers also contradicted what Kato Kaelin had told them.

  O.J. had a severe cut on his hand. He said he could not recall how he had been cut. He claimed to have broken a glass in Chicago, upset after getting the call from the L.A.P.D. that Nicole was dead. He tried to say this cut caused the blood in the Bronco, but that was impossible. He had not been in the Bronco after returning from Chicago. He added some incoherencies about being in a “rush.” Later, his defense invented the theory that he went into the Bronco to get his cell phone. None of these answers made sense; he expected people to believe that despite a sizable, bloody cut, he never wrapped or treated it, just ran around with blood dripping all over the place, not to mention that he could not recall how he got cut originally. When pressed by the interrogators, he gave as his “answer” that he ate at McDonald’s and was in a hurry. Later he claimed he was cut playing golf, an injury that golf historians cannot recall since the game was invented in Scotland in the Middle Ages, yet O.J. was tracking blood as if he was on the set of Braveheart.

  Later, O.J. said he was playing golf in his backyard, contradicting his “rushing around” answer, but limo driver Allan Park said he told him he had overslept. In a civil trail brought by the Goldmans, O.J. changed his story again; he had not been cut until he injured his knuckle in reaction to the news of Nicole’s death. This meant he claimed he cut himself playing golf, then changed it to a broken glass in Chicago, then back to playing golf, then back to a knuckle injury in Chicago. He tried to say he had been cut but it re-opened. O.J. also said he had not bled at Nicole’s house, even though his blood was found at Nicole’s house.

  O.J. claimed to have been a “battered husband.” He turned down a lie detector test because he said he had “weird thoughts.” Around this time, largely at the suggestion of the cops, O.J. invoked his right to counsel, at which time Lange told him he was the prime suspect. Overall, it was a poorly conducted interrogation by both detectives, and was of little if any help to the prosecution. What should have been a long, grueling Q&A meant to wear down the suspect, lasted only 37 minutes.

  Because of his celebrity status, O.J. was allowed to leave on his own recognizance. He was not yet arrested, and the public did not truly believe he was a suspect. Incredibly, the white Bronco was not confiscated, to be gone over with a “fine tooth comb” for blood and other DNA. It remained in O.J.’s possession.

  On the evening of Thursday, July 16, O.J.’s new lawyer, criminal big shot Robert Shapiro, talked the police into letting his client surrender himself at 8:30 in the morning the next day. Detective Lange did him one better; he said he had until 11 to get O.J. down to the station for his arrest. Shapiro said O.J. was suicidal, but would do his best.

  O.J. was not at Rockingham. He was at Bob Kardashian’s house in Encino, performing a number of legalistic tasks in preparation for the arrest and possible incarceration. Kardashian was seen carrying O.J.’s garment bag after he returned from Chicago. Never proven, it has been speculated that this contained O.J.’s bloody clothes and the murder weapon, disposed of by his friend.

  The next day, the detectives stood waiting around for an hour past the 11:00 A.M. deadline for the suspect to present himself. They determined he was a fugitive and went to Kardashian’s house to arrest him. They were directed to his room. He was not there.

  At 1:55 the L.A.P.D. held a televised news conference, announcing in effect that he was a wanted man. This was enormous news to the general public, which had found the idea of O.J., Simpson murdering his wife to be beyond the ken. Almost nobody, not even his biggest fans, many teammates and associates, had any idea that he was a habitual wife-batterer. An hour later District Attorney Gil Garcetti publicly called him a fugitive from justice.

  At the time, CNN was the only 24-hour a day cable news channel. Word spread around the globe to turn them on and watch. Rumors began circulating within the police department that O.J. had committed suicide. At 5:00 P.M. in a TV news briefing, Bob Kardashian read a “suicide letter” O.J. left in his bedroom.

  Then the white Bronco was spotted on the Los Angeles freeways. A phalanx of law enforcement vehicles chased him, with helicopters watching from the sky. Then the media got wind of it, and suddenly the “slow speed cha
se” was televised for the entire world to see. The entire world, it seemed, did see it. This was one of the all-time media events, ever. It was like Bobby Thomson’s “shot heard ‘round the world” in 1951, or the moons hot in 1969. The great majority of human beings aware of anything, with access to a TV or radio, can recall where they were when this happened. The world wide web had launched in 1993 and owed much of its growth to people following it via the Internet. It is not a coincidence that cable television expanded far beyond what it was in 1994, with Fox News, MSNBC, and other stations coming into being in the years after the chase, and the subsequent, obsessive coverage that followed over the next year-plus.

  Al Cowlings had arrived at Kardashian’s home and helped spirit his oldest friend away. Exactly what happened, why it happened, whose idea it was, what was said in the vehicle; most of this remains speculation to this day. A.C. had told O.J. he would “kill” him if he ever hurt Nicole again, after learning of one of the beatings. Whether he knew, suspected or believed O.J. had killed her now, he did not turn on him. His instincts were to protect him.

  There is no doubt O.J. was in fact suicidal, but the motivations behind this emotion were not fleshed out, either. A man whose ex-wife had just been murdered might be suicidal. A man racked with guilt over having murdered his ex-wife could feel the same way. Cowlings was just the man to talk his pal from killing himself, and O.J. probably knew he would need him at this very moment, which is why he “recruited” him to take him . . . somewhere.

  But where? Speculation was that they were headed to Nicole’s gravesite in Orange County, where O.J. had sat uncomfortably the previous day with family members, many of whom suspected him even as he sat mourning with them in an utterly bizarre scene.

  But he may have been trying to make a break for the Mexican border, some two hours away (longer with heavy traffic). Many were reminded of a Sam Peckinpah movie, The Getaway, in which Steve McQueen and Ali MacGraw make a break south of the border.

  Bob Tur of the Los Angeles News Service, contracted by L.A. television station KCBS, had exclusive coverage, but eventually 20 others joined the chase, a potentially hazardous aerial conflagration over highly populated communities. It was only a few days before the longest evening of the year, so visibility was excellent.

  A motorist on the 405/San Diego Freeway first spotted the Bronco. The police tracked O.J.’s cell phone. With a police vehicle blaring its sirens right behind them, a call was made and answered by A.C., who told the police O.J. was in the back seat with a gun to his head. Beginning at that point, the police car backed off. About 20 law enforcement vehicles trailed, at some times paralleled, and even drove ahead of the Bronco, which proceeded at around 35 miles per hour.

  Every radio and TV station canceled its regular programming, it seems, and focused on the event. Of course, that meant most of the drivers on the L.A. freeways knew what was going on. They heard it on the radio, received calls on cell phones, or just plain saw the freeways ahead of them parting like the Red Sea. Aware some very potentially dangerous activity was taking place, with police cars everywhere, they held back.

  It was rush hour on a Friday. The freeways O.J. and A.C. traversed – the 405, the 605, the 5 – are at that time crawls, near parking lots. The trip from Brentwood to Laguna Beach, some 45 minutes or so absent traffic, on a normal Friday could take two hours or more. The entire time the “slow speed chase” occurred, there was never a traffic jam, or any other automobile blocking, or slowing their pace, in any way. It was completely surreal.

  Once they knew they were being followed, A.C. and O.J. gave up any plans to visit Nicole’s gravesite or the Mexican border. They did not head straight back to North Rockingham, either. They traversed and cris-crossed much of the Los Angeles freeway system. Presumably, the reason for this was to give A.C. a chance to talk O.J. out of killing himself, and to strategize on what the best plan of action was. An incredibly bizarre thing happened along the way. People gathered at freeway overpasses. Makeshift signs were unfurled. Especially in black neighborhoods, the general chant was, “Go, O.J., go,” right out of the old Hertz commercials. It was a foretaste of the trial. His support from the black community was already clear.

  USC sports announcer Pete Arbogast contacted O.J.’s old Trojans coach, John McKay, who went on the air to encourage his former star to turn himself in. Detective Lange then realized he had O.J.’s cell phone number and called him directly, urging him to throw the gun out the window. O.J. apologized and tried to rationalize his behavior. He said he was “the only one who deserved to get hurt” and desired to “just gonna go with Nicole,” a veiled reference to suicide and the after-life. O.J.’s friend Al Michaels, one of the most famous sports announcers in the world, interpreted O.J.’s action as an admission of guilt.

  By this time, most programming, including an NBA Finals game, was interrupted to show the “slow speed chase.” Tom Brokaw, Peter Jennings and Barbara Walters were among the network anchors and personalities covering it. Pizza deliveries were at an all-time high as people refused to leave their homes or even take their eyes off TV sets.

  O.J. demanded that he speak to Eunice Simpson. Then he returned to North Rockingham, where his son Justin ran to the car. He remained in his seat for 45 more minutes, negotiating with the police. Finally he was allowed to go inside where he drank some orange juice and spoke to his mom. Shapiro arrived a few minutes later and announced O.J, had surrendered to the authorities.

  The cops searched the Bronco, where they found $8,000 in cash, clothes, a .357 Magnum, a passport, family pictures, a fake goatee and mustache. Despite the fact these were precisely the items a murderer would have on him when he made his escape from justice, somehow, some way, the jury never heard any of this! While the public had not yet learned of the DNA evidence that the police already had, the entire “slow speed chase” crystallized his guilt in their minds. It was simply the act of a desperate, guilty man thinking not of his murdered wife, or of justice being served (catching the “real killers”), but only of himself. A selfish, narcissistic act, the pattern of his life.

  Law enforcement would add everything up quickly: the DNA, the “slow speed chase,” and as the investigation deepened, very strong circumstantial evidence combined with motive, opportunity, and past behavior. Many experienced police and prosecutors agreed that in their entire careers, never had so much evidence accumulated in a murder case. The only thing missing was videotape or an eyewitness.