Read Murder in Brentwood Online
Authors: Mark Fuhrman
Tags: #True Crime, #Murder, #General, #Biography & Autobiography, #Criminals & Outlaws, #History, #United States, #20th Century
Midday on June 17, I was having lunch in the San Fernando Valley with John Wright, a city attorney. John had defended me in a case involving a suspect, Joseph Britton, who was shot during a robbery. During the trial, John and I became good friends, but that day I did not divulge to him any particulars about the Bundy murders. I knew there was going to be a press conference about the case, so we sat in the bar within view of the television.
As soon as the press conference started, I knew that something was wrong. Nobody was on the stage. The press conference had been delayed. Then they said there was a bomb threat. I exclaimed, “John, I’ve got to get back, something’s wrong!” I left without finishing my lunch.
I drove as fast as the Los Angeles traffic would allow me, which at some points was merely a crawl. When I finally reached the West LA station it was a little after 12:30 P.M. Ron Phillips and Brad Roberts were headed toward their vehicles. Ron yelled to me, “Simpson didn’t show to surrender. They can’t find him. Robbery/Homicide wants us up at the Rockingham estate; he might show there.”
Brad Roberts and I drove there together, parked on Ashford, and waited. While sitting in the car, Brad and I remembered that the house directly east of Simpson’s, bordering the tennis court, could easily be used to enter the estate without being seen. We approached the residents, who had just purchased the house, and asked to sit in their backyard. They were very cooperative, explaining that the house was still empty and we could use any part of it we needed. We both sat in lawn furniture that gave us a view of Ashford and the tennis court access from the two properties. We stayed there most of the afternoon, waiting for Simpson to return.
At 1:55 P.M., LAPD Commander David Gascon finally had his long-delayed press conference. After informing the press and public about the charges against O.J. Simpson, and the arrangement for his surrender, Gascon then said: “Mr. Simpson has not appeared. The Los Angeles Police Department right now is actively searching for Mr. Simpson.”
An hour later, Gil Garcetti had another press conference, in which he said that Simpson was a fugitive from justice, and anyone assisting him would be committing a felony. One reporter asked him if he could explain how the LAPD let such a high-profile suspect escape. For once, Gil Garcetti did not have an answer.
Even though we were out in the field, we didn’t know any more or any less than the people downtown. Information was scarce, but late in the afternoon Ron Phillips notified us that Simpson might have committed suicide, but they still couldn’t find him. This news probably came from Robert Shapiro’s 5:00 P.M. press conference, when he asked Simpson, wherever he was, to surrender. Shapiro then introduced Bob Kardashian, who read a suicide letter Simpson had left behind.
Later, Phillips informed us that Simpson was with Cowlings in the Bronco driving on the freeway in Orange County. The police were chasing him, but rather slowly. Ron didn’t know where O.J. was headed, and said he’d keep us posted.
So, while most of America watched the now-famous slow-speed pursuit of Al Cowlings’s white Bronco across the Southern California freeways, we were sitting almost in Simpson s backyard trying to figure out where he would eventually stop. Once Simpson declared that he was headed for the Rockingham estate, things started happening rather quickly. He was on his way with dozens of police cars behind him, and we needed a plan.
Ron Phillips, arriving less than an hour before Simpson, was the ranking officer at the Rockingham scene and immediately took charge. He met with Brad and me outside the estate and described the situation as well as he knew it. He had a heavy responsibility at the estate, having to plan a tactical operation to capture Simpson and Cowlings, hopefully without injury. Simpson’s estate was now occupied by family members. When Ron realized that Rockingham was Simpson’s probable destination, the estate had to be evacuated.
Ron ordered Brad and me to accomplish this immediately. We entered the house and quickly made it clear to the people inside that they had to leave. Finding everyone was easy, as they were crowded around the television watching Simpson and Cowlings in the Bronco. It was as if they were watching a Super Bowl game and O.J. was running for the end zone.
Everyone left without much discussion or problem except Jason, Simpson’s oldest son. Jason stood at the top of the stairs and refused to leave the house, or even come downstairs. In a very calm but forceful voice Brad informed Jason that he was leaving one way or another, but one thing was sure-he was leaving. Jason, with as much bravado as he could muster, reluctantly came down and walked out to the street.
Phillips knew that SWAT had been notified, but he wasn’t sure when they would arrive. Ron, having worked Metro division as a uniformed officer, was familiar with tactical situations and realized that this would be complicated even further if there were not a plan in place if Simpson arrived before SWAT did, so he developed a contingency plan. Ron briefed me, Brad, and another detective, Randy Fredrickson, on what he wanted as a tactical plan to deal with the situation as it might unfold. Randy had experience in SWAT, so he began analyzing the tactical options. We discussed the layout and decided to leave the Ashford gate open and force the Bronco into that location. Then we chose cover positions and decided what roles we would be responsible for upon the Bronco’s arrival. As a past member of the LAPD pistol team, I was considered one of the best pistol shots in the department, and Brad wasn’t far behind, if at all. We were to be the shooters, positioned on either side of the driveway.
Without speaking to Brad, I knew he must have felt what I did. An enormous burden had just been placed on our shoulders. A man who was desperate, suicidal, and with a hostage/accessory would be here in a few minutes. We would have to make split-second decisions that not only our department or a few lawyers, but also the entire world, would dissect. This was not a desirable situation. But I knew that Brad and I would never say we couldn’t or didn’t want to do this. It was our job, and we were as ready as we could be.
I have had many conversations with Brad about what might have happened, and we have yet to come to the end of the scenarios. The scene was too much like a cop movie in which we weren’t sure of the script, and we didn’t want to speculate on the one thing we were sure of: we were caught in a situation where we could do virtually nothing right. We were not negotiators; we were not SWAT officers; we were homicide detectives. Had we delayed too long and Simpson killed himself or Cowlings, we would have been crucified. If our handling of the situation resulted in a shooting between Roberts, myself, and Simpson, we would have been criticized no matter who took the bullets. And even if we talked Simpson out of the standoff and convinced him to drop the weapon, O.J. would get the credit, not us. We were in a no-win situation, so we were damned glad when SWAT finally got there.
SWAT arrived just minutes before the Bronco pulled in, and quickly took over the tactical operation. The SWAT sniper positioned himself in the children’s playground, dressed in a Gurkha suit and armed with an AR-15 rifle. He was hugging the ground like a plant.
We watched the situation unfold from across the street. The scene was surreal. It was early evening and growing dark. Over our heads, some half dozen helicopters hovered. The noise was so loud I could barely hear myself speak, and had to plug one ear to hear anything on the radio. The street was blocked off with the media behind barricades to the north. One reporter tried to break away from the pack and was quickly stopped by the police. Hundreds of Simpson supporters had followed the pursuit and were now gathered on Sunset Boulevard. Some were throwing rocks and bottles. This could be the ignition point of a riot if something were to happen to Simpson.
The Bronco arrived with a long line of police vehicles. There were Highway Patrol and Sheriff’s cars, all with their lights blazing and sirens blaring. Hundreds of camera lights combined to make the scene look like a movie set. Policeman often complain that cop shows are completely unrealistic, but this was more unreal than anything I had ever seen on television. As so often happened in the Simpson case, you could never have imagined events so bizarre as those that actually happened.
Just as the Bronco entered the estate, a Highway Patrol officer with gun in hand leapt from his car and tried to go through the gate. Luckily, a SWAT officer holding an MP-5 machine gun grabbed him and pushed him away from the scene.
Hostage negotiation teams began speaking on the cellular phone with Cowlings and Simpson. The helicopters continued to rotate around the estate, and cameras flashed while we waited and waited. At one point, Simpson’s cellular phone battery went dead and we needed a replacement. Phillips asked a media anchor to donate his, but the anchor refused. Ron finally got another battery from a nearby resident who was glad to help. I’m sure that reporter feels cheated that he didn’t donate his phone, because it could have been his one connection to the case. Once the battery was replaced, negotiations continued until Simpson finally left the Bronco to go into the house one last time to talk to his mother. He also wanted to drink some orange juice. When Simpson emerged, he was handcuffed and taken into custody. The standoff was over.
The tactical operation concluded, Ron, Brad, and I headed for the estate to assist Robbery/Homicide with the new evidence. As Brad and I approached the drivers side of the Bronco, Jason Simpson ran up to us. With great emotion he shook our hands and exclaimed, “Thank you for not killing my dad!”
Walking by the Bronco, I saw the six-inch blue steel revolver in the back seat area. We had risked countless lives to save Simpson from himself, which would have been avoided if he had been booked the first day after the murders. By giving him his freedom, we only delayed the inevitable, and made an already complicated and difficult situation even more so. We allowed him four days to brood, feel guilty, worry about his future, and grow more desperate. His flight and pursuit created a tactical nightmare involving two counties and several law enforcement agencies. The slow-speed pursuit was unlike any treatment of any other felony fugitive I have ever seen or heard of. The chase and confrontation at Rockingham endangered the lives of dozens of officers. Police negotiated with an armed suspect who did not have a hostage, only a possible accessory.
Even after he surrendered, Simpson was allowed to go into his house to make a phone call and have a glass of orange juice. Finally, the police put the cuffs on a man who was a fugitive, had avoided arrest, had been carrying a gun, and had almost incited a riot. What other suspect would have been given this kind of treatment? Was it fair? Was it worth it?
What would have happened if Simpson hadn’t given himself up? He had a gun. His family was surrounded by spectators, countless members of the media, and a large police contingent. It would have been a real big mess. Luckily, he gave himself up, and Los Angeles was probably spared another riot. But having watched the pursuit and its conclusion, I wondered-how could anyone now say that Simpson wasn’t guilty?
Simpson had eluded arrest before. In the 1989 domestic abuse case, instead of handcuffing Simpson on the spot, the arresting officers asked him to go back inside his house and get dressed (Simpson was wearing a bathrobe). Once inside his house, Simpson escaped out another door, jumped in his Bentley, and drove off. The police attempted pursuit but soon lost him. He was eventually brought in for a plea on the domestic abuse charges, but was never confronted about his flight from the arresting officers. After all, he was O.J.
The 1989 incident was an indication of how Simpson thinks. He knows he’s going to be arrested, everyone knows who he is, everyone knows where he lives-it’s impossible for him to escape. Still, he runs away. He’s like a child who thinks that if he runs and hides for a while, everyone will forget he misbehaved, and he’ll be able to go home again. By 1994, the stakes were higher and the crime was more serious, but Simpson still believed that if he ran it would all be okay.
As of 8:53 P.M. on the evening of June 17, Simpson had nowhere to run. He was in custody. His mug shot shows a man filled with confusion and remorse. But whatever guilt he felt was quickly replaced by the cocky and callous attitude of the man who sat at the defense table, surrounded by his high-priced attorneys, and said: “ABSOLUTELY 100 PERCENT NOT GUILTY.”
Chapter 7
THE SCHEME TEAM
For some time it has been open season on African-American males...If it can happen to Michael Jackson or O.J.,
it can happen to any of us.
JOHNNIE COCHRAN
THE BRONCO CHASE, the suicide note, the interrogation, and the initial evidence all pointed to an apparently guilty suspect. But Simpson had resources most other suspects don’t. He was famous, wealthy, and well liked. He was a sports icon. Soon, he was surrounded by high-priced legal counsel.
Simpson’s defense attorneys were quickly dubbed the “Dream Team” by a media that never met a cliché they didn’t like. The Simpson lawyers used money, influence, and whatever tactics they could get away with to free their guilty client. That’s not to say that everything they did was unethical or wrong. In fact, there was some pretty good legal work done by the defense. Unfortunately, the good was obscured by character assassination, absurd theories, and baseless claims.
By the time of Simpson’s arrest, Robert Shapiro, a lawyer who often handled high-profile celebrity cases, had already replaced Howard Weitzman. Shapiro was known in legal circles for his proficiency at cutting deals. Even at this early stage, he probably thought Simpson was guilty, or was at least implicated with the murders in some way. But there was no reason for him to start negotiating a plea bargain now, especially since his client claimed he was innocent. So, Bob Shapiro went to work building his case.
Armed with the information Simpson had learned from the detectives during their interrogation, Shapiro began putting together the defense team. Knowing that there was significant forensic evidence against his client, Shapiro hired a top medical examiner, Dr. Michael Baden. Knowing there was a great deal of blood evidence, Shapiro hired one of the best criminalists in the world, Dr. Henry Lee. Knowing that the prosecution would test the blood for DNA, he brought aboard two of the best DNA litigators in the country, Barry Scheck and Peter Neufeld. Knowing that his client appeared very guilty and the evidence was damning, Shapiro figured that there was a good chance Simpson would be convicted, so he hired the most famous appellate lawyer on television, Alan Dershowitz.