The extraordinary moment – perhaps destined to become the pivotal moment in the trial – came as prosecutor Christopher Darden was questioning a witness about the gloves allegedly worn by Simpson during the murders. The left-hand one had been found near the savagely attacked bodies of Nicole Brown and Ronald Goldman, and the right outside Simpson’s house. Nicole, in a tragic irony, had bought the $55 leather gloves, or similar ones, during a trip to the New York store in 1990, according to the earlier testimony of a Bloomingdale’s buyer named Brenda Vemich.
Then, in what had the makings of a dramatic and damaging prosecution gambit, Darden asked Simpson to try on the gloves. But first, defense lawyer Johnnie Cochran insisted that Simpson, like other witnesses, put on a pair of latex gloves, ostensibly to protect against disease, Simpson did so and then began tugging on the extra-large Aris Leather Lite gloves. He grimaced, writhed and distorted his body. He pursed his lips and arched his eyebrows – overacting, perhaps, much the way a pass receiver exaggerates a hit by a defender to draw a penalty. Moving to within a few feet of the jury Simpson muttered, in what may amount to the sum total of his testimony: “They’re too small . . . They’re too tight.”
He finally pulled the gloves on, though they looked stretched and short on his wrist. But, at Darden’s request, he was able to grip a pen to simulate holding a knife. And he slipped the gloves off easily. Waving his hands in front of the transfixed jury, Simpson displayed a gleeful, I-told-you-so look. So, too, did defense lawyer Alan Dershowitz, who later told NEWSWEEK, “It’s ‘Cinderella.’ They tried to shove a slipper on a foot and it didn’t fit.”
That, of course, would make O.J. one of the evil stepsisters, but never mind. The obvious question reverberated around the country: why did prosecutors try the demonstration without first making sure it would work in their favor? It’s the most elementary of lessons for trial attorneys, taught even before classes on how to bill. “At the peak of their case,” said former Los Angeles district attorney Ira Reiner, “the prosecution actually put on evidence that O. J. Simpson might not be the murderer.”
To his credit, Darden had apparently considered the possibility that the gloves might not fit Simpson. He asked Judge Lance Ito to have Simpson try them on out of the jury’s presence. But after a short sidebar conference with Ito and defense lawyers, the trial resumed before the jury. And, inexplicably to most legal experts, Darden plunged ahead with the Simpson demonstration. It wasn’t known why he did not pursue his request for the glove demonstration away from the jury. Darden can’t be blamed solely for the fiasco; it’s hard to believe that he acted without the knowledge of lead prosecutor Marcia Clark and District Attorney Gil Garcetti. In a statement to NEWSWEEK, Garcetti said: “We are confident that by the time we finish the case the jurors will conclude that the gloves found at Rockingham and Bandy were Mr, Simpson’s and he wore them on June 12.”
Clearly abashed and discomfited, Darden tried to recover after Simpson sat down. He solicited from the witness, Richard Rubin, a former top executive with Aris Isotoner Inc., the contention that the gloves should have easily fit Simpson’s hands. That testimony wasn’t compelling enough, however, so after three hours of urgent preparations, prosecutors recalled Rubin to the stand the next day to try to explain why Simpson had so much trouble putting on the gloves. Rubin said that the gloves had probably shrunk as much as 15 percent since they were bought. A drenching could have caused that, he said. Trying them on while wearing latex gloves, Rubin also said the lining in the left glove was bunched up, which would have hindered a person from pulling it on. He also speculated that the latex gloves Simpson wore the day before probably impeded him, too.
The explanations were logical enough and somewhat repaired the prosecution gaffe. But they would have been far more effective if they had come before the demonstration rather than after, so the jury would not have been surprised. The after-the-fact testimony also left Rubin vulnerable to a strong cross-examination by Cochran. The lawyer got Rubin to say that three cubic centimeters of a liquid would not shrink the glove – that was a reference to the estimated amount of blood on the glove. Rubin also conceded he had not testified about potential leather shrinkage before Simpson tried the glove on. Defense lawyer F. Lee Bailey told NEWSWEEK his side would hammer on another point during its case: why didn’t the state have Simpson try on the gloves last year during the investigation? The answer, he suggests, fits into the defense’s claim of police incompetence and rush to judgment.
With the state expected to conclude its case in early July, it should now be building to an emotional and legal crescendo. Instead it is limping along, and faces the prospect that Simpson’s live act might be etched permanently in jurors’ minds. “The whole demonstration seemed to scream out innocence, and it’s these dramatic effects that matter with juries,” said Paul Rothstein, a law professor at Georgetown University Law Center. Defense lawyers could now pursue their seemingly implausible theme, with at least some basis, that the glove found at Simpson’s house was not his but was planted by corrupt police. That still doesn’t explain away the damaging DNA tests, which showed that one glove contained blood that matched Simpson’s and the two victims’. Nor does it posit exactly who else had the motive to kill Nicole or Goldman. But it could raise the reasonable doubt some jurors may be searching for – allowing O.J. to walk on his gloved hands.
Prosecution: When you make a mistake, it’s a beaut. Resignation isn’t an option, so march on. If there’s no mistrial, there’s always the sympathy vote. It can’t get any worse, can it?
Defense: Boxer Robert Shapiro jabbed and jabbed at the coroner’s opinions but the Juice takes the Golden Gloves trophy.
Judge Ito: Any week with no juror dismissals–or surreptitious surveillance of gum-chewing reporters–constitutes a success in our book.
