Bugliosi for the Prosecution
December, 1994
"No matter the outcome of the trial, O.J. Simpson is guilty. There can be no doubt in the mind of any reasonable person."
—Vincent Bugliosi
Despite all the evidence to the contrary, O.J. Simpson could be considered lucky. Things may not ultimately go his way, but at least former Los Angeles County deputy district attorney Vincent Bugliosi isn't prosecuting him. During his tenure in the D.A.'s office, Bugliosi won convictions in 105 of the 106 felony jury cases he tried. Of the 21 that were murder cases, not one defendant got off.
Bugliosi, the model for the early Seventies TV series The D.A., bears an uncanny resemblance to Henry Fonda, with closely trimmed graying hair, thick eyebrows and earnest, inquiring blue eyes. He is soft-spoken and genial when he wants to be, and idealistic, emphatic and persuasive when he latches on to a heartfelt idea. He paces, uses his hands and body, and articulates precisely. As a trial lawyer he is noted for the meticulous and enormous amount of preparation he puts into his cases, and for his brilliant summations to the jury. Comments such as this one, from the editor of Courtwatchers Newsletter, about a summation Bugliosi gave in 1981 for the defense, are common: "Having seen the likes of F. Lee Bailey, James Neal, etc., Bugliosi's performance today in Judge Crowley's courtroom was the finest I have ever seen, and I have been a courtwatcher in Chicago since 1960." Harry Weiss, a veteran criminal defense attorney who has gone up against Bugliosi in court, told Los Angeles magazine, "I've seen all the great trial lawyers of the past 30 years and none of them are in Vince's class."
Bugliosi's office is in his southern California home, complete with a beautiful rose garden and gazebo. He takes few cases now, and will defend someone charged with a violent crime only if he believes he or she is innocent or there are mitigating circumstances. When Bugliosi has decided to represent a criminal defendant, he has continued his spectacular record in the courtroom, winning all three murder trials he has handled for the defense, making it 24 consecutive murder trials without a loss for him. His telephone, not surprisingly, rings constantly. Other lawyers want advice and, more often, reporters want interviews, primarily in regard to his most famous trials. This year is the 25th anniversary of the Tate-LaBianca murders that led to the trial in which Bugliosi faced off with Charles Manson and his co-defendants. Before that trial began, an attorney representing one of the defendants told the Los Angeles Times, "There's no case against Manson and the other defendants. All the prosecution has are two fingerprints and Vince Bugliosi."
It was enough. Although Manson was not at the murder scene, Bugliosi won convictions and the trial made Bugliosi one of the most famous lawyers in America. He went on to chronicle the case in Helter Skelter, which has sold more copies than any true-crime book in publishing history, outselling Truman Capote's In Cold Blood.
Bugliosi's years in the D.A.'s office brought him other memorable cases, one of which was documented in his book Till Death Us Do Part, about the trial of a former Los Angeles police officer and his paramour, who murdered their spouses for insurance money—a case eerily similar to the one in the movie classic Double Indemnity. The case was so circumstantial, and Bugliosi's investigation and prosecution so exceptional, that F. Lee Bailey said, "Bugliosi, the quintessential prosecutor, has written a crime book that should be read by every lawyer and judge in America." The book has indeed become a staple on reading lists in law schools.
In 1985, when British television decided to stage a "docutrial" of Lee Harvey Oswald (in front of a real federal judge and Dallas jury, with the original key lay witnesses in the Kennedy assassination and no script or actors), executives of the production company consulted top U.S. lawyers about whom they would prefer to see battle the case in court. The names they heard most frequently were Bugliosi for the prosecution, and criminal defense attorney Gerry Spence, who reportedly had not lost a jury trial in 17 years, to represent Oswald. Bugliosi and Spence worked on the case for five months, and the 21 hour trial took place in London in a replica of a Dallas federal courtroom. It was, Time magazine said, "as close to a real trial as the accused killer of John F. Kennedy will probably ever get." When the jury returned with a guilty verdict, Spence said, "No lawyer in America could have done what Vince did in this case." Bugliosi is now writing a book about the assassination.
Because of his background and his incisive, if occasionally incendiary, views concerning the law and the legal profession, Bugliosi is often tapped by national news programs to comment on high-profile cases. Currently, he is a consultant for CBS This Morning and ABC on the O.J. Simpson case. Late this summer we decided to ask him about the Simpson case as well as the recent spate of acquittals or hung juries in major cases that have many people feeling that American juries have taken leave of their senses. Some believe that the results of these seemingly airtight cases indicate that the entire judicial system is in trouble.
[Q] Playboy: Do you view the O.J. Simpson case as one of the most highly sensational murders ever?
[A] Bugliosi: Unquestionably. But there's really only one reason for it—O.J. Simpson. When you remove him from the equation, this is not an unusual murder case. He obviously killed his former wife and her male companion out of some passion and rage induced by jealousy, frustration, taunting or what have you. That couldn't be more common. In 1992, 29 percent of all female homicide victims in America were killed by their husbands or boyfriends.
[Q] Playboy: Eventually we want to get into why you are so sure Simpson is guilty. But let us ask you: Is the case receiving more attention than it should?
[A] Bugliosi: Definitely. Because of who Simpson is, there is no question that the case should receive tremendous publicity. But the media attention it is getting is absurd and disproportionate to the case. O.J. Simpson was a football star years ago. Since then he has had only modest success in television sportscasting and movies. Before these murders, he was not someone who was being talked or written about. When Nicole was introduced to him she had never even heard of him. Here's the proof that the treatment of the case is disproportionate: If Magic Johnson or Michael Jordan, who are bigger and much more current celebrities than O.J. Simpson was before the murders, had been accused of this type of crime, the media coverage wouldn't be any more intense. I dare say that if President Clinton were the accused, the media coverage wouldn't be any more pervasive. How could it be? All three major networks carried the preliminary hearing live. There's nothing you can do beyond that. It's already at the max. It reflects the increasingly superficial nature of our society. We've gone from the Lincoln-Douglas debates to campaigns for the presidency—where the destiny of the nation is at stake—being conducted by sound bites. Yet the Simpson case, which affects no one outside the immediate families, is covered live, all day, on the three major networks. The nation should be proud of itself. To compound the idiocy of it, the greater portion of the upcoming trial is going to be tedious and boring because of all the scientific testimony.
[Q] Playboy: Because of the publicity, can Simpson get a fair trial?
[A] Bugliosi: His lead lawyer, Robert Shapiro, has been arguing that he cannot. But it's difficult for the defense in this case to make the argument of excessive pretrial publicity, because not only have they contributed to it immensely, but much more tellingly, they haven't yet sought a protective order—a gag order—to attempt to control the publicity. Nor did they make any motion to keep TV cameras out of the courtroom during the preliminary hearing. If they were concerned about pretrial publicity, that would have been the time to attempt to close the doors, because the jury pool was exposed to a lot of negative evidence against Simpson. The defense made no effort to stop it.
[Q] Playboy: Can you imagine why?
[A] Bugliosi: Either incompetence, or Shapiro having his own reasons for wanting to be seen by millions of people on television.
[Q] Playboy: Incompetence? According to the media, Shapiro heads a crack defense team, the best money can buy.
[A] Bugliosi: I can't tell you how ridiculous that is. You know, you can forgive the public, but the media should know better. The media assume that if your life or liberty is on the line and you have a lot of money, you automatically get the best. Because that's the way it should be, these incredible simpletons immediately and unthinkingly assume that's the way it actually is, irrespective of the backgrounds and records of the lawyers involved. The reality is that most celebrity defendants are extremely unknowledgeable, naive and vulnerable, and if they get into trouble they usually call their lawyer friends who handle criminal cases. And if they do not know any, they call their business lawyers, who then refer them to lawyer (continued on page 193)Bugliosi(continued from page 154) friends of theirs who handle criminal cases. It's very incestuous.
[Q] Playboy: Is that what happened here?
[A] Bugliosi: It certainly appears that way. The first lawyer Simpson called was a close friend of his and a celebrity lawyer who I don't believe has handled a murder case in his life.
[Q] Playboy: Howard Weitzman?
[A] Bugliosi: Yes.
[Q] Playboy: Didn't Weitzman get John De Lorean off when there was a video showing De Lorean engaging in a cocaine transaction?
[A] Bugliosi: It would have only been an achievement if he had convinced the jury that De Lorean did not engage in the drug transaction. But that wasn't the issue. The issue was whether he had been entrapped, and since there was considerable evidence he had been, this was a relatively easy case for the defense. You don't even reach the issue of entrapment unless the jury concludes that the defendant did commit the crime.
[Q] Playboy: How did Weitzman do while he was representing Simpson?
[A] Bugliosi: I was on Larry King Live with Johnnie Cochran before he became a member of the defense team, and Johnnie said that if he were Simpson's lawyer he wouldn't let him talk with the police. I interjected that his first lawyer [Weitzman] already had, and that it was a monumental blunder, an enormous gift to the prosecution. Even if Simpson were innocent, in the emotionally traumatic state he was in on the morning after the murders he could have said things deleterious to his interests. But if he is guilty, it would virtually have been impossible for him to be grilled by detectives for two or three hours, trying to walk between raindrops, without telling one provable lie after another, without making one inconsistent or conflicting statement after another, all of which could be used by the D.A. to show a consciousness of guilt. A few days after I said this on national TV, and others started to criticize him, Weitzman said he had tried to stop Simpson from talking with the police.
[Q] Playboy: Do you believe him?
[A] Bugliosi: Well, the only reason Simpson would have for consenting to be questioned by the police is that if he refused, he would think he'd look guilty. But if his lawyer was advising him not to talk and, if necessary, insisting that he not do so, he had a way out. "Look guys, I had nothing to do with these murders, and I'd love to talk with you, but my lawyer won't let me." That would have been the end of it. Period.
[Q] Playboy: What do you think of Simpson's team of high-priced lawyers?
[A] Bugliosi: You know, there's an old Turkish proverb that whoever tells the truth is chased out of nine villages. You're asking me to make personal observations about a lot of people. You have to know I'm going to be candid with you, and I don't expect to be booted out of my village. [Smiles]
[Q] Playboy: OK. So what about Simpson's present lawyers, Robert Shapiro and Johnnie Cochran?
[A] Bugliosi: Shapiro is well respected in the legal community, but he has never distinguished himself as a trial lawyer in any manner. His expertise has been as a plea-bargainer. A reporter for the Los Angeles Daily Journal told me that she has been unable to find one single murder case Shapiro has ever tried, which is amazing. He did represent Christian Brando in that homicide a few years ago, but he pleaded Brando guilty, and Brando is still behind bars. Shapiro, like Weitzman, is another celebrity lawyer who mingles and socializes with the movie and entertainment crowd.
I'm sure he's a nice and honorable fellow, but thus far, he has not comported himself well in this case. In any murder case, especially one of this importance, to be adequately prepared requires working around-the-clock, seven days a week, upwards of a hundred hours a week. Instead, Shapiro is having a ball. One Sunday while the preliminary hearings were going on, instead of being at home reading reports, preparing crossexamination, etc., he showed up at a gym in Hollywood wanting to spar a couple of rounds with supermiddleweight champion James Toney. Incredible. During the prelim, he was reported to have been at a dinner party at a Los Angeles restaurant. With little time to prepare for the trial, he's seen at the Three Tenors concert at Dodger Stadium and at a country music gala. He's up in Las Vegas for Toney's fight. Even if he had an IQ of 400 and were a top-flight trial lawyer, this behavior would be inexcusable. But being who he is, you have to wonder about his sense of professional responsibility.
[Q] Playboy: What about Cochran?
[A] Bugliosi: Johnnie is a good lawyer, and very well liked and respected. But, although I might be wrong, I'm not sure he has ever won a murder case before a jury. He has mostly made a name for himself as a civil lawyer, not a criminal lawyer, representing plaintiffs in police brutality cases against the LAPD and L.A. sheriff's office. Johnnie is also a close friend of Simpson's and has been for years. To be truthful, for all of O.J. Simpson's money, it's nothing short of remarkable that he still doesn't have one lawyer representing him in court who has demonstrated any real competence in murder cases. But if you were to listen to the media, you would never know this. If a lawyer is on a big celebrity case, and charging a lot of money, they reason he must be the best. Who am I to quarrel with such powerful logic? When Mike Tyson was on trial, the media said the same thing—that he had put together the best defense team money could buy. You know where Mike is today, of course. This is what one national magazine later said about Tyson: "He watched as his $5000-a-day attorney fumbled his way through a closing argument."
[Q] Playboy: So what is it about all these bigtime lawyers?
[A] Bugliosi: There is no other profession with as many members who have managed to fashion for themselves out of thin air such a mighty image as that of the trial lawyer. Almost humorously, hundreds of trial lawyers in various sections of the country are known as "brilliant," "great," "high-powered," "silvertongued" and so on. One reason why this high regard is so easy to come by is the strong myth that has developed in our society—I imagine from novels and films—that lawyers are supposed to be these things. The reality is that if most prominent trial lawyers met their reputations out on the street, they wouldn't recognize each other. The media have been complicit in perpetuating the myth. For example, cross-examination as bland as pablum is routinely reported to be "rigorous" or "withering." Why? Because cross-examination is supposed to be rigorous and withering.
Similarly, there are some easy ways to destroy the credibility of an adverse witness that even a relatively unskilled cross-examiner can do—introducing prior inconsistent or contradictory statements of the witness, showing the witness' bias or vested interest, his poor character for truth and veracity, etc. It's always amusing to me when I see laypeople and the media being so impressed when a lawyer does these simple, obvious things in court, things an average person would instinctively know to do. Here's how ingrained the myth is: How many times have you heard a layperson, talking about a weakness in a case, say, "A clever lawyer would—" and then proceed to tell you what the layperson thought to do himself. Why? Because lawyers are supposed to be clever.
[Q] Playboy: What do you think about the other lawyers on Simpson's defense team, namely Alan Dershowitz and F. Lee Bailey?
[A] Bugliosi: Dershowitz is a prominent appellate lawyer. He's not a trial lawyer. He's someone you go to after you've been convicted.
[Q] Playboy: Didn't he win the Claus von Bulow case?
[A] Bugliosi: No, though most people seem to be under the impression that he did. He handled the appeal and got a reversal of the conviction. Bailey is an experienced and savvy trial lawyer who has distinguished himself in many murder cases. But thus far he hasn't appeared in court, so I'm not sure what his role is going to be.
[Q] Playboy: Bailey's last big case was the Patty Hearst case 20 years ago, which he lost. Isn't that true?
[A] Bugliosi: Yes.
[Q] Playboy: We've heard that one reason Bailey lost was that he gave a poor final summation. But considering who Hearst is, before the trial we imagine it was said she had the best defense team money could buy?
[A] Bugliosi: That's an automatic.
[Q] Playboy: We understand Shapiro and Bailey are friends.
[A] Bugliosi: Yes. Bailey is a godfather to one of Shapiro's children, and they are also associated in the practice of law. They appear on each other's letterheads.
[Q] Playboy: Let's go back to whether Simpson can get a fair trial.
[A] Bugliosi: In every high-profile case, defense lawyers invariably make the same trite argument that their client can't get a fair trial because of all the publicity. But there are all types of examples in which juries came back with verdicts of not guilty in big-publicity cases, and they did so for one reason: The evidence wasn't there. For example, Von Bulow, Cullen Davis and William Kennedy Smith. I firmly believe that once jurors get into that courtroom and start to hear, day after day, the actual testimony of the witnesses, they ultimately base their verdict not on what they've heard out of court but on the evidence that comes from that witness stand under oath. I have confidence in the jury system. From my experience, I believe that by and large juries are conscientious and disciplined enough, and have sufficient maturity, to base their verdict exclusively on the evidence.
[Q] Playboy: It seems that both sides in the Simpson case have been attempting to try the case in the media with one leak after another. What's the point if it ultimately comes down to what the jury hears during the trial?
[A] Bugliosi: I'm not certain that both sides have leaked information. There's no indication that the prosecution has; certainly the defense has.
[Q] Playboy: What about the bloody glove, which we knew about before the preliminary hearing?
[A] Bugliosi: Those reports were said to have come from a police source. If we're to believe the media, they've never cited an unidentified "prosecution source" for a leak. As to why the defense would leak information, they obviously want to try to precondition the jury pool, and many of the things they've put out there won't even be admissible at the trial. For instance, the wild and unfounded charge that one of the LAPD officers planted the glove on Simpson's estate, and the bogus witness—who turned out to be a con man—who said he saw two white men running from the murder scene. A few days ago on CBS Morning News I pointed out that the defense's credibility in this case is starting to approach that of a Bourbon Street hawker, with their bizarre allegations, the 800 number, the bogus reward money and the rest.
[Q] Playboy: Bogus reward money?
[A] Bugliosi: Since Simpson knows no one else committed these murders, he could have offered his entire net worth and it would have been the most risk-free offer anyone ever made. Also, a serious offer of a reward would have been made the moment he returned from Chicago, not weeks later as a way to sway prospective jurors. In any event, the defense attorneys' conduct has been circus-like.
[Q] Playboy: Do you consider their behavior to be legally appropriate?
[A] Bugliosi: Up to a point. I mean, it's not as if the law tells them, "Come into court and lose like a man." If they can help alter the course of the trial by what they say and do outside of court, there's not too much anyone can do about it. But there are limits.
[Q] Playboy: Such as?
[A] Bugliosi: One canon of ethics of the American Bar Association provides that a "lawyer should represent a client zealously" but adds, "within the bounds of the law." Legal ethicists, in articles and reports, as well as case law, have engrafted upon this canon the admonition that a lawyer should not engage in a line of conduct that is "immoral, unfair or of doubtful legality."
[Q] Playboy: Has that happened here?
[A] Bugliosi: It's hard to say for sure whether the defense has trespassed beyond permissible boundaries. I'd say their suggestion that one of the LAPD officers planted the glove on the Simpson estate is flirting rather heavily with impropriety. Assuming they have no evidence to support this charge, it is a very serious and highly improper allegation.
[Q] Playboy: Might they have the evidence?
[A] Bugliosi: I haven't heard of any, and it sounds preposterous on its face. Not only is planting evidence very uncommon, but apparently 14 officers from the LAPD had arrived at the murder scene before the subject officer did, and none saw a second glove. That this officer did and was able to seize it in front of his colleagues and drop it off at the Simpson estate stretches credulity. And for what reason? I can give you a strong reason why he wouldn't plant evidence and then testify falsely about it: Under section 128 of the California Penal Code, in some circumstances it could result in the death penalty.
With respect to the defense's conduct in this case, it has always bothered me the way prosecutors are viewed next to defense attorneys in our society, and it's mostly because of television, movies and novels. For far too many years the stereotype of the prosecutor has been either that of a right-wing, law-and-order type intent on winning convictions at any cost, or a stumbling, bumbling Hamilton Burger, forever trying innocent people who are saved at the last minute by the foxy maneuverings of a Perry Mason fighting for justice. But this is pure moonshine. It doesn't accord with reality. Ninety-five times out of 100 the defendant is not innocent, and the prosecutor is the one on the white horse fighting for justice.
[Q] Playboy: How would you assess the defense's performance in court thus far in the Simpson case?
[A] Bugliosi: It's been pretty bad. I'd give it no more than a C-minus. Let's take the preliminary hearing. The defense kept asking for a prelim instead of a grand jury so it could cross-examine the prosecution witnesses, which it couldn't do with a grand jury. But at the prelim, not only was the defense's cross-examination superficial, but with key witnesses such as Brian "Kato" Kaelin and his girlfriend, it was nonexistent. Not one question for either one of them. Unbelievable. One of the principal advantages of a prelim for the defense is to nail the prosecution witnesses down in their testimony so that if it differs at the trial in any way, their prior testimony can be used for impeachment purposes. The more statements you can get from a witness, the better, since even a truthful witness rarely tells a story the same way twice. Along that line, the defense had tape-recorded a telephone conversation with Kaelin. When the prosecution asked for it, the defense reflexively turned it over. But they didn't have to. Under Proposition 115 here in California, the defense has to turn over statements of only their own witnesses. But Kaelin is a prosecution witness, and the cases have held that statements the defense gets from a prosecution witness do not have to be furnished to the prosecution. So instead of possibly being caught by surprise at the trial, the prosecution has all the time it needs to reconcile any discrepancies between Kaelin's trial testimony and his earlier statement. Because of the defense's inexperience, the prosecution has literally been taking advantage of the defense in court.
[Q] Playboy: What you're saying is rather remarkable. No one has been talking about these things. Has the defense made other mistakes?
[A] Bugliosi: By far the most important document the defense team has filed in this case up to now is the motion to suppress evidence found at the Simpson estate, such as blood droplets and the glove. Yet its June 29, 1994 memorandum of legal points and authorities in support of this motion, which should have been 50 or 60 pages because of its extreme importance, was an incredible five pages, and routine and boilerplate at that. The prosecution's response was 25 pages. I'm not measuring quality by the number of pages, but the prosecution brief was better researched and more innovative. The defense brief was apparently drafted by an assistant in Shapiro's law office.
[Q] Playboy: Did the defense gain anything at all from the preliminary hearing?
[A] Bugliosi: That's another point. If, in fact, the defense's trump card is the public's affection and favorable feelings for Simpson, the televised preliminary hearing could only have had an injurious and diminishing effect on that supposed advantage. Instead of going into the trial with that positive image intact, as would have been the situation if the case had stayed with the grand jury, whose proceedings are secret, the public has now been exposed to an opposite image of Simpson—seeing him as a criminal defendant, hearing testimony of his blood being found at the murder scene, hearing the judge tell him she feels there is sufficient evidence to believe that he committed the murders. These jolting and countervailing images will now have weeks to seep into the consciousness of people and harden into a new, more negative image of him. If the defense gained something from this preliminary hearing, I'd like to know what it is.
[Q] Playboy: Surely you must have something positive to say about the defense effort so far.
[A] Bugliosi: Actually I do. Well, I should say I think I do. As you know, for weeks the defense team has been on its hind legs virtually begging for the opportunity to conduct their own independent testing of the blood samples. But I'm not sure that this hasn't been a charade on their part. The defense may actually be hoping the judge will turn them down so they can use his denial as a basis for appeal if Simpson is convicted.
I say that because thus far, all of the evidence—I'm referring to the conventional serological testing by the LAPD as well as the preliminary DNA tests—shows that the blood droplets leading away from the murder scene belong to Simpson. There's no reason to believe the final DNA tests won't confirm this.
[Q] Playboy: So?
[A] Bugliosi: If the defense's independent testing of the blood shows the same thing, as it almost assuredly will, the defense will have two options—apart from an assertion no one would believe, that he left the blood there at some earlier time, perhaps cutting himself while playing with his children—both of which would be about as pleasant for them as staring into the noonday sun: Number one, admit that the prosecution is right, that Simpson's blood was found at the murder scene, which the defense certainly would never want to do, or, number two, refuse to disclose the results of their own tests, which would look even worse. Since the defense team has to know this, I'm not sure this hasn't all been an act, and if it has, I think they've been good at it. But I'll tell you, if I were on defense in this case, I'd stay away from that blood the way the devil stays away from holy water.
[Q] Playboy: How do you feel about the two prosecutors in this case, Marcia Clark and William Hodgman?
[A] Bugliosi: I'm impressed with both of them. They both have much more experience in criminal homicide cases than the defense lawyers do. It's obvious they are doing their homework.
[Q] Playboy: Had you heard of either before this case?
[A] Bugliosi: I hadn't heard of Clark, but I knew of Hodgman. Two years ago I was the guest speaker at the annual convention of the California District Attorneys' Association in Palm Springs. Afterward, I autographed some of my books. About a half year later, Hodgman called me and said I had signed a copy of my last true-crime book, And the Sea Will Tell, for him, and then said that for the past several years he's been loaning his copy of Till Death Us Do Part to all new prosecutors in his section.
[Q] Playboy: Did he tell you why?
[A] Bugliosi: Yes, but I'd rather not get into it because even though they were his words, my repeating them would sound boastful. In any event, I sent him a new copy to replace his well-worn one and he sent me a nice letter.
[Q] Playboy: Do you have the letter?
[A][Bugliosi leaves the room and returns in a few minutes with the July 19, 1993 letter from Hodgman, in which Hodgman refers to the "significant influence" Bugliosi has had on his career, and how he uses in his cases "trial and argument techniques" Bugliosi set forth in "Till Death."]
[Q] Playboy: How do you feel about the D.A. himself, Gil Garcetti?
[A] Bugliosi: He may have said a few things early on that he wishes he hadn't said, but overall, I think Garcetti and his people have conducted themselves in a professional manner and are only interested in justice in this case.
[Q] Playboy: You've found considerable fault with the defense in this case. Has the prosecution done anything wrong?
[A] Bugliosi: Actually, the prosecution may have made the biggest error by far in this case—dwarfing anything the defense has done. I have no doubt that the D.A. and his staff are not prejudiced or antiblack in any way. However, because Simpson is black and every survey shows that blacks are overwhelmingly sympathetic to him, it's common knowledge the D.A.'s office fears that blacks may hang up the jury—though the office can't acknowledge this. If this fear—that the sympathy blacks have for Simpson at this point may override the evidence at the trial—is justified, and I'm not at all sure it is, the D.A.'s office is responsible for its own problem.
[Q] Playboy: How? In what way?
[A] Bugliosi: Well, these murders happened in Brentwood. It's the practice in Los Angeles County to file a case in the superior court of the judicial district where the crime occurred, in this case, Santa Monica, which is where the Menendez case was filed. In Santa Monica, there would have been a small percentage of blacks in the jury pool. Instead, the D.A. filed the case downtown, where the percentage of blacks in the jury pool will be much higher, thereby—assuming the D.A.'s fears are correct—multiplying the likelihood of a hung jury. If the D.A. tried to transfer the case out of downtown now, there would be an enormous hue and cry that he was prejudiced against blacks. But if he had filed the case where it should have been filed, and where he had every right to file it, who could have complained?
[Q] Playboy: Has the D.A.'s office given any reasons for filing the case downtown?
[A] Bugliosi: Yes, but they are all weightless. A member of the D.A.'s press office said the reason was that the special trials section handling the case is located downtown. In other words, we'd rather have a hung jury than have our two prosecutors drive an extra 15 miles each morning. The D.A.'s office has also mentioned that the downtown court is set up to handle protracted cases and to accommodate the media better than is the Santa Monica court. But there's absolutely nothing prohibiting the Santa Monica court from hearing this case. Whatever arrangements that would be necessary to allow this could easily have been made. I think what happened here is that when the D.A.'s office filed the case downtown they simply weren't thinking of the ramifications of their decision.
[Q] Playboy: Let's get back to the courtroom. We take it that so far you feel the prosecution has out-lawyered the defense?
[A] Bugliosi: Yes, clearly. But because of the nature of the case, when we get to the trial there is going to be more parity with respect to a big part of the case, the DNA evidence. DNA blood testing is one of the most complex sciences, where molecular biology, genetics and statistics converge in rather confusing ways. It's a relatively new field, and Shapiro has hired lawyers who are experienced and knowledgeable about the discipline to handle this part of the trial for the defense. But I'll guarantee you this: If the outcome of the trial ends up being favorable to the defense—such as a hung jury—the result will have nothing to do with anything special the principal lawyers for the defense did. And the favorable result for them will have to be traceable to dynamics other than Simpson's innocence, since he's quite obviously guilty.
[Q] Playboy: You say that Simpson is guilty. Isn't there a presumption of innocence in our society?
[A] Bugliosi: Yes, but it applies only inside a courtroom. It has no applicability elsewhere, such as in our discussion here. And even in court there's a problem.
[Q] Playboy: In what possible way?
[A] Bugliosi: The presumption of innocence is a hallowed doctrine that separates us from totalitarian regimes. It's the foundation for the rule that is the bedrock of our system of justice—that a defendant can be convicted of a crime only if his guilt has been proved beyond a reasonable doubt. It's one thing for the judge to tell the jury that the prosecution has the burden of proof, and the defendant no burden to prove his innocence. And in the absence of affirmative proof of guilt, the defendant is entitled to a notguilty verdict, even if he presents no evidence of his innocence. But when the judge intones, with a sober countenance, that the defendant is "presumed to be innocent," the jury knows this has to be a legal fiction. I mean, the defendant is brought into court in handcuffs or with a deputy sheriff at his side, and the judge tells the jury he is presumed to be innocent. One of these days a defendant is going to stand up in court and ask the judge, "Your Honor, if I am legally presumed to be innocent, why have I been arrested for this crime, why has a criminal complaint been filed against me, and why am I now here in court being tried?"
[Q] Playboy: Getting back to Simpson, how can you be so sure he is guilty?
[A] Bugliosi: In all my years in criminal law, other than cases in which the killer has been apprehended during the perpetration of the homicide, I've never seen such an obvious case of guilt. In fact, if I were a defense attorney, I'd rather have a case in which there were ten eyewitnesses against my client than this type of case.
[Q] Playboy: Why?
[A] Bugliosi: Because with ten eyewitnesses, though it's an extremely strong case for the prosecution, at least the defense can make an argument without sounding absurd in the process. For instance, in a case like this, the murders happened at night, so the visibility wasn't that good. And you know each witness would have given a slightly different description of the killer to the police. One would have said he was 45 years of age, 195 pounds and 6'1". Another that he was 40 years of age, 225 pounds and 5'11", and so forth. So at least a defense attorney could argue that because of the discrepancies in the physical description, there's a reasonable doubt of guilt. He wouldn't get anywhere with his argument if every witness, despite the different descriptions, identified his client in court as the perpetrator. But at least he wouldn't sound silly making his argument.
[Q] Playboy: But no sensible argument of innocence or reasonable doubt can be made here?
[A] Bugliosi: Not one. Even if we disregard the many things Simpson said and did that point irresistibly to his guilt—for instance, saying he was asleep inside his home waiting for the limo driver, when the testimony from the limo driver clearly shows he was not—there is no question of his guilt. In fact, even if the DNA tests don't put Simpson's blood at the murder scene—which they are expected to do—or either of the victims' blood inside his car or home, there still is no question of his guilt.
[Q] Playboy: How is that?
[A] Bugliosi: Within minutes of the murder of his former wife and her friend, Simpson's car and home were full of blood. In addition to the blood spots found on the exterior of his Bronco—just above the driver's door handle and near the bottom of the door—the return on the search warrant shows blood on the steering wheel, driver's seat, instrument panel, center console and several other places inside the car. Also, blood was found on the driveway leading up to the front door of his house, in the foyer, master bedroom, master bathroom and several other places. I mean, come on. There was a fresh trail of blood leading from the murder scene to his car and home. There is no explanation for this blood all over his car and home right after these murders other than his guilt.
[Q] Playboy: What about the speculation that he was framed?
[A] Bugliosi: Right. The framers came up to Simpson and said, "O.J., we're going to frame you, but we've got a little problem. We need some of your blood. Can you help us out?" And O.J. of course complied. Do you see what I mean when I say any argument that tries to explain the blood in his car and home makes the arguer sound silly?
[Q] Playboy: What if all the blood came from the cut on his hand, and if he got cut in an innocent way that night?
[A] Bugliosi: When Simpson was grilled by the LAPD—which from the standpoint of the defense, as I've indicated, should never have taken place—he told them he didn't know how he got the cut that night. That ridiculous statement alone, and all by itself, shows an obvious consciousness of guilt. But let's address your question about the possibility of Simpson's having cut himself in some other way. What is the likelihood that around the very same time his former wife and her male companion were brutally murdered, he innocently cut himself very badly on his left middle finger? One out of a million? One out of a hundred thousand? And even if we make that exceedingly extravagant assumption, has it ever happened to you, or to any adult you know or have heard of, that you cut your finger and the blood gets all over your car and home? Again, don't you see how silly it sounds to even make this argument? When you cut yourself, unless you're in a frantic, frenzied state—which Simpson obviously was in—you stop the flow of blood with your hand or handkerchief and you put on a bandage. You don't bleed all over the place.
[Q] Playboy: You said there was blood all over Simpson's car and home. Whose blood?
[A] Bugliosi: Well, the DNA test results haven't come back yet, but conventional blood tests indicate that much of it is Simpson's. Obviously the blood in the car is either Simpson's, or the victims', or both his and the victims'. The point is, he can't be innocent if any of these three situations exists. That is, not in the world in which we live. You know—I'm talking and you can hear me. There will be a dawn tomorrow. That kind of world. Let me tell you something. The guilt in this case is so obvious that if it weren't for attendant factors like celebrity, race, allegations of police misconduct and so forth, it would be almost embarrassing to try as a prosecutor. It's the type of case you have to try because the defendant has pleaded not guilty. But like a professional fighter going into the ring, as a prosecutor you like to feel you're facing some competition. Here, the competition has to be specious.
[Q] Playboy: But it frequently has been pointed out that the evidence against Simpson is circumstantial.
[A] Bugliosi: Yes, but the way you say that implies that this is an infirmity. Circumstantial evidence has erroneously come to be associated in the lay mind and vernacular with an anemic case. But nothing could be further from the truth. It depends on what type of circumstantial evidence you're talking about. In a case like this, where the prosecution will be presenting physical, scientific evidence connecting Simpson to the crime, it couldn't be stronger. The true circumstantial-evidence case, and the only type that is difficult to try, is one in which there not only are no eyewitnesses—only eyewitness testimony, which is notoriously problematic, is direct evidence—there are no bullet, blood, hair, semen or skin matchups; in fact, no physical evidence of any kind whatsoever, such as clothing or glasses, connecting the defendant to the crime. That's the classic textbook type of circumstantial-evidence case in which you have to put one speck of evidence—an inappropriate remark, a suspicious bank transaction, a subtle effort to deflect the investigation, things like that—upon another speck until ultimately there is a strong mosaic of guilt. That is a true circumstantial-evidence case, not the type of case we have here where Simpson might just as well go around with a large sign on his back declaring in bold letters that he murdered these two poor people. This case is circumstantial in name only.
[Q] Playboy: So you see no chance of anyone else having committed these murders?
[A] Bugliosi: Since Simpson did, by definition that rules out anyone else. You know, quite apart from the fact that the physical evidence conclusively shows he committed these murders, I assume the D.A. is going to be able to stitch together a set of circumstances from which the inference can be drawn that only Simpson would have had any motive to do so, particularly in the savage and brutal way they were committed. Also, let's not forget that whoever committed these murders had to have been fast and powerful, which of course Simpson is, though I'm sure that the defense will come up with some theory of Simpson's physical incapacity to commit the murders.
[Q] Playboy: You rule out the possibility that O.J. didn't commit these murders. But what if someone else was involved with him? Didn't the coroner say that two knives were probably used? And how could O.J. kill these two people without the one he wasn't stabbing at the time screaming or running away? No screams were heard, and the two victims were found close together.
[A] Bugliosi: You're presupposing that the two murders were contemporaneous. We don't know that. All we can know is that Simpson killed these people, not the sequence. He may have killed Nicole first, and her friend Ronald Goldman appeared on the scene a few seconds later and was killed by Simpson to eliminate a witness. The deputy medical examiner did not say that two knives were probably used. He testified at the prelim that most of the wounds were caused by a single-edge blade, and some of the wounds could have been caused by a knife with a single-edge or double-edge blade. That deputy, by the way, was not an impressive witness. But you've raised a valid point. I'm sure only of Simpson's guilt. I'm 99 percent sure that no one else was involved in any way whatsoever—such as waiting in the car for him—in these murders.
[Q] Playboy: What do you say to the argument that it makes no difference what the evidence is, Simpson is so popular that no jury will ever convict him, that he'll walk?
[A] Bugliosi: When I hear that argument, I wonder what its logical genesis is. What evidence or precedent is there that a jury won't convict someone who is popular? In fact, the empirical evidence is decidedly the other way. Although no person as nationally known and popular as Simpson has ever been charged with murder—in the Twenties, Fatty Arbuckle was charged with manslaughter—there are countless examples of very popular defendants, including athletes, at a city or state level being convicted and having their careers ruined, and these were cases in which the jury had to forgive or overlook far, far less than in this case, where there's a double murder. Irrespective of who O.J. Simpson is, the resolution of this case will still come down to the same question: Does the prosecution have enough evidence to prove guilt beyond a reasonable doubt? If they do, and if they present this evidence properly—by that, I mean in a forceful and compelling way, if necessary by putting bibs on the jurors and spoonfeeding them—there will be no notguilty verdict. Simpson will not walk out of court.
[Q] Playboy: Is there a strong likelihood of a hung jury?
[A] Bugliosi: I don't think there's a likelihood, but there certainly is a possibility in this case that some juror might be vapid and immature enough—and bold enough—to violate his or her oath and deliberately defy and ignore the evidence and instructions given by the court and vote not guilty. Then, it's a hung jury.
[Q] Playboy: What do you make of the polls showing that so many people believe Simpson is innocent? Or think the case is a real mystery?
[A] Bugliosi: It's remarkable. For the most part they are essentially people who take the untenable position that the failure to prove everything—"They haven't found the murder weapon," "If he's guilty, where is his bloody clothing?"—negates all that has been proved. The media is partly responsible for this irrationality on the part of the man on the street. More than one major newspaper has actually referred to this case as a "classic whodunit." And last week, a writer for a national paper called the case "one of the biggest murder mysteries of our time." The real mystery is how people with IQs no higher than room temperature can write for major publications. Actually, it's not IQ. It's a lack of common sense. One thing I've seen over and over again in life is that there is virtually no correlation between intelligence and common sense. IQ doesn't seem to translate that way.
[Q] Playboy: One senses you don't feel that in general people are very perceptive.
[A] Bugliosi: Put it this way: The much greater part of mankind only hears the music, not the lyrics, of human events. Lincoln said, "You can fool all of the people some of the time, and some of the people all of the time, but you can't fool all of the people all of the time." There should be an addendum to that: "You can fool most of the people most of the time." There are so many examples of this.
[Q] Playboy: If people are so stupid, why do you have so much faith in juries—which are, of course, these same people?
[A] Bugliosi: That's an excellent question. An English barrister once characterized a jury as "12 people of average ignorance," but I look at juries as representing upwards of 500 years of human experience. When you look at juries in that light, together with the concomitant reality that the knowledge of one juror is the knowledge of all 12—that is, if one juror, because of experience or insight, sees something in the evidence the other 11 do not, as soon as he or she brings this fact, observation or inference to the attention of the other jurors, the entire jury profits from the perception—it is easy to see why a jury normally reaches a verdict called for by the evidence.
There's another reason why juries usually reach proper verdicts, and that's the strong sense of civic duty that jurors bring to the job. It's as if they rise to the occasion.
[Q] Playboy: So you're critical of lawyers, but you believe that jurors are doing their jobs. How about judges?
[A] Bugliosi: What do you get when you combine a lawyer with a politician?
[Q] Playboy: What?
[A] Bugliosi: A judge. That is the real paradox about judges. Public opinion polls show that people have a very negative view of politicians and an equally negative view of lawyers. Since judges are usually both politicians and lawyers, it would seem that people would have an opinion of them lower than a grasshopper's belly. But on the contrary, the mere investiture of a $25 black cotton robe elevates the denigrated lawyer-politician to a position of considerable honor and respect in our society.
[Q] Playboy: Why is that?
[A] Bugliosi: It's the same phenomenon we talked about earlier concerning lawyers on big cases. The unthinking assumption is made that if you're a judge, you must deserve to be a judge.
[Q] Playboy: All judges have to be lawyers?
[A] Bugliosi: Yes, with the ironic exception of justices of the U.S. Supreme Court. No nonlawyer, however, has ever sat on the Supreme Court. With respect to the political aspect of being a judge, the appointment of judgeships by governors—or by the president in the federal courts—has always been part of the political spoils or patronage system. For example, 94 percent of President Reagan's appointments to the federal bench were Republicans. In the vast majority of cases there is an umbilical cord between the appointment and politics. Either the appointee has labored long in the political vineyards, or he or she is a favored friend of someone who has, often a generous financial supporter of the party in power.
[Q] Playboy: Does this tend to make for mediocrity on the bench?
[A] Bugliosi: A political connection doesn't necessarily mean that the judge is not otherwise competent and qualified. Many times he or she is. But for the most part the bench boasts undistinguished lawyers whose principal qualification for the most important position in our legal system is the political connection. Rarely, for instance, will a governor seek out a renowned but apolitical legal scholar, such as a highly regarded law school professor, and proffer a judgeship. It has been my experience and, I believe, the experience of most veteran trial lawyers, that the typical judge has no, or scant, trial experience as a lawyer, or is pompous and dictatorial on the bench, or is clearly partial to one side or the other in a lawsuit. Sometimes the judge displays all three infirmities.
[Q] Playboy: The Simpson trial is going to be televised. How do you feel about this?
[A] Bugliosi: I'm opposed to cameras in the courtroom.
[Q] Playboy: Why?
[A] Bugliosi: One of the things that bothers me so much about the Simpson case is that even though two precious human beings were brutally murdered, cut down in the springtime of their lives, I sense a faintly festive atmosphere surrounding the case. The massive TV coverage has contributed to this tawdry atmosphere. It cheapens and devalues the whole process. But there are much more substantive reasons why I oppose cameras in the courtroom.
A trial is a serious and solemn proceeding that determines whether or not a person's liberty, and sometimes his life, should be taken away from him. Anything that interferes, or even has the slightest potential of interfering, with the resolution of this determination should be automatically prohibited. Most people are intensely self-conscious about speaking in public, even before a small audience. With cameras in the courtroom, sometimes millions of people are watching. Even if we make the assumption that most witnesses will not be affected, certainly, at least here and there, some are not going to be as natural. Either they are going to be more shy and hesitant, or perhaps they will put on an act, not just in their demeanor but much worse, in the words they use in their testimony. When this happens, the fact-finding process and the very purpose of a trial have been compromised.
Witnesses aren't the only ones affected. The Los Angeles Daily News reported recently that as a result of a murder trial then being televised on Court TV, "the defense attorney bought two new suits, and [the judge's] wife makes sure his hair is properly gelled before he leaves for work in the morning. The court clerk makes an effort to keep her pen out of her mouth." Is it a non sequitur to suggest that if people alter their physical appearance because of the camera, they may alter their words?
[Q] Playboy: What about the argument frequently used by the media—that televising trials educates the public?
[A] Bugliosi: Transparent sophistry. Their only motivation, though not an improper one, is commercial. And though televising trials may indeed educate the public, that obviously is not the principal reason why people watch trials such as the Menendez and Simpson cases on television. It's a form of entertainment for them, pure and simple. Even given the ancillary benefit of being educational, the sole purpose of a criminal trial is to determine whether or not the defendant is guilty of the crime. It is not to educate the public.
[Q] Playboy: Isn't all of this immaterial? The media now have a right to televise trials in California, correct?
[A] Bugliosi: No, that's wrong. Many people erroneously believe this, including, it appears, the judge in the Simpson case. At a hearing a few weeks ago, Judge Lance Ito said he questioned "the wisdom of rules that allow cameras and recording devices in courtrooms." From this I take it he is unaware that under the express language of rule 980 of the California Rules of Court, he has the discretion to deny the media request for cameras in the courtroom.
[Q] Playboy: Based on everything you said earlier, we take it you would not represent O.J. Simpson if he asked you.
[A] Bugliosi: No, of course not. He's as guilty as sin. But I wouldn't even enter the minds of Simpson and the people around him. My image is still that of a prosecutor. When people get in trouble with the law, I'm one of the last people they think of.
[Q] Playboy: Have any really big murder defendants ever come to you?
[A] Bugliosi: Only two, and I turned down both of them because it was clear they were guilty: Dr. Jeffrey MacDonald, the former Green Beret who was eventually convicted of murdering his wife and his two children, and Dan White, who murdered San Francisco mayor George Moscone and supervisor Harvey Milk. But I'd like nothing more than to get on some complex murder cases, as long as I believe my client is innocent, or there are substantially mitigating circumstances. Incidentally, by mitigating circumstances I don't mean the question said to be asked about the victim by hard-bitten sheriffs in rural Texas at the start of any homicide investigation: "Did he need killing?"
[Q] Playboy: We find it disturbing that as a lawyer you won't represent someone charged with murder or any violent crime unless you believe them to be innocent or there are mitigating circumstances. Isn't everyone, regardless of guilt or innocence, entitled to be represented by an attorney?
[A] Bugliosi: Of course. But there's nothing in the canons of ethics of the American Bar Association that says a lawyer has to represent everyone who comes to his or her door. You know, the concept that everyone is entitled to be represented by a lawyer is an idealistic chant often recited by defense attorneys as justification for representing even the most vicious criminals. The concept is unassailable, but idealism is rarely what motivates lawyers who represent guilty defendants. They take the work because trying cases is their livelihood, and they also want to advance their careers. These motivations are perfectly proper, but they have nothing to do with idealism.
I want to add that I'd represent a defendant, even one I believed to be guilty of murder, if I were the only lawyer available, because the right to counsel is a sacred right in our society and much more important than any personal predilection of mine. But this type of situation doesn't exist in a county such as Los Angeles, where almost 40,000 lawyers stumble over one another for cases. So I am free to follow my inclinations.
[Q] Playboy: Before we move on to a few final matters, you will of course always be associated in the public mind with the Manson case, which, before the Simpson case, probably received more publicity than any other murder case in American history. How do you compare the two cases in terms of publicity?
[A] Bugliosi: In the U.S. the Simpson case has received more publicity than the Manson case. If the Manson trial had been televised, it would have been even bigger than it was, though it still wouldn't have been as big as the Simpson case. No case has ever received this coverage. But internationally the Manson case was bigger. An AP reporter who covered both cases was pointing this out recently. Internationally, they really do not know who Simpson is. Besides the Manson case being the most bizarre mass-murder case in the recorded annals of crime, Roman Polanski [husband of slain actress Sharon Tate] is big in Europe. Also, one of the victims, Voytek Frykowski [jet-set boyfriend of Abigail Folger, the coffee heiress who was also murdered], was from Poland. Reporters from all over the world covered the trial.
[Q] Playboy: Do you think the Simpson case will continue to be big years from now?
[A] Bugliosi: It will always be a famous case, but I don't foresee any substantial continuing interest in it—interest is the word I want to emphasize—after a relatively short period. I don't think it will have much durability or, as they say in the entertainment industry, legs. Twenty years from now, fifteen, ten, even five years from now, after you say this football legend killed his former wife and her male companion, where do you go from there? Substitute a mechanic for Simpson and you'll see what I mean.
[Q] Playboy: What's behind some of the recent verdicts in cases where it seemed that guilt was certain—the Menendez brothers, Lorena Bobbitt, Damian Williams—yet the defendants walked or the juries hung? Have jurors taken leave of their senses? It seems that anything today in America, even murder, can be excused if you just claim you were abused. Juries will buy it, like in the Bobbitt and Menendez cases.
[A] Bugliosi: Well, it's not quite that easy. You're talking about the so-called "abuse is an excuse" defense. Obviously, there is no such defense. However, abuse can be of such a severe nature that it gives rise to a recognized legal defense, such as irresistible impulse, which was the defense in the Bobbitt case. Irresistible impulse is a species of insanity. Under the basic law of insanity, you are deemed to be insane only if, because of a defect of reason caused by a diseased mind, you did not know that what you did was wrong. In irresistible impulse, the person does know the wrongfulness of his act, but is unable to control the impulse to commit it. Most states don't have this defense, but in Virginia, where the Bobbitt case was tried, it's a legitimate defense. As far as the Menendez case is concerned, it hasn't been resolved yet. In the first trial, the jurors were hung up on whether it was first- or second-degree murder or voluntary manslaughter, not whether the defendants should go free.
[Q] Playboy: How did this "abuse is an excuse" concept come into play?
[A] Bugliosi: It's just a new, catchy phrase for an old concept that's been around for years. But it's been given increased prominence because of the supposed "Oprahization of the jury" syndrome.
[Q] Playboy: What's that?
[A] Bugliosi: Through shows like Oprah, Donahue and Geraldo, Americans are exposed to endless numbers of people who are the victims of abuse from dysfunctional families and relationships. A subliminal empathy develops for these purported victims when they thereafter engage in antisocial behavior against their alleged abusers. That's the theory. But, as it is said in Ecclesiastes, there's nothing new under the sun. Juries have always given a break, where they legally can, to victims of abuse as well as to people suffering from mental disorders. Any trial lawyer will tell you this. There's nothing different about, or wrong with, today's juries. Way back in 1835, when Americans were supposedly as hard as nails, a jury found Richard Lawrence, a housepainter, not guilty by reason of insanity for attempting to assassinate President Andrew Jackson. Likewise with the attempt on President Reagan's life by John Hinckley in 1981.
[Q] Playboy: So you don't think juries are softer on criminal defendants today?
[A] Bugliosi: No, I don't. Why would they be? Americans are more concerned and conservative about crime today than they've been in many years. It makes absolutely no sense that when they walk into that courtroom they leave their concern and conservatism at the courtroom door. I just think it's been a quirky coincidence that recent high-visibility cases have resulted in seemingly unsatisfactory verdicts. The reality is that some of these cases have turned on subtle legal issues that laypeople don't understand.
[Q] Playboy: What happened with Damien Williams, who was charged with attempted murder and other crimes during the Los Angeles riots?
[A] Bugliosi: When the jury found him not guilty of premeditated attempted murder, people were outraged. The erroneous impression was that he had "gotten off." Even several syndicated columnists, who should have known better, made this assertion. But Williams did not get off. He was convicted of mayhem and sentenced to ten years in prison, a not insubstantial term.
[Q] Playboy: Why wasn't he convicted of attempted murder?
[A] Bugliosi: The law of attempted murder requires a specific intent to kill. Firing a bullet at someone's head clearly shows such intent. But throwing a brick at someone's head does not necessarily show, beyond a reasonable doubt and to a moral certainty, that you specifically intended to kill that person. The argument could be made that if Williams had intended to kill Reginald Denny—as opposed to merely intending to cause great bodily harm, or not caring whether he killed him or not, neither of which states of mind would satisfy the specific intent-to-kill requirement of attempted murder—instead of dancing around after throwing the brick, he would have followed it up to make sure he got the job done. The crimes actually committed in the Williams case were mayhem, assault with a deadly weapon and assault by means of force likely to produce great bodily harm. If Williams had the requisite intent to kill, there may indeed have also been an attempted murder, but it isn't clear from the evidence and circumstances whether or not he did. The attempted murder charge was a typical overfiling by the D.A. in the hope of inducing a plea of guilty to a lesser charge. The defense called the D.A.'s bluff and got a not-guilty verdict. But there was a proper verdict of guilty in that case, despite the popular perception there was not.
[Q] Playboy: One final question, counselor—and it's from left field: How does someone of your analytical ability view God?
[A] Bugliosi: If we were in court I'd object on the ground that the question assumes a fact not in evidence.
[Q] Playboy: So you don't believe in God?
[A] Bugliosi: I'm not in a position to believe or disbelieve in him. You know, the atheists, who not only believe but know there is no God, are just as silly as those who seem to have no doubt that there is. Over the centuries, thousands of tomes and trillions of words have been written on the subject, yet neither side can come up with one single fact to support its position. But in this realm, where people's minds have been on permanent sabbatical, that fact is apparently immaterial.
[Q] Playboy: Are we getting into metaphysics if we ask you what a fact is?
[A] Bugliosi: I don't think so. By fact I mean a truth known by actual experience or observation. And something that cannot be logically explained in any other way.
[Q] Playboy: So what's your bottom line?
[A] Bugliosi: I like Clarence Darrow's observation about the existence vis-à-vis non-existence of God: I do not pretend to know, where many ignorant men are sure.
"The media said Mike Tyson had the best defense money could buy. You know where Mike is today."
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