Murder in Brentwood (8 page)

The gum was booked as evidence, but was never used in court. The defense never mentioned the gum, maybe because they suspected whose it was.

Focusing on detail is what being a detective is all about. All evidence is important, and you shouldn’t judge it until you’ve collected and analyzed it. At the very least, you may then know conclusively that the evidence will not help you. You may walk down a few dead ends, but at least you know where those roads go. You have to follow up on every possible clue until you are certain you have learned everything you can from existing evidence. Very seldom do you find a smoking gun, or even a bloody fingerprint. Most murders are solved because of the little details, many of which were passed over in the Simpson case by the investigating detectives from Robbery/Homicide.

I would like to make clear that the last thing I want to do is tear down or discredit the work done by the LAPD in this case. The dilemma I have is that the department and the district attorney’s office ignored these obvious errors and forced me to take the blame for the failure of this case. Below I have listed what I believe to be the most prominent mistakes made by Lange and Vannatter.

1.
   
The bloody fingerprint was never recovered.

2.
   
Lange never made a thorough inspection of the walkway gate at Bundy.

3.
   
My return to the Bundy scene to compare the glove there with the one found at Rockingham was unnecessary.

4.
   
Vannatter s search warrant was brief, and lacked sufficient detailed information about the investigation, opening up our legal search at Rockingham to legal challenge.

5.
   
The Bronco was not impounded early on and taken to Parker Center. Instead the exterior and interior were needlessly contaminated.

6.
   
Lange had a blanket from inside the townhouse placed over Nicole’s body, furthering the defense’s claim of crime scene contamination.

7.
   
Vannatter carried a vial of Simpson’s blood sample to the Rockingham scene instead of booking it as evidence.

8.
   
Lange ordered Dennis Fung to test and recover blood on the back gate on June 13, but did not confirm that Fung had done so. As a result, the blood was not recovered until weeks later.

By the time we returned with the second search warrant on June 28, much of the potential evidence had been destroyed or removed. The Rockingham house had been cleaned and the carpets shampooed. Any visible blood evidence we hadn’t retrieved the first time had been cleaned up.

Even though the premises had obviously been cleaned, we still could have found more blood evidence, or at least indications of such evidence, that would have gone a long way toward giving us an idea of Simpson’s movements in the house the night of the murders. Luminol, a clear liquid, reacts to traces of blood that are not visible to the naked eye. If you spray Luminol on a surface and then black out the room or outside area (Luminol requires a complete absence of light), almost immediately the blood traces will show up as a fluorescent greenish-white glow.

Many of the questions which plagued the investigation and prosecution might have been answered had Luminol been used throughout the house. We possibly could have established Simpson’s movements through the house on the night of the murders.

I am aware that Judge Ito established some major barricades against Luminol’s use. But this only affected using the results in the courtroom. The aid Luminol would have provided was not as courtroom evidence but to the investigators in establishing many of Simpson’s movements in the Rockingham estate. These procedures might have led to a better understanding of where evidence might be that could have been used in court. It’s easy to second-guess any investigation, but this is not just hindsight. My suggestions were repeatedly ignored or dismissed by the RHD detectives.

Everyone makes mistakes, but the mistakes made by the investigating detectives seriously undermined what should have been an easy case. They contaminated evidence and mishandled the crime scenes themselves. In addition, their supervisory lapses allowed further mistakes. These were not just instances of inevitable human error, but serious blunders that any experienced detective should have avoided.

Even without important pieces of evidence, Vannatter and Lange had still seen enough to consider O.J. Simpson their prime suspect. But for some reason, they didn’t treat him like one.

Chapter 5

THE INTERROGATION

LANGE:
  
“There’s blood at your house... Is that your blood...?”

SIMPSON: “If it’s dripped, it’s what I dripped running around trying to leave. That was last night when I was... I don’t know what I was... I was getting my junk out of the car. I was throwing hangers and stuff in my suitcase. I was doing my little crazy what I do... I mean, I do it everywhere.

ON JUNE 13, 1994, at 1:35 P.M., Detectives Lange and Vannatter were given the opportunity of a lifetime. During the investigation of a brutal double homicide, they were allowed to interrogate the only suspect, without his attorney present, and with a properly read constitutional advisement and waiver.

The suspect, Orenthal James Simpson, had an ego so large that he gambled his life on his ability to withstand the questions of two seasoned homicide detectives. What Simpson couldn’t have known was that these two detectives would treat him more deferentially than any normal suspect, and as a result undermine their own interrogation. He would walk out of the interview room having learned more about the evidence against him than they, had learned about his actions and movements the night of the murders.

The entire transcript of the interrogation is reprinted in Appendix A. To the layman, Simpson’s statements might seem to indicate guilt. And it is a testament to just how vulnerable Simpson was that this interrogation, fraught with amateurish mistakes and missed chances, still showed the suspect in a guilty light.

Simpson offered many obvious clues that he was primed to make mistakes in the interrogation. His lawyer, Howard Weitzman, later claimed that he advised Simpson against speaking to the detectives, but could not convince him. Vannatter and Lange should have been able to take advantage of Simpson’s willingness to talk. Instead, they gave him a preview of the case against him.

Criminal interrogation is a real challenge, and doing it right is an art. I have performed hundreds of interrogations, and each one was different. If you pay attention, you can learn something every time about suspects and about yourself.

One of the first rules of interrogation is to never underestimate the suspect. There are many different types of suspects. You must assess what kind of a suspect you are questioning before you go ahead with the interview. If the Bundy murders had been a robbery/homicide, as I first thought possible, and we had apprehended a violent career criminal, the interrogation should have been conducted a certain way. Violent career criminals are often sociopaths. They obey no rules and feel no moral obligations to anyone else, not to their families or to the society they prey on. Sociopaths feel no remorse, have no conscience, and are difficult to interrogate. You can’t get any hooks into them. You can’t play nice guy. You can’t play tough guy. They just don’t care.

O.J. Simpson was a different type altogether. He was not an experienced criminal. He was a successful and popular celebrity who had a great deal to lose. No doubt he felt guilty about the murders, but he would try to act nonchalant. Still it would not be easy for him to maintain his demeanor; he could be broken. All the interrogators had to do was play on his guilt, on his family and children, on his position in society, and his nearly universal adoration. Simpson was obsessed with his image, he was addicted to fame, and he always needed friends around him. These personality traits could have been put to advantage by an effective interrogator.

You want to start off interrogating a suspect like Simpson by treating him with respect. Ask him open-ended questions, and let him answer them. Lull him into a false sense of security. Get him to think that you don’t suspect him, or that you don’t want to suspect him. Say, “I don’t want to believe you did it, but I just have to ask these questions in order to clear some things up.” Let him think that he can talk his way out of it.

Get him to tell a story. Then have him
   

[Simpson was obsessed with his image, he was addicted to fame, and he always needed people around him.]

tell it again. And again. See if he contradicts himself. Lead him down the path, and then shut the door on him.

Perhaps Simpson would have folded, but even if he hadn’t, he still might have provided corroborative and

incriminating statements that could have been used later. In any interrogation, your goals shouldn’t be too high. Sure, it would be great to get the suspect to give a full confession. But short of a confession, you can still learn a lot during an interrogation that can be used in court or in a subsequent investigation.

A second rule about interrogation is not to rush it. Be aware that if the suspect waived his rights and has no attorney present, he thinks he’s going to be able to talk his way out of this. His goal is to make himself no longer a suspect. You have the opposite- goal-solving the crime.

Lange and Vannatter spent a grand total of thirty-two minutes interrogating the only suspect in a high-profile double murder. I have interrogated vandalism suspects longer than that. There was no reason for the detectives to terminate the interview when they did. They should have interrogated Simpson until they got a confession, conflicting statements, or at least one clear timeline for his movements the night of the murder. They got none of these, precisely because they rushed through the interview. Both detectives clearly appeared uncomfortable interrogating the popular celebrity.

A third rule is to be prepared. There should always be two questioners in an interrogation. Before walking into the room, you and your partner should decide who takes what role. One of you should take the “in-charge” role, while the other takes notes, pretending to write down everything, when in fact you’re just noting pertinent details about the suspect s story. Work out in advance at what point you’re going to turn up the heat and become accusatory. You usually have strong evidence that this suspect committed the crime. Plan ahead when you are going to use it.

It appears evident that neither detective interrogating Simpson was prepared. They didn’t seem to have a clear script for their roles. Neither one took over the “in-charge” role completely and both seemed to dance around the questions, as if being careful to avoid offending Simpson.

A fourth rule is to get the suspect to stick with a story, any story. Let him build up your case by giving you what he thinks are harmless bits of information. He doesn’t know what this information might mean to you. And don’t let on if he says something important. With Simpson, the detectives needed to get him committed to a timeline, an alibi, and an explanation of where, why, and how he bled. He didn’t have to know, or even think, he was a suspect. His ex-wife had just been murdered; he could be convinced that he’s being asked questions because he’s her ex-husband and the officers need to know some things in order to eliminate him as a suspect. They didn’t need to get a confession from Simpson. All they needed to do was get him to commit to some details that they already knew were untrue. Then they could use his own statements against him.

A fifth rule is to take it easy. Interrogations are not conducted like Joe Friday questioning suspects in the old television show Dragnet. The questioning should not be accusatory until it needs to be. Relax yourself, and try to get your suspect to relax. Get a cup of coffee. Complain about the routine. Say how you want to get this over with and go home for dinner. Disarm him with small talk.

There’s no need to ask specific questions. Just let the suspect ramble on. You don’t have to be pointed or accusatory at this juncture, when you are still getting him to open up. Mix simple, or even meaningless, questions with the ones you really want answered. Once the suspect starts making enough mistakes you can turn the heat up. But be careful. You don’t want the interview to become antagonistic. You don’t want the suspect to invoke his rights. Get as much out of him as you can while you can. This might be the only opportunity you have to speak directly to him.

Before they even said a word, Vannatter and Lange had committed a huge blunder. Both of them left crime scenes they should have been overseeing. During the interrogation, the Rockingham estate was being searched, and Vannatter should have been there. Lange was supposed to be in charge of the Bundy crime scene, and he should have remained there until all the evidence was collected and the scene was shut down. There were perhaps a dozen detectives familiar enough with the case to perform the interrogation of Simpson. In their questioning, Vannatter and Lange didn’t use one piece of evidence that any other detective familiar with the case didn’t already know. Instead of supervising their crime scenes, Lange and Vannatter decided to interrogate Simpson. Their having two active and open crime scenes obviously hurried the interrogation, which I will now discuss in chronological detail.

After the tedious but necessary preliminaries, Vannatter seemed quite uncomfortable. He didn’t take charge of the interrogation at the beginning or at any time. Vannatter and Lange asked Simpson questions that they could easily have answered themselves. His office phone, Paula Barbieri’s address, his wife’s birthdate, the length of his marriage to Nicole, their custody arrangements. These are all facts that could be discovered from various sources. Instead of using familiar and non-threatening questions to lead Simpson where they wanted him, they wasted time and distracted themselves with irrelevant lines of questioning.

When they asked Simpson about his and Nicole’s relationship, he launched onto the first of many convoluted answers to troubling questions. But instead of letting him ramble and perhaps say something pertinent, Vannatter interjected with “Okay, the two children are yours?” This question was completely unnecessary; they already knew about the kids. It only changed the subject and let him off the hook, just when he was beginning to show signs of discomfort.