O.J. FEELS THE HEAT

By ELIZABETH GLEICK

Late one night during the O.J. Simpson criminal trial last year, prosecutor Marcia Clark let down her hair and indulged a fantasy: getting the chance to cross-examine Simpson herself. The accused murderer's defense attorneys, after all, kept dangling the tantalizing prospect before her. "It'll never happen," Clark said. "But I would love it." Striking a hungry, heavy-lidded pose at her desk, she cooed, "Good morning, Mr. Simpson. I have a few thousand questions to ask you."

Simpson may or may not have actually wanted to answer those few thousand questions--he has insisted he did--but in the end, his lawyers decided it would be unwise. Now, however, as the defendant in a wrongful-death suit filed by the families of murder victims Nicole Brown Simpson and Ronald Goldman, Simpson has no choice. So like some promise of light emerging from the fog of an obscure and unpredictable trial, there he was on the witness stand in a Santa Monica, California, courtroom last Friday morning, impeccably dressed, a little nervous--and who wouldn't be?--answering the first of what may indeed turn out to be thousands of questions. This is real life, so there was no made-for-TV bombshell--no weeping O.J. confessing, no furious O.J. tripped up by damning contradictions. But merely watching him up there, at last being called to account for his actions in his own words, provided its own sort of climax. It was as if, after several acts of a melodrama with a convoluted plot and a cast of thousands, the protagonist finally took center stage.

When The People v. Orenthal James Simpson concluded last October, America's silly season ended. Gone was O.J., nothing but O.J., from television and from the tabloids. What lingered, though, from the most avidly discussed criminal trial in the late 20th century was not fond memories of the Dancing Itos but bitter divisions and unanswered questions. Simpson was acquitted in a matter of hours by a mostly black jury after a yearlong proceeding tainted by race baiting and muddied by mountains of evidence and theories of police conspiracy. Nothing seemed the same: not juries, not police departments, not the reputations of anyone who came near the trial--and not civil discourse.

Every time one thinks the country has wearied of O.J., evidence arises to prove that plenty of people still find the subject compelling. Books about the case keep climbing best-seller lists; erstwhile O.J. friends still give prime-time interviews to the likes of Barbara Walters; dozens of cameras greet the parade of witnesses who have been entering the courtroom since the civil trial began on Oct. 23. And last week, with Simpson on the stand, the tangled tale was back on the front pages, back on Nightline and Larry King Live, back as a staple of our dinner-table conversations.

The civil trial has offered plenty of surprises, with many more to come. It is just that with the parties under a gag order and cameras banned from the courtroom, the proceedings have been a little harder for outside observers to decipher. In reality, this is turning out to be a very different trial, with key pieces of evidence, including the bloody shoe prints, and the time line being cast in an entirely new light. Rulings by Superior Court Judge Hiroshi Fujisaki--who has been nicknamed the anti-Ito for his decisive, suffer-no-fools demeanor--have also caused significant shifts in strategy. Last week, for example, Fujisaki ruled that videotapes of former Los Angeles police detective Mark Fuhrman's testimony could not be shown to jurors, while earlier rulings have made it difficult for the defense to offer alternate scenarios of a police conspiracy or murderous drug lords without any hard evidence. Even without the testimony of Simpson, the plaintiffs may be able to reach the necessary "preponderance of the evidence" required to tip the scales toward a favorable verdict.

With the testimony of Simpson, however, Clark--and the world--can at least get some vicarious satisfaction. On Friday many members of the media and legal VIPs--including author Lawrence Schiller and former Simpson defense attorney Robert Shapiro--were relegated to watching the trial on a screen in a "listening room" at the Doubletree hotel next door to the courthouse. And inside the courtroom there was an air of occasion as Simpson and plaintiffs' attorney Daniel Petrocelli began their cat-and-mouse game. Simpson--who had stopped to jauntily sign autographs as he arrived--at last found himself nearly face to face with members of the Goldman clan, who sat close to the witness box. And Petrocelli got right down to the business of punching holes in Simpson's credibility. "You are not as interested in specific facts as you are in the effect of his testimony on the jury," explains Wyoming criminal lawyer Gerry Spence. "Credibility is the entire, only, whole, absolute, 100% issue on cross-examination of O.J. Simpson."

No, not, never: though Simpson's confidence grew as the day went on, the spell he cast may have been a negative one. He did not feel vengeful toward his wife. People who say he talked incessantly about Nicole in the weeks preceding the murders, including golfing buddies of his like Alan Austin, were wrong. Even tangible evidence like his phone records were wrong: at one point, Petrocelli put up a display of all Simpson's phone calls from his residence and his cellular phone on the day of June 12. Simpson acknowledged the eight calls to ex-girlfriend Paula Barbieri--who has offered the potentially damaging news in her deposition, and may soon say in court, that she broke up with him that very day--and the two calls to Nicole. But the records that revealed he twice dialed his 999 code to retrieve messages from his cellular-phone voice mail--including a 7 a.m. breakup call from Barbieri--were wrong, said Simpson. And even though he told police the day after the murders that he had picked up his messages, he now said he did not.

The most compelling series of "nos" came during the exchanges about domestic violence. As Petrocelli wove for the jury a narrative of Simpson's life and times with Nicole, he hammered away at their tempestuous relationship--one that resulted in calls to police and a no-contest plea to spousal battery in 1989. With an enormous blow-up of Nicole's face, cut and purpled with bruises, looming on a huge screen behind the former football star, the lawyer quizzed him about numerous other incidents in which witnesses say Nicole was hit by her husband. And Petrocelli walked Simpson through some landmarks on his former wife's bashed-in face: a split lip, a welt over her eye and red marks around her neck. Maybe they were caused by Nicole's propensity to pick at her pimples, Simpson suggested. "A lot of this redness would normally be there most nights, once she picked and cleaned her face," he said.

With an almost numbing repetition of the word never, Simpson insisted he never hit, slapped or beat Nicole, and that the contents of her diary, in which she wrote that he hit her, and her complaints to the police were lies. He did, however, acknowledge that they had "physical altercations"--engaging in what he repeatedly referred to as "rassling." And even as he denied causing her bruises, he did say, "I was wrong for everything that led to this."

To many observers, Simpson's first day on the stand was notable as much for what did not occur as for what did: Simpson's famous hair-trigger anger never flared. "He hasn't exploded, and they [the other side] want him to," says lawyer Leo Terrell, who had lunch with Simpson, his father-and-son lawyer team Robert and Phil Baker, and family members on Friday during the break from testimony. "One family member overheard the plaintiffs saying, 'We've got to get him angry.' The one thing he's doing is keeping his cool." Of course, the former actor has no doubt been extensively coached. In recent days he has even been seen poring over copies of his depositions while sitting in court, like an actor rehearsing his lines.

The plaintiffs' lawyers have the advantage of plucking out the elements of the prosecution's case that worked and rethinking the rest. In fact, the original prosecutors spent hours with Petrocelli and his team, helping them prepare. As Boston criminal lawyer Harvey Silverglate puts it, "The side that prevailed is going to try it as close as they can to the way that they did when they won, and the other side is going to change the contour of the second trial."

That goes a way toward explaining some of the more remarkable moments of the civil trial so far, and a key member of the original prosecution team talked to TIME about how envious he feels as he watches this case unfold. "The plaintiffs, like any good lawyers, have learned from our mistakes," the prosecutor says. "The plaintiffs have had a built-in advantage in that they could depose people. They could take pretrial statements under oath, months before the trial."

Petrocelli & Co. has, for instance, rethought the time line. Prosecutors Clark and Christopher Darden built their case on the theory that the murders were committed between 10:15 and 10:20 p.m. on June 12, bringing on Nicole's neighbor Pablo Fenjves to testify that he heard the "plaintive wail" of Kato the Akita at around that time. The prosecutors felt that gave Simpson plenty of time to commit the murders, then return to his Rockingham estate by about 10:45 or 10:50, which is when limousine driver Allan Park says he saw a dark figure entering the house.

Now, though, Petrocelli's team has opted to go with witness Robert Heidstra, who was previously a witness for the defense. In late October, Heidstra told the civil jury that he heard a voice yelling, "Hey, hey, hey!" at about 10:40 and that moments later he saw a white utility vehicle speeding away from the scene. Though this tightens the race Simpson would have had to make between Nicole's house and his own, Heidstra is a strong witness. "Some of us always thought it was a mistake to pin the murders to 10:15," a former Simpson prosecutor says. "[Heidstra's] story has always been consistent."

Instead of using the L.A. County coroners, the plaintiffs put Dr. Werner Spitz, a respected pathologist, on the stand. His testimony that the cuts on Simpson's left hand were caused by the struggle with Ron Goldman, who gouged Simpson with his fingernails, riveted jurors. (Spitz even offered to rake his nails across defense lawyer Robert Baker's skin to demonstrate. "We're not going to have any gouging of flesh out in my courtroom," Judge Fujisaki said.) Even without that dramatic flare-up, the cuts--or rather the assorted stories he has told about them--may prove problematic for the defense. Simpson testified at his January deposition that he cut his left pinkie as he rushed around getting ready to leave for Chicago the night of the murders. "I bleed all the time," he told police when he was interrogated after the murders. He also said he may have cut his hand on a glass in his Chicago hotel room, then testified during his deposition that maybe he cut his hand again after he returned. And last week Kato Kaelin piled on, testifying that he saw no cuts on Simpson's hand at 11 p.m., when Simpson left for his Chicago business trip, even though Simpson has claimed that he saw blood in his kitchen and dabbed at his bleeding pinkie with a tissue.

Kaelin has, in fact, proved to be one of the minor surprises this time around. The actor-houseguest was one of Clark's biggest problems. She spent long, frustrating hours in her office and in court trying to coax coherent testimony from the loosey-goosey Kaelin. Then last week a spiffed-up, more verb-friendly Kaelin testified that Simpson was brooding, and cursing, the day before the murders over his former wife's sexual escapades, referring to an incident in which he witnessed Nicole having sex with a boyfriend, Keith Zlomsowitch. And Kaelin also mentioned last week that the three thumps he heard on his bedroom wall sounded "like someone falling back against my bedroom wall"--that is, like a human being. "Kato knew which side his bread was buttered on, but I think he had fear," says the former Simpson prosecutor. "For us, he gave up only what he had to. Now he has separated from Simpson. He also probably feels some remorse for not assisting more and for not helping Nicole more. But I tell you this: he's still not giving up all he knows."

For all the talk about blood evidence and Bronco fibers, the first jury was not all that interested in grappling with the extremely complex forensic evidence the state presented. As Michael Brewer, a lawyer for Ron Goldman's mother Sharon Rufo, told the Los Angeles Times, pre-gag order, "The jurors don't care about the minutiae; they care about the essence." That is why the moment that Simpson struggled to get the glove on was so pivotal. The plaintiffs' team has already tried to dispatch that one, bringing on a glove expert to testify that it shrank but looked like the same dark leather glove Simpson was wearing in a picture. And that is what makes the current discrepancies surrounding a pair of Italian shoes even more significant.

In the criminal trial, FBI shoe expert William Bodziak testified that bloody footprints leading away from the Bundy crime scene came from a pair of size-12, expensive, Italian-made Bruno Magli shoes, only 299 pairs of which were sold in the U.S. Simpson denied owning anything like them, going so far as to say in his January deposition that he would never wear such "ugly-ass" shoes. Then free-lance photographer Harry Scull found a photograph he had taken of Simpson walking through the end zone before a Sept. 26, 1993, Buffalo Bills game; he appears to be wearing the Bruno Magli shoes. Scull sold the picture for $2,500 to the National Enquirer, which published it in April. During a deposition in September, Simpson was forced to backpedal, saying, "I know I've had similar shoes."

Last week Bodziak again testified that the shoes appeared to be the same, but the defense is claiming the photograph was doctored. The defense also showed that Bodziak was unable to identify an assortment of other shoe prints surrounding the crime scene. Since then, though, the National Enquirer has come up with another photograph showing Simpson wearing similar shoes in 1993. "God, how we searched for those shoes," says the former Simpson prosecutor now. "We sat watching Christmas videos with the Brown family. We digitally enhanced photos of things in his closet, hoping to find an old shoe box. But we couldn't find anything."

A key plaintiffs' source tells TIME that Simpson also faces questions about apparent inconsistencies regarding the day of the murder. He has been alternately asleep, reading, sitting on his bed and chipping golf balls during the murders--and he conceded last week that no one saw him at all between 9:35 and 10:50 p.m. And in his original statement to police Simpson said he was having "weird thoughts" about Nicole, which was why he preferred not to take a lie-detector test. In his deposition Simpson, under persistent questioning, said that those weird thoughts were about the time Nicole had struck his maid, and that he thought the maid should have hit her back. Says the source: "The day after your wife is murdered, the thought you are having is that the maid should have hit her back? Come on. That will be examined fully."

As will Simpson's actions the day he was supposed to surrender to police. Unlike in the criminal trial, where prosecutors were worried that introducing the tale of Simpson's slow-speed Bronco chase would open the door to testimony about a grief-stricken and suicidal husband, Simpson will now be called to account for those hours--and for the fact that he carried with him a disguise, a pile of cash and his passport.

Simpson will also be quizzed about the six weeks leading up to the murders. Both the plaintiffs and the prosecutors contend that those weeks were important, that it was the time when Nicole Brown Simpson made a final break from her ex-husband. Although Simpson on the stand last week described Nicole as the pursuer--he had called her attentions "incessant" in his deposition--he acknowledges that he gave Nicole a $6,000 diamond-and-sapphire bracelet for her birthday on May 19, but that she returned the gift within two weeks.

Despite all the seeming inconsistencies, Simpson gave off an overall sense of being in control, if a bit weary, by the end of the day. His friend Leo Terrell says, "His demeanor at lunch after three hours of being on the stand was just like he is any other day." And when Petrocelli finishes up, Simpson enters friendlier waters with his own defense attorneys, who will allow him to give his version of his relationship with his ex-wife. If Robert Baker's opening statement is any indication, Simpson will portray Nicole as a volatile, unstable woman who began associating with a hard-partying, dangerous crowd in the final months of her life. As Simpson has said several times, the responsibility for the murders lies "in the world of Faye Resnick."

No matter which version of events the predominantly white jury ultimately chooses to believe when the trial ends, anyone expecting them to reach some holy grail of truth this time around will be disappointed. All that is needed is a "preponderance of the evidence"--a much lower standard than reasonable doubt--and eight out of 12 jurors in agreement. Simpson may be held liable in the deaths of these two people, but he will not go to prison. Depending on the cleverness of his attorneys, Simpson may not even have to pay full damages, although this case is less about money than about exacting retribution. And a victory at trial, just like the last time around, does not necessarily mean that someday the real killers will be found. The jurors, like many Americans, may have already made up their minds. On Friday, as Petrocelli, voice booming dramatically, accused the defendant of killing Nicole, then Ron Goldman, Simpson kept turning toward the jurors, trying to catch each of their eyes, as he answered, over and over, "Absolutely not." Some jurors were already looking elsewhere.

--Reported by Elaine Lafferty/Santa Monica and Andrea Sachs/New York

With reporting by ELAINE LAFFERTY/SANTA MONICA AND ANDREA SACHS/NEW YORK