At any rate, the Lange cross was incredibly frustrating for me. And even more so for Chris. The frustration, in fact, led him to do something really stupid.
One day after court, Chris dropped by my office and said, almost offhandedly, “I just thought I should let you know that I was talking to Geraldo.”
You what?
“I just told him I’d like the officers to be more aggressive.”
I couldn’t believe it. The whole team had a pact that we wouldn’t speak to the press. It went without saying that a prosecutor shouldn’t be calling a talk-show host to vent.
“Chris,” I said quietly. “Please tell me you didn’t. That’s all we need, for the cops to hear you complaining about them on national TV.”
Chris normally showed much better judgment. This slip had me a little worried. I thought maybe the strain of taking on Johnnie was getting to him. Cochran never missed an opportunity to jerk his chain, and Chris just couldn’t let it slide. He’d managed to keep his temper in check until, during Johnnie’s cross of Tom Lange, Cochran insisted on slipping in innuendos about Faye Resnick.
“Did you learn,” he asked Tom, “whether or not Faye Resnick moved in with Nicole Brown Simpson on Friday, June 3, 1994?”
I objected: this was hearsay. Ito agreed.
But Johnnie kept pushing. “Did you ever ascertain whether or not Miss Nicole Brown Simpson had anyone who lived with her in the month before June 12 other than the children?”
“Yes.”
I objected again. Ito sustained the objection once more, but Johnnie rode right over him.
“Did you find out at some point… that Faye Resnick moved in with Nicole Brown Simpson on or about June 3, 1994-”
“Same objection,” I interjected. “Hearsay.”
This time, for reasons known only to Lance, I was overruled.
“This is what I had heard, yes,” Tom replied.
Johnnie was about to pursue this when Lance took the initiative and called us to a sidebar.
“Is this a disputed fact?” Ito asked me.
I was so furious I could hardly speak. But I managed. “It doesn’t matter whether it is a disputed fact or not,” I said. “We have all kind of slop in the record now that has been thrown in front of this jury through counsel’s method of cross-examination by saying, ‘Have you heard this?’ ‘Do you know about that?’…”
Johnnie certainly knew he was on shaky legal ground. So he tried a diversionary tactic: attacking us personally.
“They obviously haven’t tried any cases in a long time,” he said, referring to Chris and me, “and obviously don’t know how, but this is cross-examination.”
Chris blew up.
“Who is he talking about, doesn’t know how to try [a] case?” His voice was soft but the undercurrent of fury was palpable.
“Wait, Mr. Darden,” Lance warned. He’d made a rule that only one lawyer per side could speak to an issue.
Chris didn’t pay any attention to him.
“Is he the only lawyer who knows how to try [a] case?”
Lance had heard enough. “I’m going to hold you in contempt,” he said.
“I should be held in contempt,” Chris threw back at him. “I have sat here and listened to-”
“Mr. Darden, I’m warning you right now.”
“This cross-examination is out of order,” Chris continued.
Ito excused the jury. Then he turned to Chris again.
“Mr. Darden, let me give you a piece of advice. Take about three deep breaths, as I am going to do, and then contemplate what you are going to say next. Do you want to take a recess now for a moment?”
“I don’t require a recess,” Chris replied.
“… I have cited you. Do you have any response?”
“I would like counsel, Your Honor.” Meaning: I need a lawyer.
Ito told him he could have it. I figured I’d better step in here.
“I would like to be heard in Mr. Darden’s behalf,” I said. Lance asked if that meant I was representing him, and I said it did.
“What we are all concerned about here, Your Honor,” I explained, “is that there is a method of cross-examination that is being conducted by Mr. Cochran that has-”
But Lance cut me off. “That’s not what I’m interested in, Mrs. Clark.” Ito was fixated on one thing: bringing Chris to heel with an apology. “When I invite counsel to take three deep breaths and think carefully about what they are going to say to the court next,” he said, “that’s an opportunity to say ‘Gee, I’m sorry. I lost my head there. I apologize to the court. I apologize to counsel.’ When you get that response, then we move on. Do you want to fight with the court some more? You are welcome to do so.”
He declared a ten-minute recess and told us to think things over.
Back at counsel table, Chris and I huddled. One look at him and I knew that taking deep breaths and apologizing was the furthest thing from his mind. Chris needed real representation now. I told him I could have the office call county counsel. “In the meantime,” I said, “shall I act as your attorney?”
He thought for a moment, then nodded.
“Just don’t get me arrested,” he said.
When Ito reconvened the court, I asked for a continuance, so Chris could get a county lawyer and a fair hearing.
Denied.
“This is civil contempt, Counsel. It has to be adjudicated immediately, unless you want to make it a criminal contempt and have a jury trial…” he informed me.
“Can we use the same jury, Your Honor?” I quipped lamely.
Lance was not amused. “I’ve offered you now three times an opportunity to end this right now.”
I had to think fast. If I let Ito believe I had advised Chris to apologize and he had refused, Chris would be in the hot seat alone. I could not do that to my partner. The only other way I saw was to take the heat myself.
You want to play, Lance? Let’s play.
Very calmly-at least I was hoping it looked calm-I began removing my jewelry. First a gold bangle bracelet, which I slid down my wrist and laid unobtrusively on the table. Then my Citizen watch. I flashed momentarily on that night so many years ago when I was collared by the narc in the Ban-Lon shirt. Well, here it was: my belated bust. On national television.
I was just as scared now as I had been then. Would we be spending the night in a holding cell? I wondered. The deputies would certainly find accommodations away from the general population. Wouldn’t they? I’d need to make arrangements at home. But I couldn’t say where I was. “Mommy’s in jail”? I felt that sickening anxiety brought on by a fall from grace.
Lance knew very well what I was doing, and I’m sure he was panicking as he realized this was no bluff. Still, we were acting like a bunch of cranky children. How far would this go?
From somewhere out in the audience someone called out, “Jesus Christ!”
It was Gerry Spence, the Wyoming defense attorney whose frontier-philosopher routine had made him a regular on the talk-show circuit.