“Forty crates of champagne were brought in. The police department, which he loves, while acknowledging that there are flaws in it, had been mocked and humiliated by Simpson’s legal team. His disgust for the assignment sounded in his voice and showed on his face. “After the verdict was handed down, the West L.A.P.D.-because Rockingham is in our jurisdiction-had to send police units over there to O.J.’s house for crowd control and to protect the estate while they were preparing for a party to celebrate the deaths of two people,” said Detective Paul Bishop when we met for breakfast at Dolores’s at Santa Monica Boulevard and Purdue, not far from the station house. Larry Schiller, Simpson’s co-author, was there. Women in pink pantsuits waved champagne toasts to the media. His mother, Eunice, arrived in a Rolls-Royce. When he arrived back at the gates of his Brentwood mansion to restart his life, a party was in preparation. There were hosannas to my left there were tears to my right. My jaw dropped-in case anyone didn’t notice it on television-when the verdict was read. I had always thought it would be a hung jury. Simpson, winning and losing concurrently, with the loss somehow exceeding the win. I never thought it would end like this for O.
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