DunneDominick - If I Did It: Confessions of the Killer

If I Did It

IF I DID IT

AUTHOR'S NOTE:If I did it, this is what happened.IF I DID IT. Copyright 2006 by O.J. Simpson. All rights reserved. Printed in the United States ofAmerica. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without writ-ten permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. Forinformation, address Harper Collins Publishers, 10 East 53rd Street, New York, NY 10022.Harper Collins books may be purchased for educational, business, or sales promotional use. Forinformation please write: Special Markets Department, HarperCollins Publishers, 10 East 53rdStreet, New York, NY 10022.For editorial inquiries, please contact Regan, 10100 Santa Monica Blvd., 10th floor, Los Angeles,CA 90067.FIRST EDITIONDesigned by Kris TobiassenLibrary of Congress CataloginginPublication Data has been applied for.ISBN 10: 0-06-123828-7ISBN 13: 978-0-06-123828-4

CONTENTS1. THE LUCKIEST GUY IN THE WORLD ................... 12. SO HAPPY TOGETHER ................................................. 353. PERIOD OF CONFUSION ............................................ 654. THE TWO NICOLES ...................................................... 975. THINGS FALL APART .................................................... 1136. THE NIGHT IN QUESTION ..................................... 1357. THE INTERROGATION ................................................ 1738. THE FIGHT OF MY LIFE .......................................... 205

1THE LUCKIEST GUYI N THE WORLDI'm going to tell you a story you've never heard before, because noone knows this story the way I know it. It takes place on the nightof June 12, 1994, and it concerns the murder of my exwife, NicoleBrown Simpson, and her young friend, Ronald Goldman. I wantyou to forget everything you think you know about that nightbecause I know the facts better than anyone. I know the players.I've seen the evidence. I've heard the theories. And, of course, I'veread all the stories: That I did it. That I did it but I don't know I didit. That I can no longer tell fact from fiction. That I wake up in themiddle of the night, consumed by guilt, screaming.Man, they even had me wondering, What if I did it?Well, sit back, people. The things I know, and the things Ibelieve, you can't even imagine. And I'm going to share them

IF I DID IT I 3with you. Because the story you know, or think you knowthat'snot the story. Not even close. This is one story the whole worldgot wrong.First, though, for those of you who don't know me, my nameis Orenthal James SimpsonO.J. to most people. Many yearsago, a lifetime ago, really, I was a pretty good football player. I seta few NCAA records, won the Heisman trophy, and was namedthe American Football Conference's Most Valuable Player threetimes. When I retired from football, in 1978, I went to work forNBC, as a football analyst, and in the years ahead I was inductedinto both the College Football Hall of Fame and the Pro FootballHall of Fame.I did a little acting, too, and for a number of years I was apitchman for Hertz, the rental car people. Some of you mightremember me from the television spots: I was always running late,pressed for time, leaping over fences and cars and piles of luggage tocatch my flight. If you don't see the irony in that, you will.All of that was a long time ago, though, a lifetime ago, as Isaidall of that was before the fall. And as I sit here now, trying totell my story, I'm having a tough time knowing where to begin.Still, I've heard it said that all stories are basically love stories, andmy story is no exception. This is a love story, too. And, like a lot oflove stories, it doesn't have a happy ending.Let me take you back a few years, to the summer of 1977. Iwas married then, to my first wife, Marguerite, and we were aboutto celebrate our tenth wedding anniversary, but it was not a goodtime for us. Marguerite and I had been on shaky ground for anumber of years, and at one point had actually separated, but wereconciled for the sake of our two kids, Arnelle, then nine, andJason, seven. A few months into it, though, while Marguerite andI were in the middle of dinner, she set down her fork and gave mea hard look.What? I asked.This isn't working, she said. 'And I'm five months pregnant.I knew the marriage wasn't working, but the news of the preg-nancy was a real shock.We finished dinner in silencewe were at the house onRockingham, in Brentwoodand after dinner went to bed, stillsilent. I lay there in the dark, thinking about the unborn baby. Iknew Marguerite would never consider an abortion, and it madefor a very strange situation: The youngest Simpson would be join-ing a family that had already fallen apart.In the morning, I told Marguerite that I was going to go tothe mountains for a night or two, to think things through, and Ipacked a small bag and took off.On my way out of town, I stopped at a Beverly Hills jewelrystore to pick out an anniversary present for herwe'd been marrieda decade earlier, on June 24, 1967then paid for it and left. As Imade my way down the street, heading back to my car, I ran into aguy I knew, and we went off to have breakfast at The Daisy, a cou-ple of blocks away. We found a quiet, corner table, and our youngwaitress came over. She was a stunner: Blonde, slim, and bright-eyed, with a smile that could knock a man over. Who are you?" I asked.2 O.J. SIMPSON

Nicole.Nicole what?Nicole Brown.How come I've never seen you before?I just started here, she said, laughing.She was from Dana Point, she told me, about an hour southof Los Angeles, and she'd come up for the summer to make a fewbucks.How old are you? I asked.I just turned eighteen last month, she said. On May 19.I'm sorry I missed your birthday, I said.She smiled that bright smile again. Me, too, she said.After breakfast, I made the twohour drive to Lake Arrow-head, and I spent the night up there thinking about my failing mar-riage, and trying not to think about the gorgeous young waitresswho had served me breakfast. When I got back from the moun-tains, I went home, having resolved absolutely nothing, and a fewnights later I went back to The Daisy. Nicole was there, and I took heraside. I want you to know that I'm married, but that my marriageis ending, I said. So, you knowI'm still technically a 'marriedman.' I don't know if that bothers you, but if it does I'm just lettingyou know that things are going to change soon.Is that the truth? she asked.It's the truth, I said.Later that same night, I stopped by her apartment, onWilshire Boulevard, and took her to a party. By the end of theevening, I was hooked.That was in June 1977. For the next month, I saw her almostevery single day, until it was time to leave for football. I missed her,and I spoke to her constantly. I also spoke to Marguerite, ofcourse, to see how the kids were doing, and to make sure the preg-nancy was going okay, but I was pretty confused. I had a wife backhome, with a third kid on the way, and I was already falling in lovewith another woman.I came home in time for the delivery of the baby, but splitalmost immediately after to rejoin the Buffalo Bills, the team Iwas playing with back then. When football season ended, Ireturned to L.A. and took a room at the Westwood Marquis, andI found myself pretty much living two livesone withMarguerite, as an estranged husband and father of three, and theother with Nicole, my new love. I spent most of my time withNicole, of course, at the hotel or at her little apartment, and fromtime to timewhen I was called away on businessshe'd hit theroad with me.Eventualy , I met Nicole's familytwo sisters, Denise andDominique, who were living in New York back then; a third sister,Tanya; and their mother, Juditha, who lived in Dana Point with herhusband, Lou. I didn't meet Lou till later, but that was only becausethe situation never presented itself. He knew about me, of course,and I don't think he had any objections, and if he did nobodyshared them with me.Nicole also met my kids, but I waited an entire year before Imade the introductions. I was a little wary, for obvious reasons, butNicole took to them as if they were her own. They liked her, too.