Throwing the Book at O.J. Simpson

"The money from this is just going to pay off his lawyers, his creditors," she says. "He has so much debt he has to be able to pay back something. . . . We were on the same page until he wanted to sell this book for his own financial gain."

Under terms of an agreement worked out between the attorneys, Brown's estate will get roughly 10 percent off the top of sales, and Goldman the rest. In Goldman's case, a large chunk of what's remaining will go first to Cook, the collection attorney.

And none of it, of course, will come from Simpson himself, but rather from the book-buying public.

Goldman, for his part, is sympathetic but not persuaded by Brown's lacerating criticism. The families have never been close.

"I don't criticize them," he says. "I don't envy their position."

But he says that has no bearing on his pursuit of Simpson, which will last for the ages.

"It's not all-encompassing, though. I seem to function as a reasonably normal human being. It's just a piece of my life that needs to constantly be pursued. I need to continue to pursue the killer. My daughter feels the same way. My family feels the same way. I can't imagine stepping back and saying, 'Okay, I'm done.' "

* * *

The next morning, in the pre-dawn glow, Venus is brilliant in the sky. There are no clouds. The mountains are not the graceless brown of midday, when the heat and the dust are choking. At this hour, the hills are a sawtooth ridge against the blackness. Fingers of sunlight filter across the sky. It is peaceful -- not the fried-into-torpor reality of early afternoon -- but something soft, cool and mystic, calm and beautiful.

Fred Goldman awakes and leaves at this time of day, flying east, away from his son's grave, to the television klieg lights and the radio microphones and the shouts and the controversy, an aging man seeking justice or peace or vengeance, or maybe some nameless thing that might be found in between.