Simpson Could Get Life in Prison

Another reason, prosecutors in Las Vegas pointed out, was that Simpson no longer had possession of the souvenir footballs, photographs and other memorabilia for which collectors pay large sums. After the civil judgment, the Hall of Famer gave much of his personal collection to his former agent for safekeeping. After the two had a falling-out, Simpson became incensed that the agent began selling the items on his own.

Simpson's anger was audible in Room 1203 of the Palace Station, where he was brought by Thomas Riccio, a memorabilia entrepreneur.

Riccio said he wanted Simpson to sign copies of "If I Did It," a book in which Simpson "imagines" the June 12, 1994, killings. Simpson agreed to autograph 200 only after Riccio told him that two other memorabilia dealers would be there with footballs, photographs and clothes that Simpson wore during the murder trial.

Also in the room was a digital audio recorder, which Riccio hid on a dresser. It was running when Simpson swept in with five other heavyset, middle-age men, two of them armed. Four testified for the prosecution after plea agreements. One, a furniture mover named Charles Cashmore, made a book deal. Riccio sold the tape of the confrontation to a gossip site for $150,000 and titled his own book, "Busted: The Inside Story of the World of Sports Memorabilia, O.J. Simpson and the Vegas Arrests."

Simpson autographed it, Riccio told reporters outside the courtroom: "Tom -- don't squeeze the Juice."

In the abject cravenness of it all, Simpson's attorneys found a defense.

"This case has taken on a life of its own because of Mr. Simpson's involvement," Galanter told the jury in closing arguments Thursday. "You know that. I know that.

"Every cooperator, every person who had a gun, every person who had an ulterior motive, every person who signed a book deal, every person who got paid money, the police, the district attorney's office, is only interested in one thing: Mr. Simpson."

Simpson's attorneys also argued that the court proceedings could not escape the widespread belief that Simpson got away with murder in the 1995 trial.

Half of the pool of 500 potential jurors was eliminated for expressing a belief that he should have been convicted. Riccio's RadioShack recorder, which was still running after police arrived, captured investigators joking about Simpson finally getting his comeuppance. Galanter played the exchange in his closing argument:

"You're just picking on him because you are mad about the verdict," one investigator said.

"Yep," another said.

Prosecutors acknowledged the unsavory flavor of the case and of almost every witness. But in his own closing argument, Clark County District Attorney David Roger emphasized that, at bottom, the essential elements of the crimes were unusually clear.

"When they went into that room and forced the victims to the far side of the room, pulling out guns and yelling, 'Don't let anybody out of here!' -- six very large people detaining these two victims in the room with the intent to take property through force or violence from them -- that's kidnapping," Roger said.

Rosenbluth, the law professor, noted: "The whole undertaking was sleazy. When you think someone's taking your stuff, you don't take guns and try to get it back. You sue them. That's the American way."