O.J. Simpson

Ulkomailla tapahtuneet selvitetyt tai vielä selvittämättömät henkirikokset
Aizerbaidzan
Angus MacGyver
Viestit: 6651
Liittynyt: Su Touko 13, 2007 12:22 pm

Viesti Kirjoittaja Aizerbaidzan »

Sekoilut jatkuvat...
Iltalehti 18.9.2007 kirjoitti:Ryöstöstä syytetyn entisen näyttelijän ja urheilutähden O. J. Simpsonin elämä muuttui entistä tukalammaksi, kun julkisuuteen tuli ääninauha, jossa hänen kuullaan riehuvan ja kiroilevan ryöstön yhteydessä.

Simpson pidätettiin sunnuntaina epäiltynä aseellisesta ryöstöstä, aseella tehdystä hyökkäyksestä, salaliitosta ja murrosta. Mikäli hänet tuomitaan, miestä voi odottaa jopa 30 vuoden vankeustuomio.

Välikohtaus tapahtui hotellissa Las Vegasissa, jossa Simpson tapasi urheilumuistoesineitä kauppaavia henkilöitä. Simpson ryösti esineet ystäviensä kanssa aseella uhaten, mutta väitti sitten, että kyse ei ollut ryöstöstä, koska esineet kuuluivat alunperin hänelle.

Yhä vankilassa

Yksi huoneessa ollut henkilö julkaisi internetissä ryöstön aikana nauhoitetun ääninauhan, jolla Simpsonin kuullaan raivoavan.

- Älkää päästäkö ketään pois tästä huoneesta. Luuletteko, että voitte varastaa kamojani ja myydä ne? Simpson huutaa ja kiroilee.

Simpson on edelleen telkien takana, sillä häntä ei suostuttu laskemaan vapaaksi takuita vastaan. Hän kuitenkin pyrkii pääsemään vapaalle jalalle niin nopeasti kuin mahdollista. Poliisi on pidättänyt myös toisen miehen, jota epäillään osallisuudesta ryöstöön. Lisäksi viranomaiset etsivät vielä ainakin neljää henkilöä.

- O.J. ryntäsi sisään huoneeseen ystäviensä kanssa kuin kommando. He heiluttelivat aseita, yksi ryöstön uhreista, Bruce Fromong, kertoi.

- Ainoa asia jota pystyin ajattelemaan, kun näin hänet, oli: O.J. miten sinä voit olla näin uskomattoman tyhmä? Fromong sanoi.

Simpsonia, 60, syytettiin vuonna 1995 ex-vaimonsa ja tämän ystävän kylmäverisestä murhasta. Hänet kuitenkin vapautettiin syytteestä. Siviilioikeudessa hänet tuomittiin silti maksamaan 33 miljoonaa dollaria korvaukseksi uhrien omaisille.

Aizerbaidzan
Angus MacGyver
Viestit: 6651
Liittynyt: Su Touko 13, 2007 12:22 pm

Viesti Kirjoittaja Aizerbaidzan »

Iltalehti 19.9.2007 kirjoitti:O.J. Simpsonia syytetään kidnappaamisesta

Kidnappauksen lisäksi Simpson on asetettu syytteeseen hyökkäämisestä ja aseellisesta ryöstöstä.

Kaikkiaan syytteitä on kahdeksan, mikä on kaksi enemmän kuin sunnuntaina, kun hänet pidätettiin. Jos Simpson tuomitaan, se voi merkitä jopa 30 vuotta vankilassa.

60-vuotiasta entistä urheilusankaria pidetään parhaillaan vangittuna Las Vegasissa. Hänet pidätettiin yhteydestä urheilumuistoesineiden ryöstöön. Simpson on väittänyt, että muistoesineet kuuluvat hänelle ja että hän rikoskumppaneineen koitti vain saada omaisuutensa takaisin.

Simpsonin asianajaja kritisoi sitä, ettei hänen päämiestään ole päästetty vapaaksi.

- Jos kyseessä olisi kuka tahansa kuin O.J. Simpson, hänet olisi päästetty pois. Omaa omaisuuttaan ei voi ryöstää.

Simpson muistetaan vuoden 1995 kohuoikeudenkäynnistä, jossa hän oli syytettynä ex-vaimonsa ja tämän miesystävän murhista. Simpson kuitenkin vapautettiin syytteistä. Myöhemmin siviilioikeus määräsi hänet maksamaan 33,5 miljoonan dollaria murhattujen omaisille.
Selviääköhän Simpson tällä kertaa ilman tuomiota? 30 vuotta linnaa olisi luvassa eli vapaus koittaisi 90-vuotiaana.

Bateman
Susikoski
Viestit: 34
Liittynyt: Ti Elo 07, 2007 3:31 pm

Viesti Kirjoittaja Bateman »

Toivottavasti menee linnaan. Varmasti hienoa selvitä tuplamurhasyytteistä, mutta joutua linnaan jostain urheilumemorabiliariidasta :lol:
Viimeksi muokannut Bateman, To Syys 20, 2007 2:29 pm. Yhteensä muokattu 1 kertaa.
"I have to return some videotapes."

Aizerbaidzan
Angus MacGyver
Viestit: 6651
Liittynyt: Su Touko 13, 2007 12:22 pm

Viesti Kirjoittaja Aizerbaidzan »

Simpson pääsi takuita vastaan vapaaksi.
Iltalehti 19.9.2007 kirjoitti:O.J. Simpson vapaaksi takuita vastaan

Muun muassa aseellisesta ryöstöstä ja kidnappausyrityksestä syytteessä oleva amerikkalainen ex-jalkapalloilija O.J. Simpson pääsi keskiviikkona vapaaksi takuita vastaan.

Simpson pidätettiin viikonvaihteessa Las Vegasissa epäiltynä osallisuudesta aseelliseen ryöstöön. Poliisin mukaan Simpson oli mukana, kun aseistettujen miesten ryhmä tunkeutui hotellihuoneeseen ja vei huoneesta arvokkaita urheilumuistoesineitä.

Simpsonin mukaan kyse ei ollut ryöstöstä, koska esineet kuuluvat hänelle.

Simpsonia pidettiin alkuun telkien takana ilman takuita. Keskiviikkoisessa oikeudenistunnossa hänet päästettiin kuitenkin vapaalle jalalle 125 000 dollarin takuusummaa vastaan. Ex-jalkapalloilijan passi takavarikoitiin, ja tuomari varoitti Simpsonia ankarasti ottamasta mitään yhteyttä jutun todistajiin tai vastapuoleen.

Aiemmin jalkapalloilijana ja elokuvanäyttelijänä tunnettu O.J. Simpson ei ole ensi kertaa oikeuden edessä. Vuonna 1995 Simpson oli syytteessä entisen vaimonsa ja tämän miesystävän murhista, mutta hänet vapautettiin näytön puutteen vuoksi.

Myöhemmin siviilioikeudessa Simpson määrättiin kuitenkin maksamaan murhattujen omaisille jättikorvaukset, joista hän ei ole maksanut penniäkään. Simpson asuu Floridassa juuri siksi, ettei siellä ulosmitata hänen tulojaan.

EuroJR
Jessica Fletcher
Viestit: 3334
Liittynyt: Ma Maalis 26, 2007 7:26 pm
Paikkakunta: Costa del Crime

Viesti Kirjoittaja EuroJR »

Onpas tässä tullut oltua sokeita taas. Tuo kirja "If I did it" löytyi 5 minuutissa netistä p2p-ohjelmalla. Käykäähän hakemassa, alkuperäinen kun vedettiin pois markkinoilta. Noh, ei haittaa, kyllä ilmainenkin kelpaa 8)

Vieläkö täällä on joku, kenen mielestä O.J. oli viaton :?:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/If_I_Did_It

Howler
Axel Foley
Viestit: 2291
Liittynyt: Ti Syys 04, 2007 10:42 am

Viesti Kirjoittaja Howler »

EuroJR kirjoitti:Onpas tässä tullut oltua sokeita taas. Tuo kirja "If I did it" löytyi 5 minuutissa netistä p2p-ohjelmalla.
Umm... Mikä on p2p-ohjelma? o.O Olisi kyllä mielenkiintoista lukea tuo kirja, oikeasti.
EuroJR kirjoitti: Vieläkö täällä on joku, kenen mielestä O.J. oli viaton :?:
Minä ainakaan en usko, että O.J. olisi viaton. En vieläkään tajua, miten hän pääsi vapaaksi syytteestä! Ja muutenkin, aivan naurettavaa koko O.J. oikeudenkäynti. Huhhuh sanon minä. Ja tuo kirja... Miksi hän edes kirjoitti sen? Omatunnon tuskissaan?

EuroJR
Jessica Fletcher
Viestit: 3334
Liittynyt: Ma Maalis 26, 2007 7:26 pm
Paikkakunta: Costa del Crime

Viesti Kirjoittaja EuroJR »

http://fi.wikipedia.org/wiki/P2p

Annan raportin kirjasta, jahka olen sen kerinnyt lukea.

Aizerbaidzan
Angus MacGyver
Viestit: 6651
Liittynyt: Su Touko 13, 2007 12:22 pm

Viesti Kirjoittaja Aizerbaidzan »

Howler kirjoitti:Ja muutenkin, aivan naurettavaa koko O.J. oikeudenkäynti. Huhhuh sanon minä.
Tällä kertaa Simpson ei pääse yhtä helpolla. Toivottavasti saa sen 30 vuotta vankeutta, enemmänkin toki voisi tulla.

Tai sitten varmaan joku helvetin kallis juristi järjestää hänet tästäkin kuiville.

CHG
Nikke Knakkertton
Viestit: 150
Liittynyt: Ma Touko 14, 2007 4:04 pm

Viesti Kirjoittaja CHG »

Bateman kirjoitti:Toivottavasti menee linnaan. Varmasti hienoa selvitä tuplamurhasyytteistä, mutta joutua linnaan jostain urheilumemorabiliariidasta :lol:
Ns. 'Al Capone' -ilmiö ;)...

Häkkiin todellakin.

Katjushka
Theo Kojak
Viestit: 1166
Liittynyt: Ma Kesä 11, 2007 9:17 pm

Viesti Kirjoittaja Katjushka »

CHG kirjoitti:Ns. 'Al Capone' -ilmiö ;)...
Heh :lol: Mietin just tota aivan samaa, kun luin jutusta. Olisi kannattanut tolla taustalla körötellä nopeusrajoitusten mukaan koko loppuelämä tms. Nyt tosiaan saattaa napsahtaa sadan vuoden kakku.... :wink:

EuroJR
Jessica Fletcher
Viestit: 3334
Liittynyt: Ma Maalis 26, 2007 7:26 pm
Paikkakunta: Costa del Crime

Viesti Kirjoittaja EuroJR »

http://www.digitoday.fi/viihde/2007/12/ ... 0/66?rss=6


Jaha, kirja taas tapetilla. Kaikki haluaa osansa. En ole ehtinyt/viitsinyt lukea tuota vielä, koska:
a) jonossa on noin 100 kirjaa
b) tietokoneelta on ikävä lukea pitempiä juttuja

Joka tapauksessa voisin postata tähän hieman noita "kovimpia kohtia" tästä hyllytetystä kirjasta.

EuroJR
Jessica Fletcher
Viestit: 3334
Liittynyt: Ma Maalis 26, 2007 7:26 pm
Paikkakunta: Costa del Crime

Viesti Kirjoittaja EuroJR »

Tässä on vapaasti yhdistelty ja lyhennelty tuota "opusta".

-------------------------------------------
I was in a lousy mood after the recital. I didn't like
what Ron had said about Nicole and the girls: We don't know the
half of it. The half I did know about was bad enough.

For a few moments, sitting there in my living room, I wondered
if I should threaten to fight her for custody. The idea was not
to take the kids away from her, I knew that would destroy her but to shake her up so badly that she'd finally start trying to get her
shit together. The girl was an accident waiting to happen.

The last few times I'd called Nicole to try to get the kids, which I
often did on the spur of the moment, she had gone out of her way
to make it hard for me. She always found some reason not to let me
take them. The kids are tired. They've just eaten. They've had enough
excitement for one day.

I couldn't understand it. She didn't even want me to see my
own kids. It seemed like she was making everything as difficult as
possible for me. It's true what they say about never really knowing
another person. Nicole wasn't even Nicole anymore. She was a
complete stranger to me.

Suddenly I felt exhausted. I was getting old. I could hardly
walk anymore, and I'd been told recently that I would eventually
have to have both knees rebuilt. Plus the arthritis was killing me. I
was on medication, but there were days when my hands hurt so
much I couldn't pick up a fucking spoon.

Don't get me wrong: Nicole had been a terrific mother—
almost obsessive at times—but she'd been screwing up big time
lately.

The driver got out and waved from the distance, and at first
I couldn't tell who it was. When he came closer, I saw it was
Charlie. I'd met him some months earlier at a dinner with mutual
friends, and I'd seen him again a few weeks earlier, when we'd gone
clubbing with the same friends. I liked Charlie—he was one of
those guys who is always in a good mood, always laughing—and I
told him what I tell a lot of people: Stop by when you're in the neighborhood.
I guess he took it literally.
Now picture this—and keep in mind, this is hypothetical:

Charlie looked away, avoiding my eyes. "It's nothing, man,"
he said.
"Come on," I said. "You can tell me."
He looked back at me, struggling with his thoughts. "You're
not going to like it," he said finally.
My stomach lurched again and right away I knew. "This is
about Nicole, isn't it?"
Charlie nodded.
"What about her?"

"You're not going to like it," he repeated.
"Just tell me," I said, already riled. "Before I get pissed off."
Charlie took a step back, like he thought I might hit him or
something. "A couple of these guys at dinner tonight, I guess they
didn't know that you and I were friends," he began, tripping over
the words. "They started talking about this little trip they took to
Cabo a few months back, in March I think it was, and about these
girls they partied with."
"Yeah?"
Charlie took a moment. "It was Nicole and her friend Faye,"
he said.
"I'm listening," I said. I tried to stay calm, but I was fit to
explode.
"There was a lot of drugs and a lot of drinking, and apparently
things got pretty kinky."
"Why are you fucking telling me this, man?!" I hollered. I
turned and had to fight the urge to put my fist through the
Bentley's window.
"I'm sorry, man. I thought you'd want to know."
"Well I don't fucking want to know! I'm sick of hearing this
shit!"
"I'm sorry—"
"That is the mother of my children!"

"We're going to scare the shit out that girl," I said.
"What? Now?'
"It never fucking ends. Every time I turn around, it's something
new—and none of it's pretty."
"This isn't a good idea, O.J."
"Fuck that. I'm tired of being the understanding ex-husband.
I have my kids to think about."

"That's fucked up, man," Charlie said.
"Tell me about it!" I said. I glanced over at him. He looked
scared. "Relax, man," I said. "I'm just going to talk to the girl. And
it'll be quick. I'm leaving for Chicago on the red eye."
"I shouldn't have told you," Charlie said.
"No, man. You did the right thing. This is exactly what I
needed—something to shake me up. This shit's been eating away at
me forever, and it's got to stop. I want to get on with my fucking
life. I've got to get this under control."
"You should let the lawyers handle it."
"Fuck the lawyers. You know what divorce lawyers are? They
are the scum of the earth. Preying on people at their weakest and
most vulnerable. I know. I've given those scumbags a million dollars
already!"

We were at Bundy by then, where it meets San Vicente
Boulevard. I jogged left for a few yards and made a quick right to
get back on Bundy. We passed the light at Montana and I slowed
near Nicole's place. I looked at Charlie again. He
seemed pretty glum.

"What if she's with someone?"
"She better not be," I said. "Not with my kids in the house."
I reached into the back seat for my blue wool cap and my
gloves. I kept them there for those mornings when it was nippy on
the golf course. I slipped into them.
"What the fuck are you doing, man?" Charlie said. "You look
like a burglar."

"Good." I said. I reached under the seat for my knife. It was
very nice knife, a limited edition, and I kept it on hand for the crazies.
Los Angeles is full of crazies. "Nice, huh?" I said, showing it to
Charlie. "Check out that blade."

Nicole's back gate was broken. The buzzer didn't work
properly, and the gate opened if you gave it a little push. I must have
told her a million times—"Please get the goddamn gate fixed!"—but
the woman never listened. I slipped past the gate, into the narrow
courtyard, and moved toward the front door, and right away I
noticed lights flickering in the windows. I moved past the front door
to take a closer look. There were candles burning inside, and I could
hear faint music playing. It was obvious that Nicole was expecting
company. I wondered who the fuck it was this time. I wondered if
maybe Faye was coming over with some of her boy-toys so that they
could all get wild and dirty while my kids were sleeping upstairs.
Just as I was beginning to get seriously steamed, the back gate
squeaked open. A guy came walking through like he owned the fucking
place. He saw me and froze. He was young and good-looking,
with a thick head of black hair, and I tried to place him, hut I'd
never seen him before. I didn't even know his name: Ron Goldman.
"Who the fuck are you?" I said.
"I, uh—I just came by to return a pair of glasses," he replied,
stammering.
"Really? A pair of glasses, huh?"
"Yes," he said. He was carrying an envelope. "Judy left them at
the restaurant. I'm a waiter at Mezzaluna."
"So it's Judy, is it? You're on a first-name basis with Judy."
At that moment, the gate behind Goldman squeaked again.
Charlie walked into the narrow space. He was carrying the knife.
"Everything cool here?" he asked. "I saw this guy walking through
the gate, and I just wanted to make sure there wasn't going to be
any trouble."
"This motherfucker wants me to believe that he's here dropping
off a pair of Judy's glasses," I said.
"I am," Goldman said, appearing increasingly nervous. He
held up an envelope. "Look for yourself."
"And then what?" I said. 'You were going back to the resta
urant?"
"No," he said. "My shift's over. I'm just leaving these here and
going home."
"You expect me to believe that?"
"I don't expect anything," he said. "I'm telling you the truth."
"You're a fucking liar!" I shouted.
"I'm not. I swear to God."
"She's got candles burning inside. Fucking music playing.
Probably a nice bottle of red wine breathing on the counter, waiting
for you."
"Not for me," Goldman protested.
"Fuck you, man! You think I'm fucking stupid or something?!"
Suddenly the front door opened. Nicole came outside, alerted
by our raised voices. She was wearing a slinky little cocktail dress,
black, with probably not much on underneath. Her mouth fell
open in shock. She looked at me, and she looked at Goldman, and
she looked at Charlie, just beyond. Goldman was pretty well
trapped. Charlie stood between him and the rear gate, and I was
barring his way to the front.
"O.J., what the fuck is going on?"
I turned to look at Nicole. "That's what I want to know,"
I said.
Kato, the dog, came wandering out of the house. He saw me
and wagged his tail, then he saw Goldman and also wagged his tail.
I looked at Goldman, steamed, and Charlie moved closer, the knife
still in his hand. I think he sensed that things were about to get out
of control, because I was very close to losing it.
"I'm listening, motherfucker!" I said to Goldman.
"O.J.!" Nicole hollered. "Leave him the fuck alone! What are
you doing here, anyway? I thought you were going to Chicago."
"Fuck you," I said.
"Hey, man," Goldman said. "That's not necessary."
Charlie piped in. "Let's just get the fuck out of here, O.J."
"I asked you a question, motherfucker. What are you doing
here? You delivering drugs?"
"Leave him alone, O.J.!" Nicole shouted.
"I hear half - you assholes are dealing on the side," I said.
Nicole came at me, swinging. "Get the fuck out of here!" she
said. "This is my house and I can do what I want!"
"Not in front of my kids, you can't!"
"Fuck you!"
"No, fuck you. I gave you everything you could ask for, and
you fucked it all up."
She came at me like a banshee, all arms and legs, flailing, and
I ducked and she lost her balance and fell against the stoop. She fell
hard on her right side—I could hear the back of her head hitting
the ground—and lay there for a moment, not moving.
"Jesus Christ, O.J., let's get the fuck out of here!" Charlie said,
his voice cracking.
I looked over at Goldman, and I was fuming. I guess he
thought I was going to hit him, because he got into his little
karate stance. "What the fuck is that?" I said. "You think you can
take me with your karate shit?" He started circling me, bobbing
and weaving, and if I hadn't been so fucking angry I would have
laughed in his face.
"O.J., come on!" It was Charlie again, pleading.
Nicole moaned, regaining consciousness. She stirred on the
ground and opened her eyes and looked at me, but it didn't seenlike
anything was registering.
Charlie walked over and planted himself in front of me
blocking my view. "We are fucking done here, man—let's go!"
I noticed the knife in Charlie's hand, and in one deft move
I removed my right glove and snatched it up. "We're not going
anywhere," I said, turning to face Goldman. Goldman was still
circling me, bobbing and weaving, but I didn't feel like laughing
anymore.
"You think you're tough, motherfucker?" I said.
I could hear Charlie just behind me, saying something, urging
me to get the fuck out of there, and at one point he even reached
for me and tried to drag me away, but I shook him off, hard, and
moved toward Goldman. "Okay, motherfucker!" I said. "Show me
how tough you are!"
Then something went horribly wrong, and I know what happened,
but I can't tell you exactly how. I was still standing in
Nicole's courtyard, of course, but for a few moments I couldn't
remember how I'd gotten there, when I'd arrived, or even why I was
there. Then it came back to me, very slowly: The recital—with little
Sydney up on stage, dancing her little heart out; me, chipping
balls into my neighbor's yard; Paula, angry, not answering her
phone; Charlie, stopping by the house to tell me some more ugly
shit about Nicole's behavior. Then what? The short, quick drive
from Rockingham to the Bundy condo.
And now? Now I was standing in Nicole's courtyard, in the
dark, listening to the loud, rhythmic, accelerated beating of my
own heart. I put my left hand to my heart and my shirt felt
strangely wet. I looked down at myself. For several moments, I
couldn't get my mind around what I was seeing. The whole front of
me was covered in blood, but it didn't compute. Is this really blood?
I wondered. And whose blood is it? Is it mine? Am I hurt?
I was more confused than ever. What the hell had happened
here? Then I remembered that Goldman guy coming through the
back gate, with Juditha's glasses, and I remembered hollering at
him, and I remembered how our shouts had brought Nicole to
the door . . .
Nicole. Jesus.
I looked down and saw her on the ground in front of me,
curled up in a fetal position at the base of the stairs, not moving.
Goldman was only a few feet away, slumped against the bars of the
fence. He wasn't moving either. Both he and Nicole were lying in
giant pools of blood. I had never seen so much blood in my life. It
didn't seem real, and none of it computed. What the fuck happened
here? Who had done this? And why? And where the fuck was I when
this shit went down?
It was like part of my life was missing—like there was some
weird gap in my existence. But how could that be? I was standing
right there. That was me, right?
I again looked down at myself, at my blood-soaked clothes,
and noticed the knife in my hand. The knife was covered in blood,
as were my hand and wrist and half of my right forearm. That didn't
compute either. I wondered how I had gotten blood all over my
knife, and I again asked myself whose blood it might be, when suddenly
it all made perfect sense: This was just a bad dream. A very
bad dream. Any moment now, I would wake up, at home, in my
own bed, and start going about my day.
Then I heard a sound behind me and turned, startled. Charlie
was standing in the shadows, a few feet away, his mouth hanging
open, his breathing short and ragged. He was looking beyond me,
at the bodies.
"Charlie?" I called out. He didn't answer. "Charlie?" Still nothing.
I went over and stood in front of him and asked him the same
question I'd just asked myself. "Charlie, what the fuck happened
here?"
He looked up and met my eyes, but for several moments it
was as if he didn't really see me. "Are you listening to me?" I said. "I
asked you what happened here."
Charlie shook his head from side to side, his mouth still hanging
open, his breathing still short, ragged, and in a voice that was
no more than a frightened whisper, said, "Jesus Christ, O.J.—what
have you done?"
"Me?'
What the hell was he talking about? I hadn't done anything.
I jumped at a sound behind me—a high-pitched, almost
human wail. It was Kato, the dog, circling Nicole's body, his big
paws leaving prints in the wet blood. He lifted his snout and let out
another wail, and it sent chills up and down my spine. "Let's get the
fuck out of here," I said.
I hurried toward the rear gate, and moved through it, with
Charlie close behind, but I stopped myself before I crossed into the
alley. Charlie bumped into me and jumped back, startled. "What?"
he said.
I didn't answer. I was thinking about the shape I was in—I was
thinking of all the blood. My shirt and pants were sticking to my
skin. Even my shoes were covered in Hood.
I turned and looked behind me, beyond Charlie, and saw a
track of bloody, tell-tale prints. "I've got to get rid of these fucking
clothes," I said.
Without even thinking about it, I kicked off my shoes and
began to strip. I took off my pants and shirt, dropped the knife and
shoes into the center of the pile, and wrapped the whole thing into
a tight bundle. I left my socks on, though. I don't know why, but I
didn't see any blood on them, so I had no reason to remove them.
As I stood, with the bundle grasped in my left hand, I realized that
I'd left my keys and my wallet in my pants. I fell to a crouch and
dug for them and noticed that my hands were shaking.
Charlie stood there all the while, mumbling. "Jesus Christ,
O.J. Jesus Christ." He just kept repeating himself, like he'd lost his
goddamn mind or something.
"Will you shut the fuck up?!" I snapped. I found my keys and
my wallet, and rewrapped the bundle, then I stood and hurried
across the dark alley. Charlie followed, still mumbling. I got behind
the wheel and Charlie climbed into the passenger seat. "Jesus
Christ, O.J." he said. "Jesus Christ."
"WILL YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP!"
Charlie recoiled, startled, and shut up. I started the Bronco
and pulled out, the tires squealing, and raced through the curved
alley toward Montana Avenue. When I reached the end of the alley,
I made a left onto Montana and an immediate right at the corner,
onto Gretna Green. San Vicente was a block away, and I made a left
there and took it all the way to Bristol, then hung a right to Sunset
and made a left there, toward home.
I glanced at Charlie. He was hunched over, his elbows on his
knees, his face buried in his hands.
"What happened back there, Charlie?" I said.
Charlie sat up. His cheeks were wet with tears. He shook his
head from side to side and shrugged.
I thought back to that horrific scene at the courtyard, and to
all the blood. I had never seen so much blood in my life. It didn't
seem possible. It didn't seem real.
"Charlie?"
He still didn't answer, but what the hell—this wasn't really
happening. That hadn't been me back there. I'd imagined the whole
thing. I was imagining it then. In actual fact I was home in bed,
asleep, having one of those crazy crime-of-passion dreams, but I
was going to wake up any second now. Yeah—that was it!
Only I didn't wake up.

raikuli
Alibin satunnaislukija
Viestit: 69
Liittynyt: Ti Tammi 15, 2008 8:28 pm

O.J Otsikoissa

Viesti Kirjoittaja raikuli »

O.J. Simpsonia kuulustellaan tyttöystävän pahoinpitelystä
15.2.2008 11:23

Kaatumisen vuoksi sairaalaan joutuneen Christie Prodyn vammat viittaavat neurologin mukaan pahoinpitelyyn.

Simpsonin pitkäaikainen tyttöystävä Christie Prody, 32, kiidätettiin sairaalaan, kun hän pyörtyi huoltoasemalla ja löi päänsä. Simpson ei ollut paikalla tapahtumahetkellä.

Lääkärintutkimuksessa Prodyn kasvoilta, käsistä, jaloista ja takamuksesta löytyi useita suuria mustelmia ja ruhjeita.

O.J.:n mukaan Prody loukkaantui kaatuessaan humalassa. Asiasta ensimmäisenä uutisoinut National Enquirer kertoo, että poliisit eivät ole vakuuttuneita. Lääkärintarkastuksessa löytyneet vammat ovat vakavia ja sopivat paremmin pahoinpitelyyn.

Poliisi on kuulustellut Simpsonia tapahtuman johdosta.

Päävamman vuoksi Prodyllä saattaa olla edessään aivoleikkaus.

http://www.iltalehti.fi/ulkomaat/200802 ... 7_ul.shtml

Aizerbaidzan
Angus MacGyver
Viestit: 6651
Liittynyt: Su Touko 13, 2007 12:22 pm

Viesti Kirjoittaja Aizerbaidzan »

Simpson häkkiin vaan ja avain kaivoon.

system1
Alibin satunnaislukija
Viestit: 67
Liittynyt: Ti Touko 22, 2007 10:15 pm

Viesti Kirjoittaja system1 »

Kattoiko kukaan eilen MAX:lta tullutta ohjelmaa, jossa käsiteltiin tätä Simpson&Simpson&Goldman -hässäkkää. Itse en voinut katsoa sitä loppuun saakka, kun alkoi yksinkertaisesti pännimään Simpsonin puolustuksen selittelyt siitä miten tutkijat ja poliisit yms. media sotki rikospaikkaa ja sitä rataa..

Mielestäni puolustus ei edes pyrkinyt todistamaan simpsonin syyttömyyttä vaan etsimään vikoja tutkimuksista, jotta soppa saataisiin näyttämään sekavalta ja sitä kautta jollain pykälillä estämään OJ:n pitkähkö linnareissu.

Jos OJ pääsee vielä tästä uusimmasta episodistaan luistamaan, niin olen melko varma, että näitä OJ kämmäilyitä tullaan vielä jatkossakin näkemään ja kuulemaan. valitettavasti.

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