American Crime Story

Today, in Trial O.J...

lawyers argued over whether the former Heisman winner

is an arthritic cripple incapable of murder.

He has bad knees, arthritis and limited mobility.

He may look like Tarzan,

but he moves like Tarzan's grandfather.

After that, the jury got a peek

at an exercise video Simpson taped

just two weeks before the murders.

Aw, break it all the way down!

Feel it in the knees!

Yeah. Love that intensity!

- And if you're working out with your wife... - Hello.

Is this Laura Hart McKinny?

Yes. How may I help you?

The Laura Hart McKinny who used to live in Los Angeles,

who has tapes of LAPD Officer Mark Fuhrman?

How did you find me?

I'm an investigator working for O.J. Simpson.

We believe our client is innocent

and your tapes could really help him.

Well, I don't want to help him.

Look, I was just writing a screenplay

about the LAPD.

I met Mark,

and I interviewed him for research.

So there are tapes.

What does he say?

How inflammatory is it?

I never asked to be a part of this.

So, on the night of the murders, you were in an alleyway

behind Bundy Drive and you heard a commotion

near Nicole Brown Simpson's condominium?

Yes. I-I heard two men arguing.

The first man said, "Hey, hey, hey!"

and the second man yelled at him.

Uh, he was hard to understand.

And did the second voice

sound as if it was older, more mature than the first?

Calls for speculation, Your Honor.

Sustained. Foundational.

All right, then.

The second voice

that you heard, it sounded like

the voice of a black man, is that correct?

- Object to, Your Honor! I object! - Sustained.

This is ridiculous!

Sustained. Mr. Darden, where are you going with this?

Your Honor,

I was asking in good faith.

We know that the witness told a friend

that he heard the angry yell of an older man

who sounded black.

I resent that statement, Your Honor!

You cannot tell by somebody's voice whether they are black.

That is a racist statement

and entirely inappropriate.

Your Honor, yeah, I am offended that in America,

in 1995, that we have to endure

this kind of thinking.

All right, I didn't make the statement.

The witness did.

Oh, please, Mr. Darden!

I... if this is the witness' statement,

then he is the racist, not me.

But that is what you're suggesting.

Hey, hey, hey! I suggest nothing!

- Oh, yes, you did! - I did not.

- Yes, you did. - Don't put words in my mouth!

And that has created a lot of problems

for myself and for my family.

You continually make statements

about me and race, Mr. Cochran...

Wait. Wait, all right, stop it, both of you!

This is all improper. And I'm so mad at both of you guys

right now, I'm about to hold the two of you in contempt.

Let's take a recess so you can cool off.

We will resume in 15.

What was that?

He is so cynical.

I mean, of course there's such a thing as a "black voice."

- There are accents, speech patterns... - I know that.

But look what happened.

His witness was failing,

so Johnnie threw a racial stink bomb

to deflect attention.

That guy saw a Bronco near Bundy.

He heard two men arguing outside the condo.

But now the jury has completely forgotten that.

Is it true?

Yeah. Tapes exist.

I think they're really ugly.

They have phrases like, uh...

Stuff like... "Get niggers." "Frame niggers."

"Plant evidence."

Jesus Christ.

- Can we confirm the authenticity? - I've asked around.

Her lawyers have shopped the tapes to London papers,

TV tabloids... they've heard snippets.

Supposedly there's an offer on the table

for 250 grand.

Hmm. Why doesn't she sell?

Well, that's the strange part.

She doesn't actually care about the money.

She'd rather sell her screenplay.

She's a screenwriter.

Or, well, a wannabe screenwriter.

She was living in L.A.

She couldn't make a living,

so she moved to North Carolina to teach screenwriting.

I don't understand.

How can you teach screenwriting

if you can't sell a script?

Oh, Barry, Barry...

Gentlemen, you are missing the point.

I don't care who she is or what she does.

What matters are these tapes.

We must get them.

"Get niggers"?

"Frame niggers"? That takes my breath away.

These tapes will allow Mr. Simpson to walk free.

Well, let's not get... too cocky.

I mean, we haven't heard them.

Look, lucky breaks don't just fall from the sky.

Oh, yes, they do, Mr. Scheck.

God brought us these tapes.

There is something much larger at play here.

This is manna from heaven.

What is the defense doing?

They got Ito to sign a subpoena for what?

13 hours of tape in North Carolina.

I don't follow.

Who is this woman?

It just makes no sense

why Fuhrman would blab to an unemployed screenwriter.

Why would Fuhrman do anything?

I'm not gonna pretend like I'm surprised.

Whatever's on these tapes scares me.

Well, maybe it's meritless.

Fiction. Just Fuhrman and this writer playacting.

The defense has been obsessed

with creating stories for the jury,

and lawyers resort to stories to distract from the facts...

You know, Marcia, people like stories.

It helps them make sense of things.

Shit.

Now who can deny there isn't a higher power watching over us?

I spent my life fighting for a cause

and then, in the biggest case of all time,

with the whole world watching,

a magical piece of paper appears.

Well, we still need to get a judge

in North Carolina

to enforce the subpoena.

A small technicality.

I will venture forth to secure our bounty.

Well, obviously, I will accompany you.

I mean, I discovered Fuhrman, for God's sake.

I mean, I invented him.

Hang on, Bob. I won every Fuhrman motion.

Gentlemen, we still have a case here in L.A.

I don't understand.

Why do more than two people

have to get on the plane?

Then it should be me.

I have a winning record in that jurisdiction.

I tried over 200 cases there.

200?

Really? When?

Seems like yesterday.

But understand this:

things change really slowly down South.

And I know the Carolinas

like I know the caramel color in a single-barrel

apple brandy,

sipped over the blush of the morning sunrise.

Oh, come on. Really?

I hired all of you.

You know, whatever.

I don't grovel.

Just make sure you put my name on the brief.

Thank you, Bob.

This is it.

All right, let's go.

Here are the transcripts.

The judge will see you gentlemen shortly.

- Thank you. - Thank you, sir.

My friend, I can taste victory.

Yes. Yes.

- Shall we? - Yes.

It's unbelievable.

It's horrible.

Horrible we can sell.

Look, the bastard is nailed. Dead.

He directly contradicts the trap I laid

- when he testified. - Lee...

it's more than that.

It's evil.

But this is what black people have always known.

And now