[running through an alternate 'cover-up' scenario; holding up a glass]
Marcia Clark: Here's the crime scene, Bundy.
[holding another glass]
Marcia Clark: Here's O.J.'s house. Okay. Furhman made up his mind at Bundy that Simpson did it. Even though he had no idea if O.J. had an iron-clad alibi that would then ruin Furhman's career and land him in jail. Furhman takes the glove at Bundy, makes sure it has Goldman and Nicole's DNA on it, jumps in the car with the other detectives, heads to Rockingham with it, where he gets into the Bronco - *somehow* - getting all that evidence in it, including Simpson's blood. Even though the police didn't *have* Simpson's blood until the next day. Then he goes over the wall, plants the glove behind Kato's room. Then, with the help of the rest of his super-secret cabal of O.J.-hating racist cops, he starts getting everything just so, just where it needs to be. Nicole and Ron and O.J.'s blood into O.J.'s bedroom. O.J's blood back to Bundy. Oh, and O.J's Bronco's fibres back to Bundy, too. Oh, and they don't forget to get rid of the *real* killer's blood from the back gate, no, no, no, and replace it with O.J.'s blood. Then O.J's sock, they get that back to Bundy to pick up all the blood, and then get that sucker right back to Rockingham, too. These guys are a well-oiled conspiracy machine after all. All this during a time when everyone involved is under the most relentless media scrutiny in American history.
[Marcia imitates an explosion]
Christopher Darden: And all of this for an unknown killer.
Darrell: ...Maybe.
Marcia Clark: [exasperated] No!
