Columnist Bob Shemeligian: Now Marcia's throwing the book at us

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WITHOUT a doubt, the trial of the century goes on.

Perhaps not in the Los Angeles criminal courts building. But everywhere else, the People vs. Orenthal James Simpson lives on -- thanks to Marcia Clark's newest addition to the library of books on the Simpson trial.

Clark is the woman who will forever be known as the prosecutor who lost the Simpson case. She is now retired from Los Angeles District Attorney's office.

"As I saw it, the Simpson trial had ruined me as a prosecutor," Clark says in "Without a Doubt," her account of the trial that galvanized the nation and subjected her to the scrutiny of the "media's relentless klieg lights."

Clark, who again is the focus of news cameras, tells us she was paid $4.2 million by the Viking publishing company to "finally tell us what we've been waiting to hear: the truth."

Well, being a full-time journalist and a part-time landlord, I don't get to hear the truth very often. So I rushed down to Borders Book Shop to pick up a copy.

"Oh my god, it's 500 pages," I told the young woman behind the counter after she handed me the book.

"Yes," she replied. "It's even longer than Marcia's closing argument during the trial -- if that's possible."

And as I read through the pages, images from the trial came back like dour-faced Rosa Lopez returning from El Salvador.

As I raced through a few pages at a stoplight, I thought, has it really been three years since the murders of Nicole Brown Simpson and Ronald Goldman?

Just then, a Metro motorcycle officer pulled up beside me and asked if I was stupid enough to try to read and drive at the same time.

"You've got it all wrong, officer," I said with a smile as the book dropped between my legs. "I'm absolutely, 100 percent not guilty."

After the officer cited me for failure to use due care, and for offering the flimsiest defense he had ever heard, I was again on my way -- to a casino poker room.

It was there that I stole furtive glances at the book buried in my lap while playing a hand.

Two players, who noticed I was distracted, raised the pot. Immediately I looked up and shouted to the entire table that I would call the obvious bluffs from the "twin devils of deception."

I lost the pot, but I felt justice was served.

Later, as I was sitting in front of a slot machine reading about how Marcia wore her skirts just above the knees and carried a Smith & Wesson in her pocketbook, I noticed an elderly woman trying to slide one of those white gloves over her right hand.

"Here, let me help you," I told her. "Obviously, the glove doesn't fit."

She summoned security and accused me of trying to steal her plastic cup full of quarters.

"Come on, guys," I told the burly guards as they led me to the back room. "Check out her story. If it don't fit, you must acquit!"

"We don't have to do anything," one of the guards said as he sat me down. "You can explain everything to Phil and Tom, our two heads of security when they get here."

"Their names again?" I asked.

"Phil Vannatter and Tom Lange," the security guard replied. "They've been with us about a year and a half. And by the way, I'd get rid of that book if I were you. I hear it's not on their preferred reading list."

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