Who Are These Guys Anyway?

By Jill Smolowe

Aficionados of the O.J. Simpson case can be forgiven if in recent weeks they've had trouble keeping track of just why the former football star could not possibly have killed ex-wife Nicole and her friend Ronald Goldman. First there was the bloody-glove theory, in which a police detective was supposed to have planted a mitt on O.J. Simpson's property. Then there was the mystery witness, later identified as a con artist, who saw two white men fleeing Nicole's house around the time of the slayings. Last week came the mysterious frozen-dessert theory, which goes something like this: shortly before the murders, Nicole stopped at a Ben & Jerry's, picked up some ice cream -- or yogurt -- and brought it to her condo, where it was allegedly found around midnight, still frozen. If so, then the defense might try to argue that Nicole and Goldman were still alive when O.J. left for the airport at around 11 that night.

But the frozen-dessert evidence is mild stuff compared with the theory provided to TIME last week by a defense-team lawyer. "I think this is the work of a Colombian-type killer," he asserted. "When you see a throat cut nearly through to the spinal cord, that's often a message that the voice box has offended, or is expected to."

This blitz of intriguing, if often contradictory, speculation was interrupted briefly last Thursday by the news that the defendant was taken from his jail cell to Cedars-Sinai Medical Center, suffering from swollen lymph nodes in his armpits and episodes of night sweats. Doctors will analyze the nodes for cancer, a disease that runs in the former football star's family. The results are expected early this week.

Simpson's hospital visit was a sharp dose of reality in what has otherwise been a month of rumors, innuendo and wild theories. While any good criminal- defense team is expected to do its best to create reasonable doubt about its client's alleged guilt, what makes the Simpson squad stand out is the lengths to which it tries to use the media to mount its counteroffensive. Lead attorney Robert Shapiro may be the master spinner, but he counts on a formidable team of private investigators to dig up information that will help his case. Heading this team is a seasoned duo of private eyes. Ex-New York City cop John McNally, 60, is the tough guy, with a reputation for playing hard, dirty and on the side of the Mob. Vietnam vet Pat McKenna, 45, is the boy scout who loves his kids, baseball and a good laugh over a few beers. Both have lent their expertise to celebrated cases; both have a reputation for extreme thoroughness.

, Of the two, McNally is by far the more colorful -- and controversial. Before retiring from the New York police department in 1971, he collected 22 commendations and attained top standing as a first-grade detective, despite several internal investigations into his conduct. He is credited with collaring notorious jewel thief Jack ("Murph the Surf") Murphy in 1964. Since going private, McNally has provided his services to the defense of Patty Hearst, Bernhard Goetz and John Gotti. Defense attorney F. Lee Bailey, who is also part of the Simpson team, has tapped McNally's services regularly, as have other top attorneys. "He's the defense lawyer's ultimate secret weapon," says a high-ranking member of the N.Y.P.D. "The only dark side of his life is that he's in the business of keeping people out of jail who should be in jail."

There is no question that McNally has stepped on a lot of toes, including those of federal prosecutors. "McNally was a trusted confidant of high-level Gambino crime-family members," says Assistant U.S. Attorney David Shapiro. The FBI has investigated McNally several times but has never brought criminal charges. Law-enforcement sources told TIME that McNally is the target of a current FBI investigation. Asked about this latest probe, McNally responded that he is considering filing a suit against the FBI. "Of course they're not going to like me," he says. "I show up in every big case."

McKenna, by contrast, is praised as a prince of a guy with a sterling record. Criminal defense attorney Richard Lubin, who has hired McKenna dozens of times, insists, "He's the kind of guy you'd have baby-sit your kids, and you'd come home and he'd be on the floor cutting paper dolls with them." In 1991, however, McKenna was more likely to be found at the bar of the Brazilian Court Hotel in Palm Beach, dishing dirt to reporters about the woman who unsuccessfully pressed date-rape charges against his client, William Kennedy Smith.

According to the Simpson team, one member was recently fired on suspicion that he had planted stories in the press. That's not likely to end the leaks, of course. "The big hurrah in this case is you fellas still don't know what's in ((Simpson's police)) statement," says Bailey of the press. Any hints? "I'll simply say the statement will play a critical role in the defense." Along with such tantalizing hints from the attorneys, you can count on McNally and McKenna to keep digging.

With reporting by Richard Behar/New York and Elaine Lafferty and Jeffrey Ressner/Los Angeles