PEOPLE

By David E. Thigpen

BLACK TIE, BUT PRESUMABLY NO GLOVES

To the Brentwood mansion they came: a sacked juror, a jailbird lawyer and assorted other apostles of O.J. SIMPSON, all for a black-tie dinner to oppose domestic violence and, not least, to rub elbows with the Juice. With security provided by the Nation of Islam, the night was one of image repair for America's most dubiously innocent man. Attorney F. Lee Bailey, fresh from the slammer, pronounced his own jail stay "not so great." Simpson pal and chauffeur A.C. Cowlings seemed proud when a guest praised his driving. Outside Simpson's gates protesters clamored, but inside, Simpson charmed the antiviolence folks. If you can't beat them, have them over for dinner.

A LOSE-LOSE STRATEGY

Actress HALLE BERRY'S divorce from Atlanta Braves outfielder DAVID JUSTICE is now entering extra innings. When Justice filed for divorce in April (two weeks after Berry filed, citing "irreconcilable differences"), his attorney predicted a settlement in 30 to 60 days. Wrong. Justice, who pulls down $6 million a year with the Braves, is suing Berry for alimony. "I figured since she wants to take all of my money, I should turn around and do the same to her."

SEEN & HEARD

Thrice married to wealthy men, Washington socialite Georgette Mosbacher obviously knows how to find the right spouse. She also knows how to keep him. A few weeks ago, her marriage to former Commerce Secretary Robert Mosbacher hit the rocks. But last week he withdrew the divorce papers, and the couple was seen enjoying a reconciliation dinner in New York City.

After months of wooing by major news organizations, globetrotting correspondent Christiane Amanpour announced she will stay put at CNN while adding something new to her portfolio: she'll soon begin contributing to CBS's 60 Minutes. The unprecedented deal will reportedly earn her $2 million a year--and even greater exposure. Said she: "It is a journalist's dream."

IRONS IN THE FIRE

Two dozen theater lovers--who happen to be deaf--had eagerly plunked down $10 each for a live reading of Lolita at 40 by film star JEREMY IRONS in New York City. It was to be delivered with the help of a sign-language interpreter. But the group walked out en masse before a word was spoken. As the New York Daily News reported, Irons insisted that the interpreter move to one side so as not to distract the 300 hearing audience members. Then he lost his cool. "Why would deaf people attend a reading?" he snapped. "It's like a blind person wanting to attend ballet."

SHE'S HIT THE ROAD, JACK

Just weeks after filing for divorce from her husband and manager Jack Gordon, LATOYA JACKSON has fled to an L.A. safe house--"far away from Jack"--where she is describing their marriage as short on love and long on intimidation. "He would beat me, threaten me, put a knife to my neck," says Jackson. "I was afraid if I left him he would kill me." Jackson wed the ex-con in 1989 and plunged into a string of profitable but cheapening enterprises, including launching a psychic hotline and posing for Playboy. "He controlled all my bank accounts," Jackson says. "I couldn't cash a check." She says she called it quits when Gordon insisted that she perform in a porno flick. So one morning as he showered, she dashed to a waiting car driven by her brother Randy, who spirited her away. Gordon, who has been convicted of attempted bribery and conspiracy to commit pandering, says, "Latoya is a liar, an absolute liar."

DOWNEY AND OUT

After scoring an Oscar nomination for his performance in Chaplin four years ago, ROBERT DOWNEY JR. seemed on the verge of becoming the next Robert De Niro. Now Hollywood is worried that he may instead become the next River Phoenix. Stopped by police as he sped through Malibu in his truck last weekend, Downey was found to be carrying a small pharmacy of illegal drugs--crack, heroin--and, police said, a heavy-duty handgun. The hard-partying actor has been through rehab at least once since the late 1980s, but friends recently became alarmed at his downward spiral. A few weeks ago, Sean Penn and Matthew Modine arrived at Downey's L.A. home to attempt a rescue mission. "Sean told Robert he had better clean himself up," says a source, "and offered to take him wherever he needed for help." Downey agreed but then slipped away when Penn wasn't looking.