(1969) The Seven Minutes (10 page)

The ritual was one sip and swallow each, and the meeting would be under way. Yerkes took up his armagnac, and the others reached for their drinks.

Duncan enjoyed the warming brandy and watched the pair on the sofa. No two men were more different. Underwood was a quiet, factual man, the perfect mathematical product of an age of communications. Blair was a raucous extrovert, full of exaggerated fancies, the perfect image-maker for this same age. Facts and figures provided precise weekly information on what people out there were concerned with and interested in, and this information could then be catalyzed by fancies and inventions into giving the

people out there an approximation of what they wanted. The pair were partners. They represented the brains of Underwood Associates. Underwood was one of America’s most respected directors of private public-opinion polls taken for politicians and industrialists. He had established Underwood Associates. Later, realizing that he required an adjunct to his business that would implement his findings, thus giving his wealthy clients a complete service, he had taken Irwin Blair into partnership.

Blair had started out as a Hollywood publicity man, but he had been too talented and creative to confine himself to show business. When an actor he handled had determined to run for the United States House of Representatives despite the gibes of his colleagues, Blair had risen to the challenge. Because the actor had been charming and attractive, an actor, Blair had exposed him to endless rounds of handshaking and personal appearances, and because the actor had been slow-witted and superficially informed, an actor, Blair had made him keep his mouth shut and permitted him to open it only to smile. Blair had invented a half-dozen simplified slogans and credited them to the actor in advertisements, in pamphlets, on billboards. Then Blair had gone to work destroying his client’s opponent, and in this he had adopted the brilliant earlier techniques used by a firm known as Campaigns, Incorporated, while it had been headed by the ingenious man-and-wife team of Clem Whitaker and Leone Baxter whom Blair worshiped. Whitaker and Baxter had been retained to defeat Upton Sinclair when he ran for governor of California. They had sought to divert attention from Sinclair’s attractive program and instead focus attention on what were made to seem apparent threats in his earlier writings. They had hired a cartoonist to draw thirty cartoons showing the more desirable aspects of California life; then they had him smear a blob of black paint over part of each sweet American scene, and within each blob had been implanted a truncated quotation from Upton Sinclair that made him appear a monster and an anarchist. Upton Sinclair had been defeated. Imitating Whitaker and Baxter, Irwin Blair had demolished his actor client’s opponent. The actor had become a congressman by a total vote of three to one. Thereafter Blair had promoted himself from his job as publicity man for entertainment personalities to public-relations consultant for politicians. Soon enough he had joined up with Harvey Underwood.

Three months ago, at an astronomical fee, Luther Yerkes had retained the services of Underwood and Blair on behalf of the candidacy of Elmo Duncan.

Watching them now, Duncan was once more uneasy, as he had been since the day Yerkes had hired them. He hated manipulation, of other people, of himself. These men were in the business of sampling the feelings and desires of the public and playing on those feelings and desires, and in this conspiracy Duncan felt himself merely an instrument. It wasn’t dishonest, but it felt dishonest. He

hated it, but he went along because even his wife said that he was being too square as usual, and because he wanted to be more than a mere county district attorney.

Underwood was rattling his yellow pages, a prelude to reading off the results of the tabulated findings of his trained interviewers throughout the state who had questioned a thousand persons - a stratified random sampling, scientifically based on the sex, age, religion, race, occupation of each person questioned. Out of these pollings the four of them had tried to find issues with which the public was concerned and to which Duncan might devote himself both in his present office and in his increasing public-speaking engagements. When they had agreed on an issue, they tried to decide how Duncan could make use of it. After that it was Blair’s task to make the public aware that Duncan’s interests coincided with their own, and that he was ready to champion them and solve their problems.

The first goal, Yerkes had pointed out three months ago, was to make Elmo Duncan’s name known to the entire voting population of the state. He must become as well known as was his opponent, Senator Nickels. Once this had been accomplished, work would proceed on making his image more attractive and the incumbent’s image less attractive. But the wider exposure of Duncan’s name was still the primary problem. Duncan was fairly prominent in Southern California, largely because of that last murder case he had prosecuted so brilliantly. But he still remained a local figure, ‘a provincial hero,’ as Yerkes put it. He must become a statewide hero, as well known and worshiped in Fresno, San Francisco, Sacramento, in Salinas, Sonora, Eureka, as he was in Los Angeles.

‘Elmo needs one big, big court case, one headliner,’ he now heard Yerkes say to Underwood, repeating what Yerkes had been saying for weeks. ‘You’ve got to ccSme up with something, Harvey, something that is real and that can work.’

Duncan found himself nodding in agreement.

A big case involving a vital issue. That was the crux of it.

Underwood rattled his yellow sheets once more. ‘I can’t alter facts, Mr Yerkes. I have here our latest sampling. We are not questioning the public on international issues yet. We are still confining ourselves to what the registered voters in this state are concerned about domestically. And I must report again that by far the biggest concern our public has - by more than thirty percentage points over taxation and education - is their concern about violence in the streets. That is to say, the worry is about lawlessness, danger, unrest, not just racial, not just organized crime, but the violence engendered by the uncontrolled younger generation. I am not generalizing. You know that I never generalize. Our secondary questions about this concern over violence try to uncover reasons why our subjects feel this condition exists. The same reasons are still being given. We had worked on two of the reasons and couldn’t

develop an issue, a meaningful issue, for Mr Duncan. Two weeks ago we went to work on the third one, the feeling that much of this youthful violence and thread stems from or is provoked by the overt salacity in reading matter and films in theaters and on television. Well, we agreed that such a thread came within Elmo’s province, that it was something he could work on, and our discussion coincided with the appearance of that book that had been brought to Elmo’s attention. Then we agreed he was to try to implement the California Criminal Code on censorship, use the book as an issue to build a statewide case in which he was going to fight the … the …’

‘The publishing Mafia subverting morals,’ volunteered Irwin Blair.

‘Yes,’ said Underwood, ‘and by this act and the trial that might follow it, he would become known as a protector of the young and the old, and an enemy of violence-inciting literature. We agreed to try that -‘

‘We did not agree,’ Duncan interrupted. “The three of you agreed. I was against it from the start.’

‘You went along with us,’ Yerkes reminded Duncan mildly. ‘In the end, you agreed to try it.’

‘Well, of course, but -‘ Duncan began.

‘And now I am given to understand that you have tried it,’ resumed Understood. ‘Mr Yerkes tells me that you finally made an arrest this morning. Don’t you think, before we discuss any new steps, that we should wait to -‘

‘No,’ said Duncan flatly. ‘I am here to talk about that very censorship angle, and I want to talk about it right now. I repeat, I didn’t like the angle from the start, and I still don’t like it. Now I’ve been proved right by the press reaction. It should be plain to all of us that the whole thing is a flop. So let’s forget it and go on to something with more promise.’

Irwin Blair wagged his hand. ‘Hold it, Elmo. Aren’t you being a little impatient? Maybe this Section 311 gimmick will catch on gradually. I admit it didn’t go off like a rocket, but -‘

‘It fizzled, it flopped, and it’s a dud,’ said Duncan with emphasis. He got up automatically, because he was always more effective on his feet. ‘You’re a great one for facts, Harvey. Well, so am I. We charge a book with being obscene, and we arrest a bookseller under Section 311 for purveying an obscene work. Of the four newspapers I’ve seen since this morning, three barely mentioned the arrest, while one didn’t bother to do even that. Of the three that mentioned it, one ran two paragraphs on page six, and the other two gave it a paragraph somewhere near either the want ads or the obituaries.’

Irwin Blair came forward so fast he almost tumbled off the sofa. ‘Look, if you’re blaming me,’ he said defensively, ‘I’ve got to point

out that I’ve tried. I alerted the press. They promised to give it space. I can’t control what finally goes on in the city room. It must’ve been cut down or crowded out by hotter news. But at least two news commentators mentioned it on television.’

‘Calm down, Irwin.’ It was Yerkes. ‘No one is blaming you for the lack of attention this received. Elmo isn’t blaming you, and neither am I. Let’s not waste our valuable time and energies on personal bickering. Elmo is right. We must confine ourselves to facts.’

Blair sat back disgruntled, as Elmo Duncan moved behind his chair and then turned to the others. ‘Yes fact, gentlemen. The harsh fact is that censorship is not a dramatic issue, because the average man, even though he will grumble about the dangers of provocative smut, finds it difficult to relate a book to all the crimes in the streets. A book is inanimate. To begin with, not enough people know books or read them. And when they do, it is difficult for them to realize that printed pages can in any way threaten their security or their personal lives. In fact, some of them may resent us for interfering with their right to read what they wish or to be titillated by what they read. By interfering in this way, we’ve satisfied only a handful of bluenoses and Grundys who couldn’t swing an election one way or another. Look, I sincerely believe some of the. salacious stuff found today in books passing as literature is evil and corruptive, and my office fries to ciamp down on the worst of it. But what I believe about this has nothing to do with the possibility of turning censorship censoring a book, into a major problem of passionate concern to the, general public. Moreover, initiating this kind of indictment is hardly image-building. What does it do at best ? It pits the District Attorney of a great city against some title two-bit bookseller and against some obscure printed words that not one person in a thousand will ever read or maybe even hear about. Gentlemen, that’s a wild mismatch, and it makes me look like a bully. Fortunately not many people out there are going to know about it, because it was too dull an issue to get space. I say we’ve got a dead issue, and I suggest we bury it as fast as possible. In fact, I half promised this bookseller’s counsel I’d let the case expire quickly and quietly. Gentlemen, believe me, you’re not going to excite millions of voters with the proposition that a book can do them grave harm.’

‘But a book can do grave harm.’ It was Harvey Underwood speaking from the far end of the sofa. Duncan looked at him sharply, and the other two gave him their attention. Underwood pawed at one bushy eyebrow. ‘I was thinking,’ he went on. ‘As you were speaking, Elmo, I was thinking of books that have been earthquakes, have moved masses of men and whole civilizations to do evil, to create change, to become good. How many millions of human beings died because of a book called Mein Kampf, by Adolf Hitler? How many people died or were enslaved because of

a book called Das Kapital, by Karl Marx? How much violence was instigated, for better or for worse, by a pamphlet or book called Common Sense, by Thomas Paine; by an essay in a book called Civil Disobedience, by Henry Thoreau; by a book called Uncle Tom’s Cabin, by Harriet Beecher Stowe?’ He paused. ‘Elmo, don’t underestimate the incendiary power of a book.’

Duncan frowned, knuckles tightening on the back of the chair. ‘I won’t argue with you about those books, about some books. However, you’ve left out one factor. Those books you mentioned - they were effective in creating or helping create violence, revolutions, wars, protest, because each was linked directly to an immediate need among masses of people. Those books fulfilled or agitated or inflamed because they were aimed at live issues. Hitler’s book told the Germans why they were in trouble and showed them how to get out of it. Marx’s book gave a hungry Russia, ripe for revolution, a recipe for eating again. Thoreau’s writings gave Gandhi a new weapon stronger than British arms, and it freed his country, and this same Thoreau essay gave American youth the same weapon to use in resisting the military clique in the United States. Certainly a book that is explosive can be used as a piece of dynamite. But what are we working with? What have we got? An obscene sex novel written by an author long dead. A nation filled with people frightened for their lives because of lawlessness and violence. Can we say to those people - We’re going to convict this book and those like it, and once we’ve put it away all of your fears will vanish, or most of them will vanish, because you’ll be safer ? We can say that, certainly, and it would probably be partially true, but I assure you no one is going to believe it. If you haven’t got believers, you haven’t got a crusade. Without a crusade, you can’t make a hero.’ Duncan came slowly back to the coffee table, where he halted. ‘That’s why we’re here, isn’t it ?’ he said, in a half-mocking tone to alleviate his embarrassment. ‘To make Elmo Duncan a hero?’

‘Elmo, sit down,’ said Luther Yerkes. ‘You’ve spoken your piece, now sit down and finish your drink and let me speak my piece.’ He slowly took off his bluish glasses and squinted at the others. ‘I’ve heard your side, Harvey and Irwin. I’ve listened to your side, Elmo, Let me be the judge.’ He addressed himself directly to the pair on the sofa. ‘Elmo Duncan has done everything we’ve asked of him. He has cooperated. We suggested he initiate the censorship issue as a trial balloon, to see if it would take hold. As District Attorney, Elmo acted. But he was seriously hampered, in a public-relations sense, by our Criminal Code. He was firing at a pornographic book, and a big one, but the law forced him to aim at the vendor of the book, smaller game. The newspapers were not impressed. Even those two television mentions of the arrest - to be truthful, I arranged one of them, I left a personal message with Willard Osborn’s secretary saying that 1 would appreciate it if one of his stations covered it. Nothing much else, especially nothing