Read (1969) The Seven Minutes Online
Authors: Irving Wallace
Barrett shook Rodriguez’ hand as Duncan stood beside them.
‘Mr Rodriguez will be leaving us - he has an outside meeting -unless you need him here,’ said Duncan. ‘You said you wanted to discuss the - the - What was that fellow’s name?’
‘Ben Fremont,’ said Rodriguez.
‘Yes, Fremont,’ said Duncan. ‘Well, Victor Rodriguez is the man in charge of our pornography cases. Of course, like everything else, I review them, but if you’d prefer to have Mr Rodriguez sit in …’
“That won’t be necessary,’ said Barrett.
Quickly Rodriguez took leave of them. Duncan gestured toward two leather chairs facing the desk. ‘Sit down. Make yourself comfortable.’
Barrett went to one of the leather chairs and pulled it away from the shelves of law books and closer to the desk. Duncan had gone . behind the glass-topped desk and lowered himself into the leather swivel chair. He indicated a pitcher of water, but Barrett shook his head. Duncan offered a pack of cigarettes. ‘I’ll stay with my pipe, if you don’t mind,’ said Barrett.
Duncan lit his cigarette, while Barrett busied himself filling his English shell briar and then applying a match to the tobacco.
‘I guess this is the first time I’ve seen you outside Willard Osborn’s little palace,’ Duncan said. ‘How is Willard these days? I don’t have time for television, but everyone else seems to watch it, so I suppose he’s doing tolerably well.’
Barrett smiled. ‘I’d say he has no problems beyond Internal Revenue.’
‘I wish that were my only problem,’ said Duncan cheerfully. ‘You know, Willard Osborn’s one of the few wealthy men I’ve met whom I’d like even if he were poor. He’s very clever and entertaining.’
Barrett agreed. He was tempted to let the District Attorney know that he would shortly be a vice-president in the Osborn Enterprises, to impress him even more. But, as Duncan went on, Barrett
saw that it was not necessary to identify himself further with Osborn. Elmo Duncan was doing it for him. The District Attorney was recalling several of the Osborn dinner partiesat which Barrett had been present, and he was saying complimentary things about Faye, and then he was digressing into a long anecdote about a lawsuit in which Osborn had been involved and which was a perfect example of Osborn’s shrewdness.
Time was passing, and abruptly Elmo Duncan stopped, lit a fresh cigarette off the stub of the old one, rolled his swivel chair in tight to the desk, and said, ‘Enough of that. I’m sure you want to get down to business. What can I do for you, Mr Barrett?’
Barrett took the pipe from his mouth, emptied it into the ashtray on the desk. ‘You can do me a favor,’ he said.
‘You name it. Anything - within reason.’
‘I’m not here for Willard Osborn. I’m here representing another client, an old friend of mine in New York. Philip Sanford, the head of Sanford House, publisher of The Seven Minutes, that book -‘
‘I know. The Ben Fremont matter.’
‘Exactly.’ Barrett studied the handsome blond behind the desk. ‘Mr Duncan, may 1 ask, have you read the book?’
‘To be quite frank about it - no.’
‘Neither have I,’ said Barrett. ‘But a number of important critics and professors have read it and had written about it long before its first publication in the United States, and they have found considerable merit in it. This is not some piece of hard-core pornography created for commercial profit and dumped into drugstores and bookshops by some sleazy printer of filth out in Reseda or Van Nuys. This is the life’s work of a legendary figure of the thirties, and it is being published by one of the most renowned and prestigious firms in the book trade. This little action by the police this morning has caused my client some embarrassment and may cause him considerable financial hardship. So I thought it made sense to come up here and - ’
‘Let me see,’ said Elmo Duncan as he lifted a pile of manila folders from the edge of the desk. ‘Let me see what this is all about.’ He was checking the folder taps. ‘Here it is, “Fremont, Ben. Section 311.”’
He extracted the folder and set the others aside. Before opening it he said, ‘Of course, I’m sure you understand, we don’t make these arrests casually. They are always preceded by a careful investigation. I do know that after the complaint was received, Rodriguez and his aide - that’s Pete Lucas, who’s a specialist in pornography and a capable trial attorney to boot - both read the book in question with care. Well, let me see.’ He opened the folder and began scanning and turning the pages inside.
Barrett remained silent and busied himself with refilling and lighting his pipe. Puffing steadily, he waited.
When Duncan was through with the folder, he placed it on the
desk, and rubbed his chin. ‘Well, now, what I’m going to tell you is off the record, but what I think it comes down to is this. Mrs Olivia St Clair, president of the STDL in Oakwood, filed the complaint. Pete Lucas, and then Victor Rodriguez, as I said, read the novel. There was no question in their minds but that it was pornographic. The question was whether it was legally obscene by contemporary community standards.’
‘Since the book has been seized, I wanted to make that point,’ said Barrett quickly. ‘One, in Flaubert’s time, Madame Bovary was considered obscene. Today it’s merely a mild and sad story about an unfaithful wife. Why, recently I read a respectably published memoir of an anonymous Victorian gentleman - it was called My Secret Life - in which the author explicitly recounts how he “fucked” - his word - twelve hundred women of twenty-seven countries and eighty nationalities. The only one he missed, I think, was a Laplander.’
Duncan had been squirminguneasily, but now he forced a laugh.
‘That’s right,’ Barrett went on. ‘When that Victorian wrote his book, he couldn’t get it published. In our time it has been a best seller, and I don’t think it made-any reader’s hair turn white. Why ? Because times have changed. It’s a new ball game. As one professor pointed out, sexual activity is no longer contrary to the prevailing ethos. So why not write about sex as openly as it is being performed? I think it was Anatole France who said - of all sexual aberrations, chastity is the strangest.’
Duncan gave the slightest smile, but did not speak. He waited.
Since he still had the floor, Barrett decided to take advantage of it. ‘Nor do I think this openness about sex has hurt any of us in our country. Dr Steven Marcus once wrote about this new permissiveness. “It does not indicate to me moral laxness, or fatigue, or deterioration on the part of society. It suggests rather that pornography has lost its old danger, its old power.” I fully concur.’
The District Attorney stirred. ‘Well, there is a good deal of truth in much of what you say, but I can’t agree with it entirely. Perhaps some pornography has lost its old danger, but not all of it, I’m afraid. We could spend a day, a week maybe, arguing this highly complicated problem.’
‘Forgive me,’ said Barrett. ‘I didn’t intend to go on the way I did. We all get carried away sometime. I meant to confine myself to the Jadway book. I’ll admit that in the thirties, forties, fifties, The Seven Minutes might have been regarded as obscene, but today - ? Mr Duncan, have you been to the movies lately ? Have you seen for yourself, on the screen, acted out, not only copulation, but female masturbation, homosexuality, well, you name it? 1 only contend that today, to the average person, by contemporary community standards, by modern standards, the Jadway book is no more or less explicit than other works of far less artistic merit. So why the arrest?’
‘Yes, well, yes, that was the debatable point. But our people finally came to the decision they did for two reasons. A large group of average and community-minded women had made the complaint, thereby reflecting that this book had exceeded what is acceptable by contemporary standards -‘
‘Do you consider the kind of women who form a decency club as average?’ said Barrett acidly.
‘Of course I do,’ said Duncan with surprise. “They’re no different from any other women. They marry, have children, do housework, cook, entertain, read books. Certainly they ‘re as average as can be.’
Barrett wanted to challenge the District Attorney on this, but he realized that Duncan was sincere - hadn’t Abe Zelkin called him ‘honest’ and ‘square’ ? - and nothing would be gained by antagonizing him. Barrett kept his peace.
‘And if ladies like that, a big organization, a very big one - ‘ Duncan went on.
A big organization translated into a lot of voters, Barrett thought, remembering that Zelkin had also called the District Attorney ‘political.’
‘ - if they feel disturbed by this book, it tells us that maybe there are more people in Oakwood with high standards of decency than may be evident in the numbers who attend some of the films you mentioned. That was first in our minds. Second, and more import-, ant, was that we felt this whole outpouring of shock literature, disgusting sadomasochistic slime, was increasing and must be stopped, especially must be stopped so that it is not available to the young and impressionable. Perhaps, as you stated it, times have changed, moral boundaries have expanded, allowing for more candor and tolerance. Yet there are limits, there must be boundaries somewhere. Perhaps, as one Congregationalist clergyman so aptly put it, this country is suffering from an orgy of open-mindedness. I remember attending a speech delivered in the East by Pennsylvania Supreme Court Justice Michael Musmanno. In that address he said, ‘A wide river of filth is sweeping across the nation, befouling its shores and spreading over the land its nauseating stench. But what is most disturbing of all is that persons whose noses should be particularly sensitive to this olfactory assault do not smell it at all. I refer to District Attorneys and prosecuting officers throughout the nation.” Well, Mr Barrett, I’ve never forgotten those words. I intend to be one of the District Attorneys who does smell the stench.’
‘Certainly,’ said Barrett. ‘Everyone wants to do away with the smell of commercialized hard-core pornography -‘
Duncan held up his hand. ‘No. The sleazy back-street peddlers of hard-core pornography are not the ones we worry about. We worry that this same kind of obscene matter will be given respectability by notable imprints like Sanford House and become available in every bookstore. It is precisely because of Sanford’s reputation that we selected this Jadway book, to serve notice on the powerful publishers that this thing has reached its outer limit and must come to an end. Now, this was the basis for the arrest this morning. But actually, Mr Barrett, I don’t want to overstate our case or my feelings. I mean, specifically in the matter of Ben Fremont I don’t feel that strongly. I do feel strongly about the whole trend in literature and motion pictures in this country, but I had no intention of making the People versus Ben Fremont our cause celebre. No. We have more important crimes on our investigative agenda and court calendar. This is a relatively small thing.’
‘Well, then…’
‘It’s those women in Oakwood. They were pressuring our office, with some justification, and we had to satisfy them. I’m sure you can understand that.’
‘And with Fremont’s arrest you’ve satisfied them,’ said Barrett.
‘Right,’ said Duncan. ‘We’ve done our duty. But now, also, you have a client and you have a duty. I’m willing to be cooperative, within the limitations of what has already happened. The arrest has been made. The accused has been booked. You’ve got him out on bail. What’s the next step you have in mind?’
Barrett drew on his pipe, and watched the smoke billow upward. At last he leaned against the desk. ‘I want to be reasonable, too, Mr Duncan. I think this would satisfy my client. I would like to see Ben Fremont plead guilty and have him pay a fine of twenty-four hundred dollars, but in return his one-year jail sentence might be suspended. If that trade could be arranged, that would satisfy us.’
‘Mmm, well, if that could be arranged, you do understand that entering a plea of guilty would be tantamount to a banning of The Seven Minutes throughout Oakwood. All the other bookstores in Oakwood would be afraid of the STDL and of our proceeding against them also.’
‘We don’t give a damn about Oakwood,’ said Barrett. ‘Let it be unavailable there. In that way, you’ve satisfied the STDL in that community. Since Oakwood is an unincorporated part of Los Angeles County, a separate area even though it comes under your jurisdiction, it means the book could be suppressed there but would still be sold elsewhere in Los Angeles County.’
“That’s right.’
‘Very well. My client is interested in the rest of Los Angeles County, and the effect of any action in Los Angeles on booksellers in other large cities around the country. If the book can remain on sale in most of Los Angeles County, that’s all that counts. As for Oakwood, no one in that community will any longer be offended by seeing the book there. And those who want the book can drive a few blocks farther, to Brentwood or Westwood or some other nearby section of Los Angeles, and buy it. That’s what it come to. And in a week or two the book will be on sale in the large cities throughout the nation, and it will have its acceptance. The shock of
it will be mitigated by this acceptance, and there won’t be any further trouble over it. There you have it, Mr Duncan.’
Barrett waited.
Elmo Duncan stubbed out his cigarette, came to his feet thoughtfully, thrust his hands into his trouser pockets, and walked slowly around the area between the swivel chair and the shelves of massive legal tomes lining the wall.
Abruptly he stopped his pacing.
‘Mr Barrett, what you’ve suggested sounds reasonable enough to me.’
‘Good.’
‘We’ll satisfy those ladies. As for Lucas and Rodriguez, they’re so immersed in this sort of thing, I’m sometimes inclined to think they’re oversensitive to every word they read. Of course, it’s understandable. They have to field complaints almost daily. They must answer the complainants, like the group in Oakwood. But I know I can contain my assistants. In fact, I could come to an agreement with you right here and now about reducing the charges, except that I owe my staff the courtesy of discussing this with them first, since they’ve given the case so much of their time. But I quite agree. This is a nuisance matter, a routine matter, and we can treat it routinely. So let’s give ourselves until tomorrow, Mr Barrett. Let me smooth any ruffled feathers, and when that is done you can enter your guilty plea, and I can promise you that I’ll speak to the judge and the result will be no more than the fine and a suspended jail sentence. Fair enough?’