Barrett had given Maggie no decision on Saturday night.
Throughout Sunday, from waking to sleeping, he had weighed the pros and cons of the proposed trade.
Pro: a living Cassie McGraw as a defense witness would be a sensation. Pro: Cassie’s communique had defended Jadway’s motives and integrity in writing The Seven Minutes and would wipe out the testimony of Leroux and Father Sarfatti and the rest, for Cassie had been Jadway’s alter ego, had known his mind and words first hand, and she alone could be the final voice of truth. Pro: Cassie could wash away the calumnies that had been mounted against Jadway’s way of life and at the same time soften the impression left by his way of death. Pro: Cassie McGraw, now an older woman, by her very appearance in the flesh, the admitted model for the heroine of the book, would be a living exhibit to challenge the charge that her performance in the novel was pornographic and obscene. (After all, who could imagine Whistler’s Mother fucking?)
But there were cons, perhaps few strong ones, but in some ways these were the more compelling.
Con: if Cassie McGraw had defended the book in a_communiqu6 meant for Frank Griffith, why had she not come forward at a subsequent time to vol unteer as a defense witness ? Con: perhaps because she did not look with entire favor upon Jadway’s book or his life? Con: and what if she were to be forced, under oath, not only to confirm but to substantiate the damaging testimony already given by the French publisher and the Vatican priest ? Con: and what if this aging woman’s appearance and speech, instead of giving the lie to Duncan’s picture of a wayward, loose woman, only supported the prosecution’s version of her? Con: in short, what if she had become one of those winking, drinking, foul-mouthed, unkempt, cackling old harridans with dyed hair that one sees not only on mean streets but also at exclusive charity balls? Con: what if the whole trade was a con in itself, the biggest of cons, and was being perpetrated by Maggie on behalf of the Griffith family? Maggie had joked about Griffith’s clumsy attempt to get her to use Barrett, but what if that really were a cover-up? And why hadn’t she at least shown him Cassie’s communique and divulged her exact whereabouts? Was it, as she had said, because she could not get to the evidence on Sunday because Frank Griffith was home that day ? Or was-it that she was as suspicious - well, as wary - of Barrett’s using her as he now was of her using him (meaning she knew that once he learned of Cassie’s whereabouts, he would not have to
honor his part of the trade)? Or Was it that evidence of Cassie McGraw alive simply did not exist?
The cons, the pros. The pros and cons.
The decision had to be made on Maggie Russell’s terms. First Barrett must deliver on his part of the bargain. No crossexamination of Jerry Griffith. Then, within a few hours, Maggie would deliver on her part of the bargain. She would deliver, in effect, Cassie McGraw.
If he delivered, and Maggie delivered, the defense would have more than hope. It would have potential victory. But if he delivered, and Maggie did not, Barrett would have betrayed the trust placed in him by his clients. And not only the defense, but her personally would suffer the bitterest of defeats.
He had not been able to come to a decision yesterday.
And he had not come to a decision this morning.
Once, an hour ago, before the court was called to order, before the prosecution had put Dr Roger Trimble on the stand to testify to the grave trauma Jerry had sustained from his reading of the Jadway book, Barrett had been tempted to disclose Maggie’s offer to Abe Zelkin. Yet he had not been able to bring himself to do this, for he had instinctively known what Zelkin’s decision would be. It would be for a bird in the hand, because Zelkin did not know Maggie, and the whole thing came down to a question of Maggie’s honesty and trustworthiness. Zelkin did not know her and would flatly distrust any ally from the house of Griffith. So the decision was Barrett’s to make alone. He knew Maggie. The decision must be based on his person judgment of Maggie, and this made it doubly difficult. His past judgments of women had been consistently poor, so the question, dear counsel, came to this: Was Maggie Russell all the women he had known in the past, or was she his woman, the first real woman he had ever known?
He could not answer. He could not decide.
And then he realized that he would have to decide and answer very soon. For minutes earlier he had made a last gesture at preventing Jerry Griffith’s appearance. He had objected to the calling up of this witness on the grounds of irrelevancy. The jury had filed out, and he had argued the point with Duncan before the bench. Judge Upshaw had based his decision on Judicial Canon 36, that it was the judge’s function to make-sure that proceedings in court should be so conducted as to reflect the importance and seriousness of the inquiry to ascertain the truth. Since the prosecution was arguing that a bookseller had sold a book injurious to the public, and a member of the public had confessed that he had been driven to crime by that book, then it was indeed in the interests of truth to hear the witness out.
Defense’s objection overruled. Witness would be sworn and permitted to speak.
Thus, the last loophole that would have saved Barrett from making a decision about Maggie’s integrity had been ruled out. He was still left with his terrible choice. He would still have to answer those nagging questions and make his decision quickly, too quickly. Before him already, directly in front of him, exuding the warmest and most ingratiating of manners and wearing his quietest and most friendly suit, stood blond Elmo Duncan, District Attorney of Los Angeles and United States Senator to-be.
Duncan was facing the witness box, smiling sympathetically at Jerry Griffith, and softly, nicely, winningly undertaking the People’s direct examination of its leading star.
‘Jerry Griffith, may I ask, what is your present or most recent occupation?’
‘Student.’
‘Would you mind speaking up? You said - ?’
‘I’m a student.’
‘Attending school. Can you tell us where?’
“The University of California at Los Angeles.’
‘In Westwood?’
‘Yes.’
‘How long have you been at the university?’
‘Alsmost three years.’
‘Before that, did you attend a city high school ?’
‘Palisades High School. Except the first semester. I was at Webb. But I transferred.’
‘You transferred? Why?’
‘My father wanted me to go to a coeducational school.’
‘And Palisades is coeducational? Is UCLA coeducational?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Did you go out on dates with girls while you were in high school and college?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Before this year, let’s say during your last year in high school and your first two years at UCLA, how frequently did you go out on dates with girls?’
‘It - it’s hard to remember. I can’t remember how frequently. I -‘
‘Can you give us an approximation of how frequently?’
From the defense table, Barrett half rose. ‘Objection, Your Honor. The witness has stated that he does not remember. I am going to object on the grounds that the question has been asked and answered. Also, it is speculative.’
Judge Upshaw nodded. ‘Objection sustained.’
Lowering himself into his chair, Barrett had a glimpse of Jerry Griffith, and he became aware that for the first time the boy was looking at him. Jerry’s eyes were afraid, and he seemed to have wilted in the witness chair. Barrett had once seen that look in the eyes of a dog whose master had threatened to beat him, and Barrett regretted that it had been necessary to voice an objection. He determined to be more lenient about his rival’s examination,
before the witness was entirely overcome by fear.
Apparently Elmo Duncan was also concerned about the stability and endurance of his witness, for he abandoned his leisurely questioning and moved more swiftly to the core of his star’s testimony.
‘Mr Griffith, what is your major at UCLA?’
‘English literature.’
‘Do your courses demand considerable reading - say at least three books a week?’ ’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Do you also read many books on your own, so to speak, that is, books not on the required reading lists for your English courses?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘How many of these so-called outside books would you say you read each week on the average?’
‘About two or three.’
‘Are these outside books predominantly fiction?”
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Can you recall the titles of any of the books you’ve read in the last six months? The titles and authors?’
‘I read … I read Steppenwolf, by Hesse. Also, his Siddhartha. And Of Human Bondage. That’s by Maugham, and F. Scott Fitzgerald’s Tender Is the Night. Also, The Red and the Black, by Stendhal. Then … - it’s hard to remember - well, Point Counter Point, by Aldous Huxley. And A Passage to India, by E. M. Forster. All of Kafka, and Camus. I - I’d have to think -‘
“That’s a fair enough sampling. Tell me, do you regard any of those books as being pornographic or obscene?’
‘No, sir.’
‘Is there any reason why you read those particular books?’
‘To … I guess to find out more about myself - how I should think and feel about things.’
‘Are you saying you are responsive to what you read - that is, react strongly to what you read?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Have you ever read Justine, by the Marquis de Sade?’
‘No, sir.’
‘Have you read a translation of the pornographic Oriental work the Kama-Sutra ?’
‘No, sir.’
Barrett stirred and then spoke up. T would like to object, Your Honor, on the grounds that the question is immaterial.’
Judge Upshaw brought himself nearer his desk microcphone. ‘Objection overruled. Proceed, Mr Duncan.’
Elmo Duncan turned back to his witness. ‘Mr Griffith, have you ever read My Life and Loves, by Frank Harris?’
‘No, sir.’
‘Or Lady Chatterley’s Lover ?’
‘No, sir.’
‘Or Sexus, by Henry Miller?’
‘No, sir.’
‘Have you read Fanny Hill, in all or in part ?’
‘No, sir.’
Duncan gave Jerry an approving smile, glanced at the jurors, then turned back to his witness.
‘Recently an attempt was made to publish - well, actually it was published, published openly for the first time - a book of the same genre, one similar to those I have been asking you about. I want to know whether you’ve read it. Did you read The Seven Minutes, by J J Jadway?’
‘Yes, sir, I did.’
‘Had you ever heard of the book or known of it before its publication in the United States by Sanford House?’
‘Not… Well, only in passing -I heard it mentioned vaguely in one of my English lectures at UCLA.’
‘Did the lecture stimulate you to read it?’
‘No, sir. Even if it - it had - there were no copies anywhere. The lecture was some months ago.’
‘But if there had been copies available at the time, would the lecture have encouraged you to obtain one?’
Barrett rose. ‘Objection, Your Honor. People’s counsel has asked a speculative question.’
‘Objection sustained.’
Duncan was facing his witness once more. ‘Did the professor’s mention of The Seven Minutes make you feel you wanted to read the book?’
‘No, sir.’
‘Can you tell us what finally made you decide to read The Seven Minutes?’
‘I saw something about it in one of those bookstores that sell those - those protest and avant-garde weekly newspapers and magazines. I was looking through one of the magazines -‘
‘Do you recall the name of the magazine?’
‘No. But it was from New York. There were about a hundred different ones on the racks, and I looked at this one, and there was this article about the book coming out.’
‘Was the article a review or a preview or a news story about the Jadway book?’
‘I guess a preview. It sort of summarized certain sections of the book.’
‘And these summaries stimulated you to read the book?’
“They made me curious.’
‘Why?’
‘I don’t know - not for - because -I think because I never knew women were so interested in sex.’
‘Well, Mr Griffith, up to that time what had you thought was the
reason that women participated in sexual intercourse and other
sexual acts.’
‘I guess I thought they - they did it because everyone did.. or was supposed to… to keep in the swing. I mean, to keep their boy friends happy.’
‘And reading about the Jadway book gave you an entirely different view of this?’
‘Yes. After that I thought they actually wanted to -to-do it’
‘I see. And when you finally read the book itself, did you get this same impression?’
‘Yes.’
‘Even though you knew the book was fiction?’
‘I forgot it was fiction. I believed it.’
‘You believed all women, or most women, were as hungry for sex, and every perversion of sex, as Cathleen, the heroine of The Seven Minutes ?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Do you believe that today?’
‘No, sir.’
‘Do you feel the book misled you?’
‘Objection, Your Honor. Mr Duncan is leading the witness.’
‘Objection sustained.’
‘Now, then, Mr Griffith, in your opinion is Jadway’s portrait of Cathleen in the novel a realistic and true picture of a young girl or is it an unusual and warped one?’
‘Unusual and warped.’
‘So after reading that article about The Seven Minutes, you read the book?’
‘Not right away. It wasn’t out yet. I kept thinking about what the article said, then I forgot about it for a little while until I saw a big ad in a newspaper here saying the book was for sale. Then I got a copy and read it.’
‘When was that? When did you read it?’
‘The night of May eighteenth.’
Barrett had been concentrating on the testimony, but he was distracted by Zelkin’s shaking his arm. He had started to turn, when he saw that Zelkin was passing him a note. It read: ‘Slick boy, our Elmo. Didn’t ask where or how kid got book. Don’t forget to ask in cross.’ Barrett nodded absently and gave his attention to the witness box.
‘You read The Seven Minutes from cover to cover, every word of it?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘What was your reaction to it?’
‘I was upset.’
‘What do you mean, upset?’
‘I was mixed up inside, all mixed up. I couldn’t sleep.’
‘Did you go to school the next day?’
‘Yes, but I cut some of my late-afternoon classes.’
‘Why?’
‘I had my mind on that book. I went to my car -I kept it in my car -‘
‘Why in your car?’
‘I didn’t want my father to know I had it.’
‘Were you afraid your father would object to that kind of reading?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Had your father always disapproved of pornographic books?’
‘Yes, sir. He would not allow them in the house. He said they were not healthy.’
‘Do you agree with him?’
‘I do now, yes, sir.’
‘So you went out to your car, and then what did you do?’
‘I drove it out of the UCLA parking lot, and I drove around a while, and then I found a lonely road up in the hills above Hollywood and I reread parts of the book.’
‘Can you recall what sections you reread?’
‘I don’t remember exactly. Some of the first chapter, the first of
the seven minutes in the story. I read that several times.’
‘What was in those pages?’
‘She’s lying waiting for him… and she thinks how much he looks like those Greek statues, I believe that was in the beginning -‘
‘If I may refresh your memory of that part, Mr Griffith. She’s lying naked, and she thinks of the statues of Priapus that stood on some of the streets of ancient Greece - the statues consisting of the bust of a bearded man set on a stone base or block, and out of the center of this plinth there projected a male penis in a condition of erection. And then Cathleen’s mind goes from those statues to a Grecian vase she had once seen in some museum, and engraved on the vase there was an abandoned young woman holding an olisbos, an artificial penis made out of hard leather, and Cathleen remembers how Lysistrata complained that there were none of these dildos around for her and her sisters to console themselves with. And then Cathleen thinks how lucky she is, and she stares at the unnamed hero of the book, not at him but at his - what were Jadway’s words ? - at “his fat brown stubby swollen cock.” She thinks, “my own olisbos” and then she is moved to perform, or starts to perform, fellatio, and then she falls back and spreads her legs - and the first of her seven minutes begins. Now, Mr Griffith, do you recognize that as the part you reread several times?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Did you feel that was artistic writing at the time?’
‘I didn’t think about the writing.’
‘ Well, did you feel at the time that the author was trying to do any more than excite the reader?’
‘No.’
‘Did this passage and the other excite you?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘In what way did this excitement manifest itself?’
‘Physically. I wanted to have a girl.’
‘Do you mean that you wanted to have sexual intercourse with a girl?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘With some particular girl or just any girl?’
‘Any girl.’
‘What did you do next?’
‘I wanted to find a girl. So I drove down to Melrose… it was nighttime … I drove to the club where I sometimes went - The Underground Railroad - and I looked tor some girls… and drank a couple of Cokes. And there was this girl who was leaving to go to her apartment - she looked just like I’d imagined Cathleen -‘
(1969) The Seven Minutes Page 57