(1969) The Seven Minutes

by Irving Wallace

  Barrett was very still. He walked slowly to the window, gazed absently into the street, and finally returned to the desk.

  ‘Senator Bainbridge,’ he said with control, ‘I think Mr Jadway is wrong. I know I can’t persuade you, or him through you, but I must tell you what I feel. I think he is wrong. I believe that there are other great men in law who might fill the Supreme Court vacancy as capably as Mr Jadway might, and who might dispense wisdom and justice as well as he might. However, there is only one man, one man on earth, who can save this particular book, and all it represents, and all it means to the future. I think that this is where Mr Jadway should fight his fight, in the here and now, down among the people, where he, and he alone can save us, and save himself by refusing to

  repudiate his past. I do believe his past means more to the present, his present and ours, than does his future. That’s what I feel. And there is something more. If this case is lost, it will establish as a legal precedent that the courts believe men can be driven to violence - as the prosecution has contended with its example of Jerry Griffith -by a work of literature. Should this go unchallenged, should this fallacy be upheld and become legally accepted in our time, then all words spoken or written hereafter will be under the sentence of death, and the real evils in our society that nourish and breed violence will be acquitted to grow on and on until alli of us, and our heirs, and everything we cherish will be destroyed. Thank you for the hearing, Senator Bainbridge. Tell Mr Jadway 1 hope he sleeps well tonight.’

  He was at the door when Bainbridge’s voice caught him.

  ‘Mr Barrett -‘

  He waited.

  Bainbridge was standing behind his desk. ‘I’ll see that Mr Jad-way considers everything you have said. Should he change his mind, he’ll know where to reach you.’

  Barrett tried to smile. ‘But you know he won’t change his mind, don’t you?’

  The Senator did not reply. He appeared bemused. He said, ‘You might like to hear that in the matter of Jadway’s writing the book, his life, his suicide, the reasons for his suicide, Christian Leroux did not knowingly lie. He simply did not tell the truth. Because he did not know the truth. He knew only the lie. Just as Father Sarfatti knew only the lie. Jadway’s and Cassie’s lie. Perhaps that is of importance now. I cannot say. One thing I am sorry about. I am sorry that it will be believed that a book could drive a boy to commit rape, to act violently. Rape was an avocation of men long before they learned to read. This aspect of the result of your case will be unfortunate. But perhaps Mr Jadway will be able to rectify that one day - in another way, one day.’

  ‘Senator, there is no one day. There is only tomorrow. Goodbye.’

  Going down to the street level, he knew that he had reached rock bottom at last. How many times had he thought he had reached the floor of the pit of despair? He could scarcely count the number. But this time it was the bottom. There was no place else he could go. The last light of hope had been extinguished.

  He emerged into the sunlight and went dejectedly down the flight of stairs to the street, and then he started toward a taxi.

  A newsboy who was hawking papers on the corner was calling out to passersby, ‘Read it, just in - latest sensation in Los Angeles sex-book trial!’

  The latest ? What in the devil could that be ?

  Barrett hastened to the corner, handed the boy a coin, and unfolded the front page of the newspaper.

  The bold black banner headline lashed at him like a whip:

  SHERI MOORE IS DEAD!

  RAPE VICTIM IN JADWAY ‘MINUTES’ CASE

  DIES UNEXPECTEDLY; DEBATED PORNOGRAPHIC BOOK

  GOES TO JURY TOMORROW.

  He recoiled.

  His first thought was of that poor kid in the hospital, gone, ended, and then his thoughts were of her father, Howard Moore, of Jerry Griffith, of Maggie, and finally, of Abe and himself.

  Minutes ago he had thought that he had reached bottom, but it had been a false bottom, for now the last trapdoor had been sprang from under him, and he found that it was possible to sink even lower, and it was black down there, the blackest day he had ever known.

  It was late morning in Los Angeles, and in the bedroom of Barrett’s apartment Maggie Russell had finished drying after her shower, and was just fastening her brassiere, when the telephone rang for the second time in the past hour. Still clad in only her half slip and brassiere, she hurried into the living room to catch the call.

  To her relief, it was Mike Barrett calling from Washington.

  ‘Mike, I was praying it would be you,’ she said into the telephone. ‘I wanted to call you, but I knew you wouldn’t be in. Have you heard ? I mean, about Sheri - Sheri Moore. She did in the night.’

  ‘Yes, I saw the headlines a half hour ago.’

  ‘Isn’t it pitiful? She was so young. I feel awful. And Jerry is desperate. And you -I can hear it in your voice - you sound so low.’

  ‘I am low. That poor kid, Sheri -I never knew her, but still, when something like that occurs, it makes everything else seem unimportant.’

  ‘Yes, it does. I can’t get her out of my mind - and, selfishly, I keep worrying about Jerry also, how it’ll all affect him.’ She paused. ‘And I’m worried about you, Mike.’

  ‘Forget about me. Sure, I’m low. It’s been a rotten morning all around, but at least I’m alive, sort of.’

  ‘What does that mean ? I thought you’d - well, aside from everything else that’s taken place, I thought you’d have some good news. You were seeing Senator Bainbridge and Jadway this morning, weren’t you?’

  ‘I saw Bainbridge. Period. I just came from him.’

  ‘What happened, Mike? Don’t tell me he wouldn’t - ?’

  ‘He wouldn’t. It’s no go.’

  ‘Oh, Mike, I’m so sorry. I was sure once they realized you knew Jadway was alive, they’d -‘

  ‘It’s not that simple. Bainbridge’s main sideline seems to be perpetuating the myth that Jadway is dead. He threw me one crumb. He’ll see that Jadway considers everything I said, my whole plea.

  But that won’t come to anything.’

  ‘Can’t you subpoena Jadway?’

  ‘Where? How? How do you subpoena a ghost?’

  ‘I guess that was a stupid suggestion, but I’m so upset for you, I - I’m trying to think of something.’ She thought of something else. ‘Mike, what happened between you and Bainbridge? What did he say? Do you want to talk about it?’

  His voice sounded so dispirited that her heart ached for him, but she coaxed him to talk, and before long he had told her everything that had transpired from the moment he had met Miss Xavier in the Capitol until he had left the Senator’s office.

  Then he went on. After this failure to reach Jadway, he had learned about Sheri’s death. He had returned to his hotel, and because of the time difference he had been able to catch Zelkin before he had gone into court. Zelkin too had been rocked by Sheri’s death, and crushed by the refusal of Bainbridge and Jadway to cooperate.

  ‘As Abe put it, if the author wouldn’t defend bis own book and Ms own life, how could we hope to defend it successfully for him?’ said Barrett. ‘And Sheri Moore’s dying, that certainly upset Abe -he feels as we do about the poor kid. But quite apart from that, there is the question of how Sheri’s death will influence the result of the trial. Abe had to admit that even though her death has nothing to do with the legal aspects of the case, the emotional effect it will have on the jurors - and you can be sure one of them, somehow, will hear about it - the effect it will have on everyone connected with the trial, today and tomorrow, will be tremendous. It puts the final exclamation mark to Duncan’s argument that Jadway’s book drove Jerry to do what he did to Sheri and was the real cause of her death. Jadway is no longer a rapist. He is now a murderer, he and anyone else who ever wants to express himself freely.’

  ‘And there’s nothing more you can do about it?’ she asked slowly.

  ‘Nothing anyone can do about it, Maggie, except Jadway
himself. Had he agreed to come forward, even the emotionalism surrounding Sheri’s death might have been overcome. His appearance might have put the whole focus of the trial back on the book itself. He could have succeeded in getting, it a clean bill of goods. In that way, we would have had a chance to prove, with living evidence, that such an author and such a book could have done Jerry no harm and therefore was in no way responsible for Sheri’s death. But what’s the use of speculating? It’s over. To all intents and purposes, Jadway is as dead today as he was the day the trial started. And those who feel as we do are going to suffer for it. The censors are in the saddle. The witch hunters ride again. Freedom to speak, to dissent, to protest, they’ll all be cut down along with freedom to read. Well, why go on? I might as well come back

  to Shed’s funeral -‘

  •Mike-‘

  ‘Yes?’

  She had been listening carefully, and thinking a lot, and she had to know one last thing.

  ‘Besides what happens to your case now, Mike, this latest development is going to make it much harder on Jerry, isn’t it?’

  He seemed reluctant to reply. Finally he did. ‘Yes, I’m afraid so, Maggie.’

  ‘How much harder?’

  ‘We can talk about that when I get back.’

  ‘I want fo know now, Mike. I’m a grown girl. Tell me straight.’

  ‘All right. Up to now, wifh the vicHm alive, Jerry could have got anywhere from three years to life in the state prison, but inasmuch as he cooperated with the D.A.‘s Office, and what with the psychiatric evidence and so forth, he might have come off with one to three years at the most. However, with Sheri’s death, the forcible-rape charge has been compounded by homicide, and the probability is he’ll get - well, he could be sentenced to prison for life.’

  Life ?’ Maggie shuddered. “That’s not possible. It’s not fair. They don’t know Jerry.’

  ‘Maggie, the law knows only what it has seen and heard.’

  Only what it has seen and heard, she thought.

  ‘Mike, Jerry found out where 1 was staying through Donna at your office. 1 heard from him this morning.’

  Barrett sounded disbelieving. ‘You did? Isn’t he in jail yet?’

  ‘Jail? What do you mean, Mike?’

  ‘I thought you understood. As long as Sheri was alive, he could remain free on bail. Now that she’s dead, it’s murder, and Jerry has to be confined to ^he county prison.’

  She nodded at the telephone. ‘Then that explains it. He called just to talk to me. He has no one to talk to. So we discussed what had happened, and I tried to calm him down, and finally I asked him if he could get out and come over here, and he said he’d try to sneak past his father and see me, but he’d have to get right back. He said the District Attorney was coming over during the noon recess, at one o’clock, to see him and Uncle Frank. Mike, is Duncan going to arrest him?’

  ‘Yes. Normally, Jerry would be in jail already. But since his father and Duncan are chummy - well, I guess that’s why the arrest was delayed a few hours. But I’m afraid he’ll be in jail this afternoon.’

  ‘Then I’m glad he’s on his way here. I just wanted to calm him down, but now - Well, never mind. I better finish dressing. Are you coming back today?’

  “They should have my reservation by now. I’ll go straight to the courtroom, if that trial’s still on. If not, I’d better stop off at the

  office. I’ll see you tonight.’

  ‘Tonight,’ she said uncertainly. Then she said, ‘Mike, don’t give up. Maybe something will happen.’

  ‘Darling, I think the guy up there has a certain quota of miracles for each of his children and I’m afraid mine has been used up.’

  Maybe yours she wanted to say but maybe not mine. Instead she said goodbye.

  After she had hung up she stood beside the telephone and tried to remember what Mike had said to her.

  He had said Maggie, the law knows only what it has seen and heard. But, Mike, what if it has not seen and heard everything?

  He had said, How do you subpoena a ghost ? But, Mike, why not try?

  He had said, The guy up there has a certain quota of miracles for each of his children. That’s right, Mike, but maybe I’m not overdrawn yet.

  What was it that the clerk always said in court? The truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God.

  All right, help me God. The time had come for the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.

  She tried to think it out. When she had done so, when each step fell into place, she was ready to begin.

  First, the longdistance call to Washington.

  In less than a minute she had her connection.

  ‘Miss Xavier ? Senator Bainbridge’s secretary ?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘This is Miss Maggie Russell in Los Angeles.’ Now a white lie. ‘I’m associated with the Griffith Advertising Agency. It’s quite important that I see Senator Bainbridge tomorrow, on Mr Griffith’s behalf, on a business matter. I wonder if it would be possible to arrange an appointment.’

  ‘I’m afraid tomorrow is impossible, Miss Russell. The Senator will be out of the city tomorrow.’

  ‘Will he be away long?’

  ‘I can’t say, Miss Russell. 1 do know for certain that he will be leaving in the morning. Of course, there is a possibility that he’ll be back from Chicago later in the day. If you want to state the nature of your business, maybe 1 can arrange -‘

  ‘No, never mind. Thanks. I’ll get back to you next week.’

  She dropped the receiver in the cradle.

  So it was Chicago. Senator Bainbridge would be in Chicago. Somehow, she was not at all surprised.

  That was the first step. So far, so good.

  Now the second step. Jerry Griffith. He would be over shortly, and she would be dressed and waiting. He would be over expecting to use her shoulder to cry on, and expecting the usual placebo pill. But not this time, Jerry. No placebos, no faking it. And no shoulder either, because she needed it for something else, for giving it to him

  straight from the shoulder.

  Then the third step..Howard Moore. Even in his bereavement over his daughter’s death, especially in his bereavement, he would see her, she knew.

  Finally the last step. She would call International Airport. A jetliner reservation to Chicago for tonight.

  That was it - if you believed in miracles.

  She started for the bedroom, the refrain singing in her head.

  California, here I go … California, here I go…

  The following morning, Thursday, the second day of July, a hired chauffeur and limousine, recently arrived from O’Hare International Airport, stood waiting outside the Sunnyside Convalescent Sanitarium in Chicago.

  Inside the nursing home, beyond the bustle of employees removing breakfast dishes from the patients’ rooms to the kitchen, and two handymen swabbing the corridor floor with some antiseptic solution, the door of the administrator’s office was opening.

  It was Senator Thomas Bainbridge who emerged from the office first, and right behind him, pleased and bobbing with deference, came Mr Holliday.

  ‘No, no, no, Senator,’ Mr Holliday was repeating once more, ‘I assure you, you haven’t disturbed the routine one mite. Our visiting hours are always flexible.’

  ‘Thank you, Mr Holliday,‘I shan’t be long.’

  ‘This is an honor, our pleasure, Senator Bainbridge. I know Miss McGraw - Mrs Sullivan, I should say -1 know she’ll be pleased. This is the second - uh - prominent visitor she will have had in two days. Yesterday, from Los Angeles -‘

  ‘I know, Mr Holliday.’

  They had come to the recreation-room entrance. ‘Now, of course, as I’ve cautioned you, Senator Bainbridge, she is not always communicative. She can be lucid, she can make good sense, but frequently these patients tend to be somewhat, well, a trifle - confused. But if she is having one of her better days, you understand…’

  ‘I understand perfectly, Mr
Holliday.’

  ‘She’s just finished her breakfast, and at this hour you can have a fair amount of privacy.’

  Bainbridge had entered the recreation room, and Mr Holliday was beside him again.

  ‘Which one is she?’ asked Bainbridge.

  ‘At the table, alone, next to the patio window,’ said Mr Holliday. ‘In the wheelchair, wearing the pink model coat. Her nurse is tidying her up___Oh, Miss Jefferson! Can I see you?’

  The lanky nurse came rapidly across the hall. ‘I got her all prettied, Mr Holliday.’

  ‘Excellent, excellent. Now, Miss Jefferson, I’ve promised the Senator some privacy. See that nobody interrupts.’

  ‘I’ll watch for that, Mr Holliday.’

  ‘Well, Senator -‘ the manager began.

  ‘If you don’t mind,’ Bainbridge interrupted, ‘I’d like to be alone with her now.’

  ‘Of course, of course,’ Mr Holliday apologized, and he retreated through the door, taking Miss Jefferson with him..

  Bainbridge remained where he had been standing.

  He steeled himself. There were some things one had to do. Now he must proceed, he told himself. Right now.

  He advanced quickly with his one-pound box of candy.

  When almost upon her, he slowed, going around the wheelchair, so as not to startle her.

  She had been staring at the centerpiece on the table, but then she was conscious of someone, and she turned the sunken face toward him, looked at him up and down, without reaction.