(1969) The Seven Minutes by Irving Wallace Read Free Book Online Page A

language; rarely did he employ swear words (when well shaken, he inclined toward the stilted curses of penny-dreadful literature). His primary obsession was the United States Constitution’s Bill of Rights, and the encroachments being made upon it. He liked to echo the sentiments of Chief Justice Warren, who had once remarked that if the Bill of Rights were introduced as a new piece of legislation today, there were strong doubts that Congress would pass it into law.
    A waiter had approached. ‘Are you ready to order yet, gentlemen?’
    Zelkin lowered his menu. ‘What about you, Mike? Want another drink?’
    Barrett cupped a hand over his glass of Scotch and water. ‘I’m standing pat. Let’s eat. What are you having?’
    ‘If I had my way, I know what I’d want.’ Ruefully, Zelkin considered his protruding stomach. ‘But last night my youngest crawled up on my lap, and she poked at my belly and she said, “Papa, are you pregnant?” Where in the devil she learned that world - progressive nurseries or television, of course - but I got the message.’ He shrugged at the waiter. ‘Broiled hamburger steak, medium, no potatoes, no nothing. And some black coffee.’
    ‘Make it two coffees,’ said Barrett. ‘And a chef’s salad for me. French dressing.’
    The waiter had gone. They were alone. And Barrett wasn’t yet ready for truth. He had mentioned Philip Sanford’s call and the Ben Fremont arrest briefly when they had met. The Fremont matter was still a welcome diversion. He held up Zelkin’s photocopies. ‘This statutory definition of obscenity really makes the head swim. There’s no clear-cut guideline.’
    Zelkin grinned. ‘Richard Kuh - he used to be assistant district attorney in New York - once remarked that trying to define obscenity is as frustratingly impossible as trying to nail custard pie to trees. And Judge Curtis Bok said it was like trying to come to grips with a greased pig. But I’ll go along with Justice Stewart. He once said something to the effect that maybe he couldn’t define obscenity, but, by golly, he knew obscenity when he saw it.’
    ‘Well, maybe,’ said Barrett doubtfully. ‘I’d prefer to go along with Havelock Ellis - how can you define a notion so nebulous that it resides not in the thing contemplated, but in the mind of the contemplating person ? You show one man a picture of a nude woman and he says Art, and you show the same to the next fellow and he says Dirty Postcard.’
    ‘My dear Michael, a nude woman is always Art.’
    Barrett laughed. ‘You’ve solved that one. 1 wish it were as simple with a book. Here we’ve got Sanford, who, despite his commercial interest, really believes this Jadway book is the essence of purity, and there we’ve got Elmo Duncan, guardian of public safety, who by his very act this morning is saying the same book is filthy. On the one hand, Sanford insisting the book has social importance, and on the other Duncan insisting its appeal is solely to a - where’s that definition? - yes, to a “shameful and morbid interest” in nudity and sex and is “utterly without redeeming social importance.” And with that poor bookseller caught helplessly in between.’
    Zelkin finished his martini. ‘Well, sometimes a good trial - and the appeals that might follow it - can be a long step toward working out a more satisfactory definition.’
    ‘Not this time,’ said Barrett. ‘I know Sanford doesn’t want a trial, but he doesn’t relish a guilty plea either. He just wants the whole thing quietly quashed. I guess he’s right. Anyway, I have an appointment with our District Attorney at three-thirty.’ He paused. ‘I hope he’s as agreeable behind his desk as he is at a dinner party.’
    ‘How well do you know him?’ asked Zelkin.
    ‘We’re not on a first-name basis, nothing like that. He’s been a guest at the Osborns’ several times when I was there with Faye.’
    “That won’t hurt you.’
    ‘No - no, I suppose not.’ Barrett