(1969) The Seven Minutes (41 page)

“That so ? Well, you can bet he’ll drop by to see our plant. He and the other profs lay out anywhere from fifty to a hundred bucks to buy prints of each of these four-hundred-foot stags, and they’re happy to get them at that price, because it’s for science. How they going to get them for science if somebody doesn’t make them? Now, you tell me what’s wrong with that.’

Although he was an advocate of freedom in all the arts, Barrett was capable of telling Quandt plenty about what was wrong with that, but he knew it would be disastrous to do so. He must not offend Quandt in any way, and he knew it. He evaded Quandt’s aggressive question and tried to divert him with a simulated show of interest.

‘The girlie or nudie pictures you’re making downtairs, those I can readily understand,’ Barrett said. ‘That’s legal and easy -‘

‘And the way to the poorhouse,’ snapped Quandt. ‘Not enough profit, considering the investment. The stags are easier and surefire, and, besides, they’re safe. Limited audience. Sold and shown in secrecy. So no civic outcry. And dependable income. If you want to stay in business, idiot laws or no idiot laws, you got to have stags for a sideline.’

‘But how do you get the - the actors for stag films?’

‘That’s the easiest part. There are so many young broads giving it out for nothing these days that, comes a day, and some of them get smart and see they can make money doing what comes naturally. We use some prosties, sure, but only the beginners who still got their looks. Mostly we get the girls who can’t make it in the major studios, even on the casting couches, and some fashion models who are underpaid, and some neighborhood girls who just get kicks showing it off before thousands of men around the country. Those two broads in ‘here, I’m paying them each a hundred fifty bucks for today’s episode. And Gil, he’s kept his amateur standing, he plays without pay. He likes to ball it. And why not ? His only defect is his pecker. Too big. It’s a put-down to many male stag audiences. I like to keep my actors down to six inches or so - for audience identification. But Gil’s a great cocksman, puts on a real performance, so I use him. Anyway, someday I’d like to get my hands on someone who becomes a big name in show biz. Then you can replay the same film, especially as rentals, for years. Like some producer in the Southwest, he latched onto that famous tripteaser, the one with the huge bust, you know, Candy Barr. Caught her on the way up about twenty years ago and put her in a stag reel called Smart Alec, shot it in a Texas motel on a shoestring, and later Candy hit the big time and that reel has been an annuity.’ Quandt paused, studied his watch. ‘Je-sus, I haven’t got much time. Let’s see if they’re done in there. If they aren’t, well, I’ll find that autograph dealer’s name later and mail it to you.’

‘Mr Quandt, I’d give anything to have it right now. The trial’s about to start, and any ammunition we have against Duncan …’

‘Duncan, yeah. Well, let’s see.’

They went inside, and to Barrett’s relief the scene had just been completed. The two girls were seated on the daybed, one lighting a cigarette, the other toweling herself. The male actor was pulling on his trousers. The cameraman had come forward, saying, ‘Soon’s you’re ready I’ll tell you what we shoot next. It’s the one where Gil tries to make a sale to the big buyer from Texas.’

Barrett hung back as Quandt proceeded across the room, exchanging a quip with the titian-haired girl, patting a brown teat of the girl with bangs, who giggled. Nervously Barrett waited while Quandt opened a file-cabinet drawer and began to finger through the manila folders. At last he pulled one folder out and began to examine its contents. He returned the folder to the file.

Suddenly, frighteningly, there was an eerie high-pitched buzzing in the room, and a red light above the wall clock began to flash on and off, and Quandt smashed the file draw shut and shouted, ‘The alarm, goddamit! You know what to do!’

Barrett was startled not only by the alarm, but by the maelstrom of action in the office. The door behind him had been flung open, and two short swarthy men ran in. A sliding wall beside the daybed had also opened, and the naked girls rushed through it, followed by the cameraman and his equipment, while the two swarthy men took up the klieg light and the other evidences of film-making. In the middle of all this Quandt stood, directing the movements, surveying the room to see if it was in order. In a matter of short seconds the motion-picture set had become transformed into a mail-order office once more.

Barrett saw that Quandt was starting toward him, his features and fists knotted with rage.

‘You son of a bitch,’ he snarled at Barrett, ‘this is your doing -!’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. What’s going on?’

‘That’s a warning from downstairs. The coppers are down there asking for me. Probably the D.A.‘s plainclothes goons. And you tipped them -‘

‘Are you crazy, Quandt? You’ve read the papers. I’m on the other side.’

‘Well, it’s the first time they’ve tumbled to this location, and, goddammit, your being here is a pretty damn big coincidence. Until now, they didn’t even know I was in business -‘

Something had hit Barrett. ‘Listen, Quandt, listen to me and believe me. That bastard Duncan must have had a tail on me, and they tailed me here. But it’s not you they’re after. It’s me! I’m the enemy now. And if they could trap me in your studio-with the stag films - the nudes - me, the big defender of art consorting with illegal pornographers - can’t you see the carnival they’d make of it on television and in the newspapers - discrediting me before I got

into court - ’

Quandt looked off frantically. ‘I don’t know. Maybe you’re leveling with me, maybe not. But I guess you’re against Duncan and I got to go with you. Okay, follow me. There’s a way out through the back and down under the garage. One of the girls will show you. You’ll get out safe and clean.’

He had reached the wall beside the sofa, touched the paneling, and the wall slid open again to reveal a narrow passageway.

‘Get your ass out of here,’ ordered Quandt, ‘and don’t let me ever see you near this place again.’

‘Don’t worry,’ said Barrett. He ducked into the tunnel. He saw Quandt reach to close off the wall. ‘Mr Quandt -‘

‘I don’t have any time. I got to meet those coppers downstairs.’

‘Mr Quandt,’ Barrett called out again, ‘the autograph dealer, the one you sold the Jadway letters to -‘

The wall was sliding shut.

And then Barrett heard Quandt’s voice. ‘Olin Adams Autographs - Olin Adams - Fifty-fifty Street - New York.’

The wall closed, and Barrett turned away, and in the distance, he could see the light, at last.

In the cozy security of his law office an hour and a half later, Mike Barrett had just finished relating his adventure with Norman C. Quandt to Abe Zelkin, who was pacing back and forth in front of Barrett’s desk.

‘And that Quandt smoked a cigar just like the one you’re smoking,’ Barrett added. ‘Only you don’t dribble and drool the way he does.’

Zelkin considered his cigar. ‘I’ve got nothing to drool about. He has.’

‘What a creep,’ Barrett shook his head. ‘That stinking business. Closeups of fellatio, cunnilingus, coitus, sodomy, orgasms, let alone dildos, and all done in the name of sexual liberation and the elevation of science. Maybe those stag films harm no one any more than honestly conceived and executed movies or books harm anyone, yet there is something about the men who create them, the Quandts of the world, that makes me ill. Maybe this sounds inconsistent, Abe, but a man like Norman C. Quandt shouldn’t be allowed to stay in business.’

‘If they ever nab him, he’ll get five years.’

‘Nobody’ll catch him. He’s too slimy and slippery. Those are the guys who make sex a four-letter word, and make it tough for people like us. It bugs the hell out of me - this is the sad part, Abe - that when we defend freedom of speech and freedom of the press, we’re also defending the rights of a whole subterranean reptile community consisting of people like Quandt. They’re evil, because they’re dishonest. Yet we’re forced to have them in our battalion. If you’re against censorship, you’re made out to be against all

censorship. I only wish there were a way to draw the line, select those who deserve defending and those who don’t deserve it. But who does the selecting, who separates those with merit from the meretricious? Where is that wisest judge and umpire?’

Zelkin had stopped pacing. His pumpkin face was grave. ‘Forget it, Mike. We’re not defending Quandt. We’re defending Jadway. Unwittingly, Quandt may have served freedom, grand as that sounds. He gave you the name of that autograph dealer - Olin Adams, wasn’t it? - okay, that may be our biggest gain against Duncan yet. And just in time. Before court adjourned today, we agreed on eight jurors. That leaves four more to decide on tomorrow. If we make it, we’ll be ready to go on Monday. I’m grateful for this new break, that’s one thing. And I’m grateful that the police didn’t find you with Quandt and those naked girls.’

‘You can say that again. Imagine the headlines. “Defense Attorney Trapped in Sex Orgy with Topless - and Bottomless -Beauties.” That would have really been curtains for us.’

The telephone buzzer sounded, and Barrett picked up the receiver.

It was Donna. ‘I’ve got New York, Mr Barrett. Lucky, we caught Olin Adams just as he was closing shop for the day. He’s on the line. Take it on one.’

‘Thanks, Donna. In case our luck holds, check the earliest flights to New York.’ He glanced up at Zelkin. ‘We’ve got Olin Adams on the other end, Abe. Cross your fingers.’ Barrett punched the lighted key. ‘Mr Olin Adams ?’

The voice was distant and gentle. ‘Yes, sir. What can I do for you. Mr Barrett?’

‘I understand that you acquired a packet of holograph letters about ten days ago - literary letters written in the 1930s by J J Jadway, the author of The Seven Minutes. I learned this today from the gentleman who sold them to you.’

‘The Jadway letters. Yes, I remember. You are quite right.’

‘Do you still have them on hand, Mr Adams ?’ Barrett asked, and then waited anxiously.

‘Do I have them ? Oh, yes, certainly. I’ve hardly had time to unpack them, let alone collate them in order to include them in my next catalogue. We’ve been very busy here going through two large collections, one of Walt Whitman manuscripts and the other of Martin Lu her King correspondence, that arrived prior to the Jadway material.’

Making a hasty victory sign with his fingers for Zelkin, Barrett concentrated again on the conversation. ‘Mr Adams, I’m delighted you sti 11 have the Jadway material, because I’m interested in acquiring it. Can you tell me what it consists of?’

‘Not exactly, at this moment, Mr Barrett. The letters are locked up for the night. I was just leaving for home. Perhaps tomorrow -‘

‘Well, if you could only give me an idea, in general, from

memory.’

‘As I said, I unwrapped the folder they came in a week or two ago and only had time to authenticate the letters. If I recall correctly, there were four pieces, three holograph letters signed by Jadway, and one typescript page with Jadway’s signature typed, but on the verso it has the holograph signature of a Miss McGraw, Jadway’s inamorata, I understand. In all, about nine pages of material.’

‘And the contents, Mr Adams?’

‘I hardly remember at this minute. I barely skimmed the material. It’s mostly literary - discussions of his writing of the novel and some autobiographical information intended for a book jacket. It is difficult for me to remember more, what with Walt Whitman and-‘

‘Mr Adams, I’d like to purchase the Jadway material sight unseen.’

‘I wouldn’t want you to do that. It would be most unwise.’

‘I don’t mind. I must have the letters at once. Can you give me a price?’

‘Well, I haven’t had time to evaluate -‘

‘Set a figure, and if you’ve overpriced the letters I promise you I won’t complain.’

‘Umm. This is difficult, Mr Barrett. These are the first Jadway letters that have come on the market, to my knowledge, and there’s been no auction standard set.’

‘But you must have some notion, Mr Adams,’ persisted Barrett, containing his impatience. ‘Name a price that you know you’d be happy with.’

There was a silence, then the dealer’s voice again. ‘Well, we get fifty dollars for a Sinclair Lewis letter and sometimes two hundred and fifty dollars for a Whitman letter, and while Jadway is neither of these, still he is a rarity, and his recent notoriety may one day lend him a special appeal for certain collectors. It is remotely possible our Jadway packet might one day be worth, umm, let us say perhaps, perhaps as much as eight hundred dollars.’

‘It’s a deal,’ said Barrett crisply.

The other end of the line was silent again, and when Olin Adams found his voice he sounded confused. ‘I… do you … are you saying - ?’

‘I’m saying I’ve purchased your Jadway letters for eight hundred dollars. Are you satisfied with the deal?’

‘Why - why, yes, sir, if you feel that you are.’

‘I am, I am.’

‘Very well, Mr Barrett, excellent. You have them. If you will mail me your check for the sum and allow time for it to be cleared. I will then send the letters to you by air mail.’

‘No, I need them more quickly than that, Mr Adams. I’m flying to New York tonight. What time do you open in the morning?’

‘At nine o’clock.’

‘I’ll be in your shop between nine and ten. There’ll be no check to clear. I’ll pay you in cash. Be sure to have them ready.’

They’ll be ready for you, Mr Barrett. Yes, thank you, thank you very much.’

‘See you in the morning then.’

Barrett dropped the receiver into the telephone cradle and beamed up at Zelkin.

‘Good work,’ said Zelkin, rubbing his hands together. ‘Now we’ve got something. Jadway speaking from the grave, hopefully to refute Leroux’s contention that he was a commercialist and pornographer. Isabel Vogler to refute Jerry Griffith’s testimony that the book alone was what unhinged him. Things are looking up.’

“That reminds me. Abe, will you call Mrs Vogler and tell her I’m off to New York, but I’ll phone her when I get back later tomorrow ? I definitely want to see her tomorrow. Tell her to sit tight.’