‘Why, certainly. It was the last week in November of 1934. A Friday, a Friday morning.’
‘Very good. Do you recall Cassie McGraw’s appearance? Can you tell us what she looked like ?’
Leroux smiled. T remember precisely. She was about five feet two. She wore a yellow raincoat of the kind Americans called slickers. She had brunet hair, bobbed, shingled. Gray eyes. Small upturned nose, some freckles, pretty. Most generous lips, a cute pout. In all, a gamin, clever, bright, witty, amusing. But she could be very serious when discussing Jadway.’
Barrett nodded appreciatively. ‘Good. And you received her at your office in - where was it again? I know it’s printed in the book -‘
‘My office was 18 Rue de Berri.’
‘That’s right. Thank you, Mr Leroux. It had slipped my mind. Uh - where were you living at the time?’
Leroux hesitated. T am trying to remember. There was so much moving from place to place, so much dislocation during the war and after.’
‘But this was the last week of November in 1934. That was well
before the war had even begun.’
‘Yes, of course,’ said Leroux, ‘but I still am not certain. I think it was an apartment in Neuilly, or possibly -‘
‘Well, if you can’t remember exactly -‘
Leroux shrugged. ‘I am afraid not.’
‘ - perhaps it would help you if you tried to remember your landlord’s name or the name of your concierge. Can you recollect the name of either one?’
‘No.’
‘Well, perhaps you remember your apartment telephone number?’
‘Hardly. No, I am sorry.’
‘Then certainly your office telephone. You must have used it constantly. Can you tell me the office number?’
Leroux had become mildly exasperated. ‘Of course not, not after almost forty years. To be reasonable, that was far back in 1934, and one cannot be expected to remember every …’ His voice drifted off.
‘I agree with you, one cannot be expected to remember everything that happened so long ago,’ said Barrett softly. He paused. Suddenly his tone hardened. ‘Yet, Mr Leroux, I have heard you state from this witness box that you do remember every single word that J J Jadway and Cassie McGraw said to you in 1934, almost forty years ago. Is that not - ?’
‘Objection!’ bellowed Duncan from across the courtroom. ‘I object, Your Honor. Defense counsel is being argumentative.’
‘Sustained,’ announced Judge Upshaw.
‘Yes, Your Honor,’ Barrett murmured. He was satisfied. He had struck a blow at the veracity of the witness’s testimony by stressing the frailty of memory. Objection or no, the jury had heard the exchange. Now he determined to make certain that no member of the jury had missed the point. ‘Mr Leroux, in your testimony you have claimed that you heard first hand that J J Jadway drank heavily, was addicted to drugs, dashed off his book for money and only money, and more of the same. A question. After giving it a second thought, are you absolutely positive that you remember every word and every alleged fact told to you almost forty years ago ?’
‘Your Honor, again I must object!’ Duncan protested. ‘Witness has already testified to these conversations and facts under oath. This is repetitious.’
‘Objection is sustained on that ground,’ said Judge Upshaw. He fixed his unsmiling visage upon Barrett. ‘Court also admonishes defense counsel not to persist in argument with the witness.’
Barrett’s expression was contrite. ‘I am sorry, Your Honor. It was unintentional.’ He turned back to Christian Leroux, who was sitting erect, arms no longer complacently crossed, hands now planted firmly on his knees. ‘Mr Leroux, let us return to the years 1934 and 1935. You have stated - you have recollected - that
you spoke to J J Jadway exactly four times. Is that correct?’
‘It is correct.’
‘Where did you have your conversations with Jadway ? By that I mean, did you visit his apartment or receive him in your office or see him in a restaurant? Where did you meet with him?’
Leroux hesitated. ‘I never said that I met with him. I said I spoke with him.’
Barrett was surprised, and he showed it. ‘You never met J J Jadway in person?
‘No. I spoke with him four times on the telephone.’
‘On the telephone ? I see. You were positive it was Jadway on the other end?’
‘Of course. Cassie McGraw would telephone and then put him on the line.’
‘Isn’t that unusual, Mr Leroux - a publisher who lives in the same city as his author confining their relationship to telephone calls ? Did you ever make an effort to meet him in person ?’
‘No.’
‘You made no effort to meet him face to face?’
‘I did not, because there was no reason to,’ said Leroux testily. ‘Cassie McGraw had told me he was a recluse, withdrawn, and often under the influence of drink or drugs, and so I felt I would not be warmly received. Therefore, I made no effort -‘
‘Did you know for a fact, let us say had you been told by Jadway himself, that you would not be warmly received?’
‘I just felt it. There could have been no mistake about my not being welcome.’
‘Did you have any other reasons for not attempting to meet your author in person?’
‘No other reasons. I might add that it is not a common practice for publishers to go calling upon their authors. Especially upon authors with unsavory reputations. Furthermore, I had other new authors to contend with every year, and Jadway was just one more and not a particularly promising one.’
‘ ‘I see. You were too busy to give any one author your full attention, especially a lesser author. Well -‘
‘Objeqtion, Your Honor!’ It was Duncan flagging the bench. ‘Counsel is calling for a conclusion the witness has not made.’
‘Objection is sustained.’
‘All right,’ said Barrett. He considered the witness once more. Then your contact with J J Jadway was entirely by telephone or through Cassie McGraw. Is that correct?’
‘Correct.’
‘And except for what Miss McGraw told you, your knowledge of Jadway’s habits, his feelings about writing, motivations for writing the book, these came to you over the telephone, never from personal meetings. Is that correct ?’
‘No, it is not. I just remembered something else.’
‘Oh - ?’
‘There was another source. I required biographical information from the author to include in the book. I requested that he fill in a questionnaire. It is a routine procedure. Jadway did not fill in the questionnaire. Instead, he wrote me several letters about himself -first one, then another with afterthoughts, and eventually a few more about the editing. So in this way there was more information that came from Jadway himself.’
‘Precisely what information came from Jadway in this correspondence?’
‘Information about his background, his family background, couched in generalities, his desire to write.’
‘His motives for writing The Seven Minutes ?’
‘I don’t remember,’ said Leroux.
‘Those letters might be very useful to us and perhaps provide information relevant to this case. Do you have those letters in your possession?’
‘No.’
‘Do you know what happened to them?’
‘I can’t say. They were probably thrown out with thousands of others when I ceased publishing under the Etoile Press imprint.’
‘Might you have sold these letters when you sold the rights to The Seven Minutes to another publisher?’
‘I -‘ Leroux faltered, and he was suddenly wary. ‘I might have. I can’t say.’
T merely wondered,’ said Barrett, ‘because some Jadway letters, remarkably like the ones you’ve described, were recently put on sale by an autograph dealer in New York. The dealer obtained them from a former publisher. He sold them to an unidentified party. I wondered whether they might be the same letters you received. Do you believe that the
y may have been?’
Leroux seemed relieved, almost jaunty. ‘I have no idea. But I doubt it.’
‘Did Jadway have Cassie McGraw bring his letters to you?’
‘I believe he mailed one or two. The others she brought to me in person.’
‘You appear to have seen a good deal of Cassie McGraw. Can you remember how many times you saw her?’
Before Leroux could reply, the District Attorney sounded his objection. The question was irrelevant, he stated. What Duncan did not state, Barrett now perceived, was that Duncan himself had not been allowed to bring Cassie McGraw into the case, and now he was against the defense counsel’s attempting to do so. Barrett heard Judge Upshaw’s prompt agreement with the objection.
Since Barrett had expected this, he was ready with another line of questioning. ‘Mr Leroux, let’s devote ourselves once more tc the book, to The Seven Minutes. You have told the court that you eventually sold your rights in it to another publisher. Do you remember
this other publisher’s name r
The District Attorney’s objection forestalled.any reply. Barrett requested a bench conference with Judge Upshaw. It was of brief duration. Barrett explained that his question was intended to lay a foundation to explore the integrity and honesty of this key witness. After hearing out both counsels, the judge overruled Duncan’s objection and advised Barrett to proceed.
Confronting the witness once more, Barrett repeated his question. ‘You sold your rights to The Seven Minutes to another publisher. Do you remember this other publisher’s name?’
‘I do not remember his name,’ said Leroux.
‘Perhaps I can refresh your memory. Was the publisher to whom you sold the rights a man named Norman C. Quandt, who was indicted in New York for peddling hard-core pornography?’
‘Quandt ? Yes, I believe that was his name. Thank you.’
‘Why did you sell Mr Quandt all rights to The Seven Minutes ?’
‘I have already testified to my reason. I feared the book had a destructive influence. I wanted to be rid of it. I was relieved to be rid of it.’
‘Yet, Mr Leroux, you were not concerned that by selling the book to another publisher you were keeping alive its so-called destructive influence?’
‘No, I was not concerned - because I did not think Quandt would ever be allowed to publish the book. In the end I thought it would serve him as no more than a tax loss. I sold the book to kill it - and to save myself.’
‘And you had absolutely no other motive for selling it?’
‘None whatsoever.’
‘I see. And when did you give up the Etoile Press?’
‘Four years ago.’
‘For what reason did you give it up ?’
‘For the same reason I gave up The Seven Minutes. I had finally come to see the evil of publishing obscenity, and I wanted to sever my connection with it and start my life afresh.’
“This was your only purpose?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well, now…’ Barrett strode to the desk of the court clerk, found the exhibit folder that he wanted, and returned to the witness box with it. 1 have here before me an interview, marked Exhibit H, a press interview you gave to a journalist from L’Express at the time. I have two copies. You may have one to follow me as I translate from the other. If I translate incorrectly,please stop me and correct me.’ He handed Leroux one clipping, and then he held the other before him. ‘In this interview, the reporter asks why you have given up publishing pornography. You answer as follows: “For the same reason there are fewer prostitutes today. Sex is too easily available everywhere for everyone in these new times. If it is free, why should one pay ?” Then, Mr Leroux, you go on and you are
quoted as saying, “In the years past, there was so much censorship, so much banned material, that we had the market for this material almost to ourselves. But since recognized publishing houses in every country are now allowed to publish freely what used to be banned, they are taking away our readers and the market that once belonged exclusively to the Obelisk Press, the Olympia Press, the Etoile Press. I have given up because I have lost my audience.”’ Barrett raised his head, ‘Will you acknowledge that you made those remarks?’
Leroux’s lips were pursed. At last he spoke. ‘I will acknowledge that I gave this interview and that it appeared in print. I will not acknowledge that I was quoted with exactitude.’
‘Do you disown this article completely?’
‘I do not disown it completely. I object to its lack of precision, its omissions, its overemphasis on one point. Yet, I may have made the remark that one minor factor that made me close the Etoile Press was the new sexual permissiveness in society today. But it was a secondary factor. The primary reason for my quitting was that I saw the dangers in unrelieved and obscene pornography, and as I had grown older and had more understanding of this, I wanted to do no more harm to my fellow human beings.’
‘Fine, and laudable,’ said Barrett. ‘Now, if you will look down at the last two paragraphs of that article, you will see a quotation from Maurice Girodias, who is identified there as the son of Jack Kahane, founder of the Obelisk Press. Girodias is further identified as the proprietor of the Olympia Press, another of your competitors. You see that?’
‘Yes.’
‘The reporter is quoting Girodias to you. He quotes Girodias as saying, in defense of his own publishing career, the following. “Obscenity and pornography are ugly phantoms which will disappear in the morning light when we rehabilitate sex and eroticism. We must accept love and lust as complementary movements, and not as incompatible elements. We must discover desire as the source of all the positive actions in our life, and stop opposing every natural instinct and every pleasure-giving activity. That result cannot be achieved without a series of mental shocks.”’ Barrett paused. ‘The reporter says he read you Girodias’ remarks and asked for your reaction to them. And here you reply, “I concur. I agree wholeheartedly with Mr Girodias. Those of us who’ve published obscenity and pornography should be honored. We destroyed taboos. We taught people that love and lust were one. We made sex healthy.” ‘ Barrett looked up. ‘Well, Mr Leroux, did you make those remarks that have been attributed to you? Yes or no?’
‘What was printed here is misleading.’
‘Can you give me a yes or no answer? Did you make those remarks?’
‘Yes, but-‘
Thank you, Mr Leroux.’
‘ - but in support of decent pornography that is literary, not for filth like The Seven Minutes!’
About to appeal to the bench to have Leroux’s outburst stricken, Barrett thought better of it. To some of the jurors, any protest about the behavior of the witness might seem like bullying. Barrett considered going on with the crossexamination. He had scored a few points, perhaps too few. Possibly Leroux had scored more for the prosecution. Still, in the minds of three or four jurors there might have been planted the first seeds of reasonable doubt. To go on, with a witness now so hostile, so aggressive, might lead to disaster.
From the exhibit and the notes in his hand, Barrett lifted his eyes to glance at his partner. Zelkin looked worried.
Red light.
Stop.
He faced the witness. ‘Thank you, Mr Leroux.’ He looked at the Judge. ‘I believe I have nothing further, Your Honor.’
He returned to the table and slumped wearily into his chair. ‘I did my best, Abe,’ he said. T tried. They’ve got Jadway’s life all tied up and they’ve put out the sign that says “No Trespassing.” What in the hell have we got ?’
Zelkin was looking off. ‘We’ve got a short recess, that’s what we’ve got.’
During the recess, the dark suspicion Mike Barrett had entertained earlier that Duncan and Mrs St Clair might arrange to have the French publisher continue his testimony in a more public place was confirmed.
In aprivate office on the sixth floor of the Hall of Justice, Barrett, followed by Zelkin and Fremont, joined Philip Sanford, who had his
mini-sized portable television set going full blast. The screen was filled with a closeup of Christian Leroux.
‘It’s a press conference somewhere in this building,’ explained Sanford hastily. ‘Mrs St Clair of the STDL arranged it. She’s got reporters from all over the world throwing questions at Leroux. She introduced him. She started by saying that since Leroux had completed his testimony in court, he was free to answer questions outside court, although he can’t discuss what he said in the courtroom until the verdict is in. Now he’s -‘
‘Let’s see for ourselves,’ said Barrett, pulling up a chair.
The four of them closed in on the tiny television set, as a voluble Christian Leroux, basking in the limelight, replied to the next reporter’s question.
‘No, I was not permitted to discuss J J Jadway’s death in the court,’ the French publisher was saying, ‘but I am willing to make the truth, every detail, known now. I heard the facts from Jadway’s mistress, Cassie McGraw. You want to know what led to Jadway’s
death? I will tell you. It was The Seven Minutes that killed him in the end. His family in New England did not know he had written this book. The first to learn of its existence was the elder of Jad-way’s two younger sisters. Foolishly, he had sent her a copy. According to Miss McGraw, he did not wish his sister to wither on the vine, become a dried-up spinster, so he decided to give her an example of his new freedom and inspire her to rebel also. He inspired her, I must say. The book so shook her that she took to drink and to having affairs with men, until she became a hopeless alcoholic tramp. I cannot say what happened to the other sister. I know only of how the older one was affected. At the same time, Jadv/ay’s father learned about the book because his Church had been circularized to condemn it. His father - especially after Jadway was excommunicated - his father suffered from the disgrace, and suffered an illness from which he never recovered. Also, according to Miss McGraw, the daughter of one of Jadway’s closest friends got her hands on The Seven Minutes while she was still an impressionable adolescent, and she was warped sufficiently by it to emulate the heroine of the book and she fell into evil ways.’
‘Fell into evil ways?’ The voice was plainly that of a German-accented correspondent. ‘Can you be more specific, Mr Leroux?’
(1969) The Seven Minutes Page 46
