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manner.”
    “Filling out reports,” Jeffords added, a bit resentfully, “every bloody step of the way.”
    “Precisely. You are not a thief,” Benjamin went on, “and nor am I. And nor is anyone else in the committee, nor anyone we are likely to know. We were right to outsource, and now we must follow through.”
    Jeffords sighed. “Not what I expected,” he said, “but I must agree. You know best.”
    “Thank you, Pat.” Benjamin turned his benevolent gaze on Meehan. “In truth, we wish to put you in the position of our vendor in this matter, and we now realize, which I'm sorry we didn't realize before, that as our vendor, it is necessary that you be put in the picture.”
    “Hit me,” Meehan said.

10
    F IRST THEY ALL had to fortify themselves with provisions: sausages and toast for Benjamin, two kinds of melon for Jeffords, and more black coffee for Meehan, who wanted his wits somewhere he could find them without trouble.
    At last, they were ready. “As you know,” Benjamin began, “here we are, coming down to the wire in the election campaign, and—” He broke off, frowned at the expression on Meehan's face, and said, “The election campaign. The reelection of the president.”
    “
You
know,” Jeffords encouraged.
    “I've been kinda busy,” Meehan reminded them. “Though, yeah, I guess I did see some headlines.”
    Benjamin was having trouble believing this. “Man, are you telling me you didn't
know
the president of the United States is running for reelection?”
    “I don't usually pay that much attention to politics,” Meehan admitted.
    Benjamin gave Jeffords a helpless look. “You try and you try,” he said, “to get your story out there.”
    “I know,” Jeffords said, sounding sympathetic. “And every time, it's eighty-five percent didn't know a thing about it.”
    “I must admit, there are moments,” Benjamin said, “I have my doubts about democracy. But you know what Churchill said.”
    “Of course,” Jeffords said.
    Meehan didn't know what Churchill said, but he was afraid, if he asked, Benjamin might start to cry, so he kept his mouth shut.
    Benjamin took a deep breath and a forkful of scrambled egg, and then apparently felt better, because he said, “Well, let me be the first to tell you, Francis, there
is
a presidential election campaign under way even as we speak, and it's moving into an extremely critical phase—”
    “Last minute,” Jeffords said.
    “That, too,” Benjamin said. “And you, Francis, if you so choose, can be a significant factor in how this election works itself out.”
    They didn't bring me all this way to ask me to register to vote, Meehan told himself. “I wouldn't mind being a good citizen,” he allowed.
    “I was sure that's how you'd feel,” Benjamin told him. “Now, Mr. Jeffords and I are, apart from other things, members of the CC, and we—”
    Jeffords said, “Wait, Bruce,” and to Meehan, “the Campaign Committee. We're part of the team to help reelect the president.”
    “Got it,” Meehan said.
    “Good,” Benjamin said. “Now we have learned, fortuitously and fortunately, that there is a piece of very bad evidence in existence—”
    “Videotaped confession,” Jeffords put in, “supporting documents.”
    “Exactly,” Benjamin said. “Extremely dangerous material in re POTUS. We have to—”
    “Whoa,” Meehan said. “Could you back to the last traffic light?”
    Jeffords said, “POTUS is president of the United States.”
    “Yeah? Sounds more stupid that way.”
    Reproving, Benjamin said, “We think it lends a homey touch.”
    Meehan shrugged. “Okay.”
    Jeffords said, “The point is, the Other Side has this material, and we very much need to get it away from them.”
    Meehan said, “But they've already got it? For how long?”
    “Two months,” Benjamin said, “possibly a bit more.”
    “We just learned about it,” Jeffords added, “this week.”
    Meehan said, “And they're just sitting on it? What are