Read Put a Lid on It for Free Online Page B

it.”
    “Yes, of course,” Benjamin agreed. “
This
contributor, however, is one of theirs, from a fine old Revolutionary-era family—”
    “Many of them on the wrong side even then,” Jeffords added snidely, “though they don't talk about that much any more.”
    “Nevertheless,” Benjamin said, “he is noted for his collection of antique firearms, exclusively from the periods of our Revolution, the War of 1812, and the Civil War. A well-known collection, occasionally on tour to American Legion posts, private schools, that sort of thing.”
    “And when it's at home,” Meehan said, “I bet they keep it locked up, being guns and all. And your package is in there with it.”
    “Exactly.”
    “So is it in the guy's house, or a separate building, or what does he—Wait a minute.”
    They looked at him. Benjamin said, “Yes?”
    “Just a minute,” Meehan said. “I think maybe I can do it for you.”
    Jeffords said, “Do it?”
    “Get you your package.” Meehan grinned at them. “Yeah, I think maybe so, maybe after all I can help you guys out.”

12
    “ I ' M GONNA NEED two things,” Meehan told them. “A pay phone, and my lawyer.”
    Jeffords said, “A pay phone? What do you mean, a pay phone?”
    “A phone you put money in,” Meehan explained.
    “I know
that
,” Jeffords said. “But if you want a phone—”
    “Security,” Benjamin gently told Jeffords. “He wants to make a secure call.”
    “Well, there is no such thing,” Jeffords said.
    “Some are more secure than others,” Meehan told him.
    Benjamin said, “If you don't mind the question, who is it you wish to call?”
    “The guy who takes stuff off my hands.”
    Benjamin nodded. “A fence, you mean.”
    “I know he can take computer chips,” Meehan said, “and I know he can take furs, and I know he can take oriental rugs. Muskets and blunderbusses, I dunno. I gotta ask him.”
    “My God,” Benjamin said, getting it, “you mean to steal the man's guns!”
    “Well, sure,” Meehan agreed. “That's what makes me stick around. I go in, even without you people watching me, I go in and I get your package, and while I'm there I pick up some stuff for myself.”
    Benjamin said, “You're telling us you mean to commit a burglary! And you're
telling
us!”
    “Mr. Benjamin,” Meehan said, “it was always gonna be a burglary. Didn't you know that? Somebody breaks in and takes away something doesn't belong to them, that's a burglary.”
    “But not for
profit
,” Benjamin insisted. “What we're talking about is politics.”
    “Dirty tricks,” Jeffords added.
    “Exactly,” Benjamin said.
    “Well, I only work for profit,” Meehan told him. “So I'll give you your choice. I'll stay here if you want, give you advice, you go in and do your best, maybe it'll work out, or maybe the papers get full of the president's campaign committee arrested for housebreaking.”
    “Oh, God,” Benjamin said.
    “Or,” Meehan went on, “you give me the layout, I go in, I get you your package, I pick up my profit at the same time.”
    Benjamin said, “Pat? What do you think?”
    “I think,” Jeffords said, “the man is asking us to be accessories to a felony.”
    Meehan said, “It always was a felony. Breaking and entering.”
    “Well, it didn't
feel
like a felony,” Jeffords said.
    “In my experience,” Meehan told him, “cops don't go by feelings.”
    “Well, Pat,” Benjamin said, “we wanted a professional, and I'd say we got one.”
    Jeffords looked bleak. “You want to go along with him.”
    “We told each other, Pat,” Benjamin said, “that what went wrong with the Watergate burglary years ago was that it was performed by amateurs. Ideologues, spies, political henchmen. Not a professional thief in the crowd. We told each other we should learn from that experience. Thus Francis Meehan. And thus, our burglary turns, I'm afraid, into an actual burglary.”
    Jeffords sighed. “Agreed,” he said, though without joy.
    Benjamin