Brass Go-Between by Ross Thomas

worked the four-to-twelve shift at the museum, Tuesday through Saturday. His wife wouldn’t or couldn’t tell us much. She didn’t even know the name of the pusher. The neighbors said that the Sacketts were quiet, sent the oldest kid to the first grade every morning and all. The two youngest aren’t old enough to go to school yet. The only thing they noticed, the neighbors, I mean, is that the Sacketts the past few weeks have just got quieter and quieter. They didn’t go out, not even on Sundays and Mondays when Sackett was off. You can do that on dope, you know. It’s not like booze. You can keep going through the motions of everyday living, wash the dishes, clean the house, go to the job, and all. Everything’s fine as long as you got your supply.”
    “What was that doctor’s name?” Fastnaught asked. “The one who was hooked and kept on operating, three, maybe four or five times a day.”
    “His name was Mager,” Demeter said. “Now there’s one who really had a habit, but he just kept on carving away and nobody ever suspected anything.”
    “What happened?” I said.
    “He scheduled ten operations for one day, woke up, and decided he couldn’t face it so he turned himself in. Right here. Well, not exactly here, it was down the hall. He’s down in Lexington still, I understand.”
    “He was a hell of a fine doctor,” Fastnaught said.
    “Uh-huh,” Demeter said. “Well, we checked out the guys that Sackett worked with at the museum and they hadn’t noticed anything different. Sackett had always kept to himself kind of and he just got to be more of a loner, they said. He did his work all right, but that just meant punching in every twelve minutes while he covered his area.”
    “He was assigned to the African Exhibition?” I said.
    “Right,” Demeter said. “It’s a pretty big exhibit. You get a chance to look at it?”
    “No,” I said.
    “You ought to drop by. They got some real interesting stuff although it’s a little weird in my opinion.”
    “I liked the masks,” Fastnaught said. “They got some of the goddamndest masks you ever saw. Real Halloween stuff.”
    “Well,” Demeter said, “Sackett asked to be assigned to the African exhibit. It wasn’t anything unusual. They change the guards around all the time. Some come off the day shift and go on nights. Some trade off from the midnight-to-eight shift with those who work the four-to-midnight. The museum closes at six and then the guard complement is reduced by forty percent. Sackett was assigned to the African exhibit because he was the first to apply for it. Fact is, he applied for it a month before it opened.”
    “He’d been hooked by then?” I said.
    “Probably,” Demeter said. “The way I figure it is that the bunch who stole this shield knew they couldn’t get into that place without inside help. It’s wired with the goddamndest alarm system you ever saw. Electric eyes all over the place. Pressure plates. You name it. So they picked Sackett, promised him a fat share, got him hooked on heroin, even got him to get his wife hooked, kept him well supplied, and the day after the exhibit opened they waltzed off with the prize piece.”
    “How’d they get in,” I said, “through the front door?”
    “I don’t think they ever got in,” Demeter said, and puffed some cigar smoke at the ceiling and cocked an eye at me to see how I liked his last statement.
    “Why not?”
    “The doors,” Fastnaught said. “They’re electrically sealed at six o’clock.”
    “Except one,” Demeter said.
    “That’s right,” Fastnaught said. “Except one.”
    “It’s an emergency door that leads from the basement up a ramp to the loading area in the rear. It’s electrically sealed only one way. What I mean is that the door can be opened from the inside without touching off the alarm system, but it can’t be opened from the outside without all hell breaking loose. You follow me?”
    I said that I did.
    “The guards use the