Re: Chapter 1.2: Dark Thoughts
Walter awakes from a light doze in the armchair, Annabel's voice a soft murmur as she uses the telephone. He scrubs his hands over his face and stands, stretching. "I think I'll go up to my room," he says to no one in particular.
He mounts the stairs slowly and finds the guest room he's been assigned. He finds the two long, somewhat scuffed, calfskin gun-cases under the bed where Avery had them stowed. He wrestles them out one handed with a bit of difficulty.
Pulling his arm out of the sling, he perches on the edge of the skirted slipper chair and opens the cases. Humming quietly, he spends some time looking over the Lancaster Nitro Express double rifle and the BSA Lee-Speed Sporter, carefully checking the mechanisms until he is sure everything is alright. Returning the rifles to their cases (and noting that he only has two rounds for the Express and ten for the Sporter), he maneuvers them back under the bed.
Bo sits back in the chair for a few minutes, breathing heavier than he likes after the mild exertion, his ribs aching slightly. After a glass of water from the carafe by the bed, he unlocks his suitcase and withdraws two oilskin-wrapped items.
Crossing to the desk, he unwraps the hammerless Colt .38 autoload and the .45 Colt revolver. He gives them the same scrutiny he had bestowed on the rifles, but at the end of the process he loads both pistols, as well as the extra magazine for the automatic. I'll need more cartridges for these, too, he thinks, as he places the .45 back in the suitcase and slips the .38 under his pillow, the spare magazine going into his pocket.
He gently slides his arm back into the sling and lies down on the bed, careful to keep his shoes off the coverlet. He naps until called for luncheon.