Graham excused himself and went into the kitchen. He got the decanter of whisky, another of water, ice cubes, glasses.
When he returned to the living room, Niemand was just leaving the boy’s bedroom. He heard Niemand’s “Good night, Harry,” and Harry’s happy “ ’Night, Mr. Niemand.”
Graham made drinks. A little later, Niemand declined a second one and started to leave.
Niemand said, “I took the liberty of bringing a small gift to your son, doctor. I gave it to him while you were getting the drinks for us. I hope you’ll forgive me.”
“Of course. Thank you. Good night.”
Graham closed the door; he walked through the living room into Harry’s room. He said, “All right, Harry. Now I’ll read to—”
There was sudden sweat on his forehead, but he forced his face and his voice to be calm as he stepped to the side of the bed. “May I see that, Harry?”
When he had it safely, his hands shook as he examined it.
He thought, only a madman would give a loaded revolver to an idiot.