They heard a muffled crack and a raised voice coming from behind the closed door across the hall. Since the language that went with the voice wasn't English they weren't exactly sure what was being said, but it wasn't good; they could tell that by the tone.
"You goin' in?" Chief asked.
"I'm not goin' in." Casino replied with a shake of his head and turned the question back on his young teammate. "You goin' in?"
Before the debate could escalate the door opened with a creak. Garrison stood in the opening. He was leaning on one hand that had a white-knuckle grip on the framework, the other clutched his knee. His features were pale and there was a slight sheen of sweat starting across his forehead. He managed one halting step towards them.
Casino and Chief got up and went across the hall to him. Each of them took an arm and slipped it over their shoulder. They carefully maneuvered the Lieutenant away from the door and back over to the fireplace. They settled him a chair that flanked the hearth and Chief carefully lifted his left leg up to rest on an ottoman. While they were doing that Goniff made his way to the cabinet in the corner of the room and back.
With a bottle poised over a glass the little cockney asked. "You want one finger, or two Warden?"
Garrison, who was leaned back in the wingback chair with his eyes closed, raised his hand; three stiffened fingers pointed skyward.
Casino gave a snort, Goniff's eyebrows rose to meet his hair but he shrugged and poured the measure and placed the glass in the Warden's hand. Garrison took the glass and, eyes still closed and without ceremony, knocked the liquor back in one swallow. He held the tumbler aloft for a refill. The three men standing around the chair shared a look and, rolling his eyes, the little burglar took the glass from their commander's hand to comply with the silent order.
Garrison finally opened his eyes, hiked himself back in the chair and sat forward to take a sip from his refill. "I'm going to kill that thing," he told them over the rim of his glass. "I'm going to take it out on the firing range and kill it."
"Blimey! That don't seem exactly fair, now does it?" the little cockney protested with a grin as he gathered up glasses for the three of them.
"Yeah!" the group's safecracker agreed. "It's you keeps doin' it."
Chief nodded his agreement. "You only got yourself to blame, man."
The chime of the neck of the bottle hitting the rim of the glass as Goniff filled the tumblers the others held was joined by their con man's deep voice.
"What has happened?"
Casino took a sip of the whisky and watched as the Italian made his way into the room. "What d'you think?"
The older man sighed and shook his head. "Goniff, go and get some ice, please." He ordered, taking charge.
"Blimey! The Warden don't ruin good whisky with ice, mate!" the group's pickpocket protested.
The look Actor turned on him was pinched and pained.
Goniff dipped his chin and then grinned around at the others. "Oh! Right!" He placed the bottle within Garrison's reach on the table next to the chair, and took off for the kitchen below.
Actor surveyed the Lieutenant's leg. The fabric over the knee was creased but clean. "You do not appear to have broken the skin," he observed, without adding 'this time' which was on the tip of his tongue.
"He's planning on killin' the desk down on the firing range." Casino informed the con man.
"The desk?" The Warden asked. "Who said anything about the desk!? It's that new chair!" He just managed to avoid wincing as Actor applied the ice pack Goniff had just delivered to his knee. "I think that thing has it in for me."
"That's a beautiful chair." The Italian pronounced. "I don't understand why you are having so much difficulty getting used to it.
"It moves too fast." Garrison was adamant. "I had to work at pushing the other one around. This new one just….shoots across the floor. And it spins at the drop of a hat." And this time he did wince as the pack was adjusted, "And I end up ramming my knee into every corner in that damned office."
Actor accepted the tumbler of whisky Goniff held out to him as they laughed at their commander. "Well, perhaps Mr. Morley could remove the wheels… Possibly that would make it a little safer for you."
The Warden took another sip of the whisky and swallowed a groan along with the liquor as he removed the numbing ice and started to massage his battered kneecap. "If it just wasn't the same one all the time…."