Anti-Hero | Tim Bradford

Chapter Thirty Five - Executing

27 Years Ago:

The dull flickering of the cheap lightbulb was the only source of light in the small living room of the rundown apartment. The tv, which had previously been the main output of light, had turned itself off hours ago. Normally, the light would have been turned off when the last person went to bed, the power bill was always far too high, so lights and appliances were always shut off.

The small apartment only housed three, the Matthews family. Thomas, Diane, and their eight-year-old daughter, Morgan. Both Thomas and Diane worked tirelessly, both taking a rotation of night-shifts so as to not leave Morgan alone at night, but sometimes it couldn't be helped, leaving one of the neighbours to check in on the young girl.

She had thought it to be one of those nights. It was only twenty minutes prior that she heard rustling in the living room. It was the crashing against countertops and the clattering of metal that had woken her. Mrs Newman from across the hall was half-blind, so when she heard the banging around, Morgan had tried to go back to sleep but her attempts didn't last long.

She could see the light creeping in from around her bedroom door. Her mother was always scolding her for leaving it on, so teddy-bear in hand, the young girl shuffled out of bed towards her door. Cracking it open, she peaked her head around to see if Mrs Newman had left only to find her father crumpled on the floor.

Teddy-bear still in hand, she moved over to her dad, trying to wake him up. She shook his shoulder, hoping the motion would bring him round. "Daddy. Daddy wake up!"

Pulling back from the still man, Morgan finally noticed that her hand had been touching something red and somewhat sticky. She tried to wipe it down her pyjama pants but the red stained her hand. Tears welling in her eyes, she tried waking her dad again. "Daddy, please. This isn't funny. Wake up!"

Her tear-filled pleas rippled through the room until the sound of the front door creaked open. Quickly, Morgan moved throughout the room to wrap her arms around her mother. Burying her head in her chest, Morgan hiccuped her words out. "Momma. It's dad. He won't wake up."

"What do you mean sweethe-" Diane Matthews said, her focus solely on her daughter until she looked up to see her husband's bloodstained body crumpled on the floor. "Oh. Oh sweetheart. Go to your room. Stay there"

Without room to argue, Diane dropped her handbag and ushered the young girl back into her bedroom. The second the door closed, Diane rushed towards her husband, trying to find a pulse on his cold body. She knew that he was dead from the second she saw him, but she just had to check, just in case.

Fighting back tears, Diane moved to grab the phone and call the police when she heard Morgan's door open again.

"Morgan, I told you to stay."

"I thought dad could use Teddy," The girl looked down at the bear she was still clutching. "It makes me feel better when I'm sleeping."

"Oh my sweet, sweet girl," Diane moved to take the bear from her daughter, wiping the tears forming in the young girl's eyes. "Now back to bed, I'll be there soon. Okay?"

"Okay, Momma. I love you."

"I love you too sweetheart," She replied but the bedroom door had already shut behind the girl.

—-

Now:

Nolan shuffled the papers between his hands, as he watched Morgan and Tim talk in the briefing room, trying to bide his time. Deep down he knew that he had to be truthful with her, and he knew that he would be, but he couldn't in good nature tell her what he had found without fact-checking it first.

The second Morgan left, he swooped in, speed walking to catch up with Tim. "Bradford, wait!"

Tim crossed his arms as he turned, not wanting to deal with whatever nonsense had sprouted from the bad luck charm which was the over-aged rookie. "Yes, Nolan. Be quick, me and Chen are hitting the streets soon."

"I just need you to double-check this. I'm pretty sure I got it right but-"

"Give it here," Tim snatched the paperwork from Nolan, cutting him off as he spoke. Quickly, he skimmed through the old case file, a cold case from the early 90's. "What am I checking because clearly you didn't write this?"

"Lopez asked me and Harper to run Sullivan's post mortem injuries through the system. See if it was related to... anything. There was one match, this case. Someone broke into a home, murdered the victim and left without taking anything. Wounds match perfectly."

Tim looked up to the other man. "Right, so how is this correlated?"

Instead of responding, Nolan pointed to the name adorning the top of the file, before then directing Tim's gaze to the relative's and the witnesses. Quickly he read, and then reread the name.

Tim swallowed as he processed the information. "It's her. If that is what you were implying."

"I thought as much. I wanted it vetted before I told the others. Just in case."

"Good call Nolan. Grab Harper and tell Grey, I'll call Morgan back to the station. Her and Lopez just left so they shouldn't have made it far."

"Will do." Nolan nodded, turning on his heel to go find Harper. He didn't make it far before he heard Bradford call him back.

"Nolan," he said, voice steady and sincere, "thank you. You did the right thing."