Chapter 195

Chapter 195. Revenge (3)

Bradley tossed away the nail and collapsed into a chair, his face drawn with exhaustion.

“When they started forcing people to attend meetings, breaking into homes to hunt down those who didn’t show up, my father planned to escape with our family. They discovered this and dragged my parents away.”

“How did you escape?”

“…Father had taught me how to drive.”

Bradley fled to Suffolk with his sister in their father’s truck, planning to hide until dawn. Turner’s influence shouldn’t have reached that far. But worry for his parents gnawed at him. Bradley hid his sister and returned to the village on foot, careful to avoid being seen. And what he found in that pit was…

“Why do you think the sheep died like that?”

“…”

Liam and I couldn’t speak. It was impossible.

“What they did to the village animals wasn’t some killer’s practice run. Mr. Osmond, that’s the one thing you got wrong in your deductions. I wanted to see if they remembered ‘that’ incident. If the people involved remembered the family of four who lived in that house…”

Liam stopped pressing Bradley. Even Liam, who excelled at pushing suspects to their limits for confessions, seemed unable to speak further about this situation. He was clearly shaken.

This was the same Liam who always said removing personal feelings was the most important part of profiling. Prejudices, personal views, preconceptions – he’d said you must face cases like observing objects, excluding all these…

Yet his face showed a quiet revulsion that any human would feel. Others might not notice, but I could read it. Even after a hundred years, you’re still human after all.

Liam clasped my hand on his shoulder.

“Go ahead and arrest me.”

Bradley spoke as if resigned.

“I’ve already killed the one I wanted to hurt most anyway.”

“…That corpse.”

Liam’s words came out like a groan.

Yes, that corpse, methodically mutilated with pure hatred. Recreating the same procedure they’d used on Bradley’s parents, just like the sheep…

Bradley smiled brightly.

“People who try to talk you out of revenge must be brain-damaged. How could anyone not do it when it feels this satisfying? Now that I’ve killed that bastard, Turner’s dog who deserved worse than being torn apart, I can finally sleep peacefully.”

Bradley Miller set down his weapons and calmly raised both hands to show us. He seemed to have no will to fight anymore.

Turner lay critically wounded at Bradley’s feet anyway, and would need incredible luck to fully recover. His age would slow his healing.

“It’s a shame I couldn’t kill everyone in the village. You arriving here wasn’t part of my plan. I’d intended to take my revenge on this entire village slowly, meticulously.”

“You didn’t expect Ms. O’Brien to ask for help.”

“True. Knowing how kind Nicole is, acting so obviously was my downfall.”

Did he want to be discovered? I couldn’t tell. I’m not someone who can perfectly understand criminals’ minds. I’m too inexperienced to think like them. My personal views are also my weakness. Sometimes it’s hard to maintain even the most basic principle of not getting emotionally involved in cases.

“Miss, you can call the police in now.”

I nodded and carefully called toward the hallway, “You can come in.” Two officers entered and handcuffed Bradley.

Just then, Turner, Bradley’s target for revenge, seemed to be slowly regaining consciousness, letting out a faint groan. I quickly checked his pupils and condition. His broken ankle would need immediate hospital treatment.

That’s when it happened. Turner’s eyes met Bradley’s, and as if possessed, he reached toward the floor and grabbed the hammer. My skin prickled with goosebumps – goosebumps that hadn’t appeared even when seeing the corpse.

‘…Magic?’

Instinct warned me. I had to stop this. What would follow would be anything but pleasant for Liam and me.

As I moved to stop Turner, Liam hastily pulled me back. He must have thought Turner was attacking me.

“No, it’s not me!”

I shouted desperately.

Not me. Don’t protect me. Rather…

“That person…!”

Crack.

The sound of something solid being crushed. Viscous liquid splattered on the floor.

Though I didn’t want to believe it, there was too much visual information flooding in. The young officer who witnessed this head-on couldn’t help but retch. Bradley stared at Turner’s sprawled body for a moment before breaking into maniacal laughter.

Liam shouted at Bradley.

“What did you do?”

He must have suspected some magical intervention. Probably similar to what I’d sensed. Since he could no longer sense magic, Liam seemed to have deduced only that ‘someone’ had given Turner an order.

Liam asked again.

“Did you do this?”

But we all knew Bradley wouldn’t answer.

* * *

The case was over.

Three deaths. One perpetrator.

Bradley Miller was immediately arrested, and his recorded confession went to the police. Handcuffed and compliant, Bradley paused briefly when he saw Ms. O’Brien. But that was all. Without a word, he obediently followed police instructions and got into the patrol car.

With the case solved, we had no reason to stay in the village. Liam and I took one last look at the village panorama before booking tickets for the earliest departing train.

Liam quietly wrapped an arm around my waist, lost in thought. The village’s atrocities, Bradley, and the shock Ms. O’Brien must have felt complicated our minds. Liam Moore nuzzled my shoulder before letting out a deep sigh.

Few cases end this unsatisfactorily. It felt like holding the very end of a thread while thinking everything was over.

I absently put my hand in my coat pocket and pulled out something that caught my fingers. A photo. The family photo of young Bradley. I must have forgotten I’d pocketed it in our rush to get here. I asked vacantly.

“…What should we do with this?”

I stared at the photo. An image printed on thick photo paper, showing an ordinary family. Liam shrugged. Still in his embrace, I bounced slightly with the movement.

“Not sure. Should we return it?”

I could see Ms. O’Brien standing dazed in the distance. Even after the police left, she remained rooted to the spot, motionless. Learning that someone who was both a colleague and once a husband had committed murder must be beyond easy acceptance.

I was just running my finger along the photo’s edge, thinking about whether to return it to Ms. O’Brien…

…Wait. The photo feels thicker than expected?

I carefully ran my finger along the photo’s edge. It definitely didn’t seem to be just one photo. Like two photos had stuck together from humidity or something…

After handling it several times, the edge of the photos began to separate slightly. I carefully gripped the edge and slowly pulled them apart, taking care not to tear or damage them.

“There are two photos.”

The revealed photo was very strange.

A black photo, showing something whitish that was almost impossible to make out. An eye? Or a hand? It gave off an odd feeling of drawing in your gaze.

But as I looked at it, the photo seemed to move on its own. But how could a photo move? That’s impossible…

Liam’s hand covered my eyes. I felt as if I’d suddenly woken from a dream. Cold sweat dampened my cheeks. I took a deep breath and grasped Liam’s hand covering my eyes.

It’s okay. I won’t lose my mind over something like this yet. We still have plenty of time.

“…Are you alright?”

Liam asked.

“I’m fine.”

Liam studied my expression as if he didn’t quite believe me. I cleared my throat and twisted my sweaty hair into a single bunch. The cold wind cooling my neck finally helped clear my head. I muttered.

“Looks like something that shouldn’t have been photographed got captured.”

We couldn’t give this to Ms. O’Brien. Someone like her, with no resistance to these things, might go mad if she saw it.

I returned only the clean photo to Ms. O’Brien, keeping the other one. The train was due to arrive soon.