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m_findlowTitle: Ghost of a chance
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Owen
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 200 words
Content notes: none
Author notes: Written for Challenge 375 - Nothing to lose at ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
drabble_zone
drabble_zoneSummary: Owen knows it's a long shot but he has to meet the man behind the murder. A double drabble.
Owen pressed the doorbell, knowing that Jack would probably rip his balls off when he found out where Owen was. He didn’t even feel hungover, which was surprising given how much scotch he’d drunk last night trying to track the bugger down, but he’d done it. Edwin Morgan, 46 Pryse Avenue, Splott. Ed Morgan, who was still alive fifty years after he’d murdered Lizzie Lewis and gotten away with it.
Owen knew he had to pay him a visit. He wanted to see what a man looked like having carried that secret with him for decades. What he wanted more than anything was a confession; something that would be enough to put the bloke behind bars where he belonged. He’d already lived far longer than he deserved.
He half expected the door to go unanswered, but with enough pressing on the bell he could hear the muttered grumbles coming down the hallway towards him. Maybe this was a bad idea. What if Ed was readying a knife for him? That was, after all, his weapon of choice for killing young women.
A frail man opened the door. Owen invited himself in for a chat. What did he have to lose?
Owen pressed the doorbell, knowing that Jack would probably rip his balls off when he found out where Owen was. He didn’t even feel hungover, which was surprising given how much scotch he’d drunk last night trying to track the bugger down, but he’d done it. Edwin Morgan, 46 Pryse Avenue, Splott. Ed Morgan, who was still alive fifty years after he’d murdered Lizzie Lewis and gotten away with it.
Owen knew he had to pay him a visit. He wanted to see what a man looked like having carried that secret with him for decades. What he wanted more than anything was a confession; something that would be enough to put the bloke behind bars where he belonged. He’d already lived far longer than he deserved.
He half expected the door to go unanswered, but with enough pressing on the bell he could hear the muttered grumbles coming down the hallway towards him. Maybe this was a bad idea. What if Ed was readying a knife for him? That was, after all, his weapon of choice for killing young women.
A frail man opened the door. Owen invited himself in for a chat. What did he have to lose?
no subject
Date: 2023-12-08 09:55 pm (UTC)