by A. A. Dhand
‘Ronnie—’ started Harry.
The gun was suddenly turned on him. ‘You’d best get walking,’ Ronnie told him, his voice seething with rage.
Harry shook his head. ‘You can’t end it like this.’
‘Are you defending her?’
‘No. But she’s right about one thing. This is your doing. This all started with you.’
‘Can you hear yourself? She killed Tara! Harry, she fucking killed my daughter!’ he screamed.
Harry flinched. He’d kill her himself if he were a different man.
‘She’ll answer for that,’ replied Harry, taking tiny steps towards his brother. ‘But with cuffs around her wrists, not a bullet in her head. You do this? I’ve got to take you in. I’m not bluffing, Ron. She’s damaged, no doubt. But not like the rest of them,’ he said, nodding back towards the farmhouse.
Ronnie opened the revolver, removing all the bullets except one.
‘Karma. You obsess about it, don’t you, Harry?’
He spun the barrel, dragging Sarah to her knees and placing the gun at her temple once more.
‘Eight to one.’
Sarah raised her chin. ‘After he puts a bullet in me, it’s on you, Harry. Protect this city. Protect girls like me from monsters like him. Otherwise I’ll be forced to curse you, and I’m going to be far worse than that door you can’t knock on.’
Her eyes shifted to Ronnie. ‘You might think you’ve won, but you’re always losing. Every day you disrespect your daughter’s death by doing what you do. She was innocent – that’s something I have to live with.’
Ronnie pressed the gun to her head and pulled the trigger.
Sarah didn’t flinch at the sound of an empty chamber.
‘Ronnie!’ Harry saw nothing but rage in his brother’s face.
‘You want the truth? Tara fucking hated you,’ said Sarah, spitting on the ground. ‘That’s what you were to her.’
Ronnie fired again. Another empty chamber.
‘Don’t!’ urged Harry. ‘If you do—’
‘You’ll what?’ Ronnie turned to face him. ‘You risked your life to save me, just so you could kill me five minutes later?’
Harry shrugged.
‘And Mum?’ asked Ronnie.
‘Ronnie? Put. The. Gun. Down.’
In that instant, Harry saw he would never win this argument. He lunged, striking the gun from Ronnie’s hand and taking him to ground.
The brothers scrambled in the dirt, adrenaline masking the pain in Harry’s shoulder.
After everything they had been through, it all came down to this: who would get to his feet first?
Ronnie trapped Harry in a choke-hold, rolling them both to
Sarah’s feet.
While they were fighting, she’d gone for the gun.
‘Don’t,’ said Harry to Sarah. Ronnie relaxed the choke-hold.
Sarah opened the barrel and put the lone bullet into the right slot. ‘You going to move?’ she said to Harry. ‘I don’t want to hit the wrong brother.’
Harry shook his head and stayed in front of Ronnie. ‘Don’t, Sarah.’
‘After all this,’ she said bitterly. ‘You think I’m not going to finish the job?’
‘Look at what you’ve done,’ hissed Ronnie to Harry.
‘I killed your niece,’ said Sarah. ‘And I did much worse than that in Pakistan to get here.’ Sarah turned the gun and put it underneath her chin. ‘If I miss Ronnie? You’ll arrest me. If I hit Ronnie, you’ll arrest me.’ Sarah got on her knees.
‘You don’t get your revenge, Ronnie, not tonight.’
Harry followed Sarah’s glance down to the tattoo on her hand.
GZ. Girl Zero.
‘You need to stop him, Harry,’ said Sarah. ‘If you don’t?’ She closed her eyes. ‘This moment will haunt you far worse than that green door you can’t knock on.’ Then she tensed her jaw, and as the tears ran down her face she pulled the trigger.
FIFTY-EIGHT
HARRY TURNED AWAY from Sarah’s body.
Ronnie remained by his side, arms folded, head bowed. Not out of respect for Sarah but because he knew tonight was the end.
‘You’re toxic,’ whispered Harry. ‘Everything about you. I’m always going to be in the firing line. Always.’
‘Walk away,’ replied Ronnie.
‘Not like this.’ Harry nodded down the hill towards the farmhouse. ‘Four dead, Ronnie. What are you not seeing here?’
‘Bradford won’t miss them.’
Harry shook his head, exhaling deeply. Turning finally to look at Sarah.
‘I never groomed her,’ Ronnie protested.
‘Come on.’
‘If it hadn’t been drugs, it would’ve been booze. If not booze, something else. You can’t pin their evil on me.’
‘Just let it go. You’ve got enough money.’
‘It’s not about money.’
‘Then what?’
‘Bradford. I’m changing this city.’
‘Look at what’s just happened. Are you fucking blind?’
Ronnie remained silent, stony-faced.
‘We need to clean this up,’ said Ronnie.
‘Without you, there’d be nothing to clean.’
‘I’ve told you before; you remove me and someone else rises to the top, someone you can’t work with.’
‘Does it look like we’re working together?’
‘Every business has a bad week.’
‘A bad week? A bad fucking week? Is that what Tara’s death is to you? Jesus Christ—’
‘Hey!’ Ronnie stepped in front of Harry so they were eye to eye. ‘You lose a child? Then you get to talk about it. Until then, shut the fuck up.’
For the first time, Harry could see his father’s rage and inability to back down in Ronnie’s eyes. It made him step back.
‘What have you become?’ he whispered.
‘By dawn, there’ll be no trace.’
Harry looked at Sarah. ‘And her?’
Ronnie gritted his teeth. ‘I’ll feed her to the fucking dogs.’
Harry’s body tensed.
‘You deal with her then,’ Ronnie sighed. ‘We’re on the moors. You want a shovel?’
Harry pushed him. ‘Don’t you test me, Ronnie.’
‘Why? What are you going to do about it? Shit, you can’t get some teenage prick who burgled our store twenty years ago out of your head.’
‘You can’t hold that over me for ever.’
‘I can. I will. It’s put us here. You don’t like it? Too fucking bad.’
‘This has to stop,’ said Harry. ‘You’re done.’
‘I’ve got a mess to clean up. Don’t make threats you can’t see through.’
Harry lifted Sarah’s body from the ground, cradling her in his arms. ‘You see this?’
Ronnie stared into Harry’s eyes.
‘She’s a child.’
‘She could have taken the shot at me.’ Ronnie stood his ground, returning Harry’s glare. ‘Go home, little brother. We’re done here.’
Harry felt Sarah’s blood dripping through his fingers. He was taken back twenty years. Blood soiling his karma.
He thought about her last words. How this moment would haunt him as much as 19 Belle Avenue. Harry replaced her body on the ground. He picked up the gun, covered in Sarah’s blood, and handed it to Ronnie. ‘You’ve got bullets in your pocket?’
Ronnie nodded.
‘Right here, right now; I want you to remember I gave you a choice. If you don’t want me to bring you down, this is your chance.’
Ronnie sniggered. ‘You love this macho shit, don’t you?’
‘If you walk from this? If you choose that life? I’m coming for you, Ronnie. This city needs rid.’
Ronnie took the weapon from Harry, removed a bullet from his pocket and loaded it into the gun. He forced it back into Harry’s hand, raising it to his own temple.
‘How about I give you the choice, little brother?’ Ronnie let go, l
eaving Harry with his finger on the trigger. ‘You choose: your brother or your damn city.’
Harry tensed his hand, seeing more and more of his father in Ronnie. If one man had never changed, what hope was there for the other?
End this now.
Harry’s jaw quivered. ‘I want to,’ he whispered. ‘Believe me, I want to.’
Ronnie closed his eyes. ‘Here. Is this better?’
‘Shit!’ screamed Harry, throwing the gun to the floor. ‘Shit!’
‘Go home. We’re done.’
Harry turned away, lifting Sarah’s body once more. He hated what she had done but couldn’t leave her for Ronnie to throw to the dogs. With moonlight casting his shadow long across the moors, fireworks exploding in the distance and the Cow and Calf Rocks looming above him, he walked away from his brother, knowing their relationship was over.
Knowing Bradford had room for only one of them.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
Girl Zero is a work of fiction and, to that effect, the timings of Diwali and Ramadan within the book are not accurately reflected.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Thank you, once again, to my friend Vinod Lalji – I don’t know what I would do without you! You’re always there for crisis management and to help me create anarchy with the plot.
Darcy Nicholson – my stellar editor. For a writer to be unable to find the words to describe just how hard you have worked with me must be a first! Thank you for always offering solutions to problems and for keeping me on-point. Quite simply – you rock.
My publisher at Transworld, Bill Scott-Kerr, and my agent, Simon Trewin, for launching Harry Virdee into the mainstream. Guys, you started something far removed from ‘ordinary’ and I’m very grateful.
Thank you to every member of the team at Transworld for collectively working so hard on Girl Zero and for shaping it into the book it has become.
Thanks to former DCI Stephen Snow for allowing me to pester you even when you were working in a different continent! Any police errors in the book are strictly mine, but having your support has been invaluable.
The ‘Crime and Publishment’ team for weekly encouragement and help when it was needed. It is so important to have a network of peers who are never more than a social-media click away. I look forward to more ‘word-count-Wednesday’ competitiveness!
Morgen Bailey for an early analysis of the book and for your constant positivity.
To my family for allowing me to become (more) anti-social than usual, and for their unwavering support.
Final words, as always, for my wife. A famous author once said,
‘… write for one special person …’
And I do.
When I see you completely lost in the world I’ve created, it makes it all worthwhile. A sly smile, the widening of your eyes or the shedding of a tear – it is in those exclusive moments, when words become emotions, that ‘team A. A. Dhand’ wins.
So keep doing what you do – it makes me do what I do.
About the Author
A. A. Dhand was raised in Bradford and spent his youth observing the city from behind the counter of a small convenience store. After qualifying as a pharmacist, he worked in London and travelled extensively before returning to Bradford to start his own business and begin writing. The history, diversity and darkness of the city have inspired his Harry Virdee novels.
Also by A. A. Dhand
STREETS OF DARKNESS
For more information on A. A. Dhand,
see his website at www.aadhand.com
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First published in Great Britain in 2017 by Bantam Press
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Copyright © A. A. Dhand 2017
Cover photograph © Room the Agency/Alamy
Design by Stephen Mulcahey/TW
A. A. Dhand has asserted his right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.
This book is a work of fiction and, except in the case of historical fact, any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
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Version 1.0 Epub ISBN 9781473540453
ISBN 9780593076668
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