City of Sinners

by Dhand, A. A.

  She knew she’d been right when, aged twenty-two, she’d patched up the detective who’d come into A&E after a fight. That meeting with Harry had changed everything.

  The fall-out had been severe.

  The scar on her face, a result of telling her family about Harry and standing firm that she would not marry Adnan.

  Shame.

  Dishonour.

  One day, Saima had simply left home.

  Her family had tried to make her see sense. Hassled her at work. Saima had threatened them by pointing out Harry was a policeman and that if they continued to harass her, Harry would make sure his colleagues arrested them.

  Finally, they had left her alone.

  Saima had never told Harry about Adnan.

  She hadn’t seen the point. The marriage, as far as she was concerned, was no more than a telephone exchange. She had met him only once as a fifteen-year-old at Mumtaz restaurant. Even then the families had spoken about their future union. Now that she had retracted her paperwork to allow him into the country, she had simply thought nothing more of it.

  Saima had learned that Adnan had finally made it into the country and married another girl from their community. She had believed the matter closed.

  When she had rekindled her relationship with Nadia and seemingly cleared the air with Imran, she had been buoyed by the weight of knowing everybody had moved on.

  Water under the bridge.

  Darker times giving way to light.

  Imran entered the room, his face twisted into a hatred Saima now understood.

  She tried to talk but the tape over her mouth was strong.

  Aaron was still crying.

  He’s in pain, she thought.

  Imran closed the door and came close to her, Old Spice aftershave poorly masking the smell of sweat.

  He kneeled by her side, eyes dark as stone.

  ‘Now you will learn that those words you whispered down the phone were not just words.’

  ‘I—’

  Imran raised his hand for her to be quiet.

  ‘Enough! You were so pure, so perfect. There was no need for you to sin as you did. Everyone in this city has forgotten their values, our values. But no more.’

  Imran placed his hand on Saima’s. ‘My brother will fall tonight. And when he does, what is his will become mine.’

  EIGHTY-THREE

  BRADFORD ROYAL INFIRMARY was fast becoming a place Harry never wanted to return to. He’d been here too much recently for his liking.

  One eye on the clock, he was in desperate need of treatment. He saw one of Saima’s friends bustle past, gave her a wave, and she returned moments later to call him through. He identified himself to the night sister, Linda, who was friendly with Saima, and she saw to it that he was treated without delay.

  ‘Saw Balraj earlier for a prescription for Aaron. Said he was working a six-six?’ said Harry, trying to sound calm when he was anything but.

  ‘He is. In a piss-bad mood. Always is, on his first night shift,’ she said, looking at Harry’s arm. The injury was just below his left shoulder.

  ‘You’re lucky,’ said Linda. ‘It’s only a flesh wound, but it is going to need stitches.’

  ‘How long?’

  ‘I’ll get straight on to it. Gonna need a clean, a tetanus shot and maybe two dozen stitches.’

  ‘How long?’ said Harry again, impatient.

  ‘Thirty minutes.’

  He nodded, checked his mobile and read the message his brother had sent him.

  Don’t stress about the old man. He’s right where he needs to be.

  So Ronnie had Adnan. He could afford to take a breath.

  But not for long.

  Harry’s mind raced as Linda treated the wound. He didn’t feel the pain, the fear of what Saima and Aaron were going through was far worse.

  He sent Ronnie a hurried text.

  Any news from the old man since I saw him?

  No change.

  Ronnie could be a sadistic bastard when he put his mind to it. Harry wasn’t sure how Adnan would fare under Ronnie’s scrutiny.

  ‘How do you feel?’ Linda asked when she was done.

  ‘Light-headed,’ said Harry. ‘A little sick.’

  ‘Did you bang your head when you fell?’

  Harry nodded, he knew everything she needed to hear.

  ‘Should have mentioned that earlier. I’m going to have to keep you in for observation.’

  Harry nodded, here was the risky bit. ‘Get me five minutes with Balraj, will you.’

  ‘I did page him.’

  ‘Try it again. Tell him Harry’s here.’

  ‘Come on, come on,’ whispered Harry checking his watch again: 01:35.

  By his estimation, four hours since Saima had been taken. When Harry had spoken to her at nine thirty, she’d sounded normal.

  What the hell had happened in the hour between that call and Adnan surrendering to Harry?

  Saima was leverage for Adnan, leverage he had intended to use.

  ‘Harry?’ said Balraj, coming into the side room, stethoscope bouncing around his neck, shirt hanging out of his trousers.

  ‘Hey,’ said Harry sitting up on the bed.

  ‘Shit, are you okay?’

  ‘Flesh wound,’ said Harry. ‘Listen, I need a favour.’

  ‘Linda was saying you were feeling light-headed? A little sick?’

  Harry told him he had made that up so they would admit him for a few hours.

  ‘Why?’ asked Balraj, confused.

  ‘I’ve got to leave, mate, but I need an alibi in case what I’ve got to do goes bad.’

  Balraj shook his head, more confused than ever.

  ‘Look, I’ve got a massive case about to break and two people’s lives are at risk. I’m the only one with the intel to save them, but I need to do it off the books – and for that I need an airtight alibi. We’ve been brothers since the corner shop days and you’ve never let me down.’

  Balraj nodded, having never seen Harry so panic-stricken before.

  ‘Sure. Whatever you need.’

  ‘I need to be here “in spirit” for the next six-to-eight hours. Can you sort that?’

  Balraj nodded. ‘I’ll document I’m keeping you in. Possible concussion.’

  ‘Where’s the CCTV in this place? How do I get out without being seen?’

  ‘Out of here. Left and straight down the corridor leading to the ambulance bays. There’s cameras out there, though.’

  ‘On the left, or right?’

  ‘Right.’

  ‘Can you give me a towel? Make it look like I’m holding an ice pack?’

  ‘I can get you an ice pack if you want?’

  ‘No time,’ said Harry.

  Balraj stepped out and returned a few seconds later with a folded towel.

  ‘Perfect.’

  ‘Harry, what’s going on?’

  Harry didn’t answer and got off the bed, grabbed an unopened packet of cheap hospital paper towels and wrapped the towel around them, making it look like an ice pack.

  ‘Just buy me a window to leave without one of your colleagues seeing, and make sure you document that I was here until six and left soon after.’

  Balraj stepped outside and after a couple of minutes gave Harry the all-clear to leave.

  Outside, holding the towel against his cheek to prevent his face from being seen and keeping his head down, Harry hurried towards the exit, on to Duckworth Lane. He saw Ronnie’s Range Rover parked on the other side of the road, covered in snow, and walked cautiously on the footpath.

  ‘We good?’ said Harry, getting into the passenger seat.

  Enzo pulled away, accelerating quickly.

  ‘We good?’ asked Harry more forcefully.

  Enzo nodded. ‘Piece of cake,’ he said amicably. ‘My boys didn’t cut you too hard, did they?’

  ‘No. It was perfect. Serious enough to need treatment, not so serious they put me out of commission. Is he talking yet?’

&nbs
p; ‘No.’ Enzo’s eyes stayed glued to the road ahead. ‘We don’t have the luxury of time if we’re going to end this with a good result, Harry.’

  ‘Don’t worry. I only need five minutes with him.’

  Enzo glanced at Harry, uncertain.

  ‘Everyone has a weakness,’ said Harry. ‘And I know his.’

  EIGHTY-FOUR

  HARRY ENTERED QUEENSBURY tunnel alone having dispatched Enzo to the other side of Bradford. He needed a backup in case Adnan proved tougher to crack than Harry anticipated.

  Serial killers were always after the same thing: control.

  If Harry took that away from him, he’d have the best shot of saving his family.

  Harry heard screaming in the distance.

  As he got closer to it, he realized it wasn’t screaming.

  It was laughter.

  Harry turned his torch off as he arrived beside Ronnie, who put down the blowtorch. Sweat was dripping down his face and he had blood spattered across his hands.

  Adnan was kneeling on the ground, bloodied and bruised, burn-marks on his chest.

  ‘Won’t talk,’ said Ronnie. ‘Not yet anyway. If we had a couple of days, we’d do it. But time’s the one thing we don’t have. How’s the arm?’

  ‘I’ll live,’ said Harry, kneeling beside Adnan. ‘What is it that you want, you sick fuck?’

  Adnan spat a mouthful of blood at Harry which fell short. He wiped his face with the back of his hand.

  ‘What are you?’ said Adnan. ‘A police officer? Or a criminal? It’s hard to keep track of you, Harry.’

  ‘I’m a lot of different things. Right now? I’m a husband looking for his family.’

  Adnan stared at Ronnie. ‘And you?’

  ‘I’m here to get the job done.’

  ‘I won’t tell you where they are. It’s time for you to suffer like I have.’

  Harry got to his feet and told Ronnie to bring Adnan to the mouth of the tunnel and leave the tools he was using to torture him with.

  Ronnie pulled Harry aside.

  ‘Why?’ he said. ‘Clock’s ticking.’

  ‘Pain isn’t going to work with him, I’m going to show him he’s not the only one with something to lose.’

  Outside, Harry threw Adnan on the ground.

  Adnan’s blood soiled the snow and he grimaced as the cold sliced through his wounds.

  ‘Your phone,’ said Harry to Ronnie. ‘Facetime Enzo.’

  Ronnie stared at Harry, puzzled. ‘Say again?’

  ‘Do it.’ Harry kicked out at Adnan. ‘You like the video-call thing, don’t you? Let’s see how you like being on the receiving end this time.’

  Enzo answered quickly, Ronnie immediately passing the phone to Harry.

  ‘Show me,’ he said, then crouched by Adnan’s side and showed him the screen.

  Adnan stared at Harry with intense hatred. Then he looked at the phone and slowly his smirk faded.

  ‘Thing is, those guys who bust you out of prison? They’re now outside that care home your darling mother is in. I don’t like to take advantage of an elderly woman, but if you don’t tell me where my wife and son are? I’m going drag her from that place, bring her here, put her in the tunnel and make sure she lives the next year in darkness. With the rats. And the cold.’

  Adnan’s jaw tensed.

  ‘I don’t care about her. It’s why I put her there.’

  Harry laughed.

  ‘I’ve seen your phone records. You call the home on average six times a day. You visit her twice daily. You take her food in. Even this week, when you’ve been killing innocent girls and fucking with my city, you still had time for Mummy, didn’t you?’

  Harry stood up and kicked Adnan, who no longer looked so pleased with himself.

  ‘Typical little Asian boy, pandering to his mum even when he’s a grown man. You’re pathetic.’

  ‘You leave her alone,’ spat Adnan, every word now laced with panic.

  ‘Enzo,’ said Harry, turning the phone towards him. ‘Lift her. Strip her naked and put her in the boot.’

  ‘No!’ screamed Adnan, and stood up suddenly, lunging for Harry. He knocked the phone from Harry’s hands and got his bloodstained hands around his neck, his grip powerful in spite of the injuries Ronnie had inflicted.

  Ronnie pulled him away and threw him on the ground.

  ‘Got you,’ whispered Harry, wiping Adnan’s blood from his neck.

  Harry picked up the iPhone. The screen showed Enzo, walking towards the care home.

  ‘You want to watch?’ he said to Adnan, who was back on his feet. Harry turned the phone so Adnan could see.

  ‘Your choice. Either I take the only thing you care about and stick her in a place worse than any hell you’re going to,’ said Harry, pointing behind him at the tunnel, ‘or we end this now.’

  Adnan was breathing heavily, his eyes shifting from the phone to Harry.

  On screen, Enzo reached the front entrance of the care home and rang the doorbell.

  ‘Okay!’ shouted Adnan. ‘You tell him to back away. You tell him to leave her!’

  ‘Stand down, Enzo,’ said Harry, speaking into the phone and showing it to Adnan, who watched Enzo retreat to his car.

  Harry ended the call.

  ‘Now,’ he said stepping closer to Adnan. ‘I’m not going to ask again. Where are Saima and Aaron?’

  ‘If I help you here, you’ll kill me. Take me back to the police station and I will tell you everything.’

  ‘No, you fucked that up already,’ said Harry. ‘You’ll come with us now. I take my family back and your brother takes you. An exchange. After that? It’s on you. You can try running from the police if you like but I’m sure they’ll find you.’

  ‘How do I know you’ll leave my mother alone?’

  ‘Because, unlike you, I’m not a sociopath. I’ll do whatever it takes to get Saima and Aaron back, but once I have them, this ends.’

  Harry dialled Enzo again, the rings audible for Adnan to hear.

  ‘You’ve got until he answers. You haven’t told me by then, nothing saves your mother,’ said Harry, coolly using every last bit of patience he had.

  First ring.

  Second.

  ‘They’re at a warehouse at Leeds – Bradford Airport,’ said Adnan.

  EIGHTY-FIVE

  THEY ARRIVED AT the airport forty minutes later, Ronnie’s Range Rover easily cutting through the snow.

  Harry sat in the back wringing his hands, eyes staring out the window.

  Ronnie pulled off the A58 and away from the main terminal building, under instruction from Adnan. Behind, Enzo was following in another vehicle.

  They drove a mile and pulled into a large industrial estate; it looked like a new cargo area was being built.

  ‘Where now?’ said Ronnie, slowing down.

  ‘If we give you what you want, you will kill us,’ said Adnan.

  Harry wanted to put his head through a window.

  ‘Nothing would give me more pleasure. But you’re forgetting one thing. My son’s in there. I’m not putting him through that. We’re doing this by the book.’

  Harry leaned forward and spoke to Ronnie. ‘You hear that?’

  ‘Yeah,’ said Ronnie. He didn’t sound convinced.

  Harry could see Adnan weighing up his options.

  ‘When we make the exchange,’ he said, ‘before my brother hands Saima over, you’ll need to call the police – 999. I want them on their way, so we know you will not kill us.’

  ‘Absolutely not, no police. Let’s get one thing straight, when this is over, you go back to your cage with no idea of what happened to you. You were taken, you were tortured and then you were set free. You mention me or my wife and your mother ends up in the tunnel.’

  Harry grabbed at Adnan, gripping his face with one hand. ‘Are you starting to realize you fucked with the wrong man?’ He let go, leaving Adnan’s eyes blazing with fury.

  ‘Now, which warehouse is it?’ asked Harry, pointing i
n the distance at dozens of them at different stages of completion.

  ‘End one. Green shutter,’ said Adnan.

  ‘What’s inside?’

  ‘Shipping containers.’

  ‘Heading where?’ asked Harry.

  Adnan didn’t reply.

  ‘You were going to try and get them back to Pakistan? For what? An honour-based homecoming?’

  Harry grabbed Adnan by the throat, pulling him close.

  ‘You’re damn lucky I can’t kill you. Because if I could, I’d do it a thousand times over.’

  Enzo went round the back as Harry and Ronnie approached the side door to the warehouse. keeping in the shadows, ghosting past pallets of cement, breeze-blocks and timber all covered with a thick layer of snow. They’d left Adnan in the car, handcuffed, gagged and locked in the boot. Ronnie offered Harry a gun. He didn’t want one, but had his crowbar with him.

  Harry snapped the lock, there was a sharp crack of metal.

  The men kept in the shadows of the mammoth storage facility, exposed steel and towering girders. They headed towards a small office at the back, where a dull light was on.

  Harry heard Aaron crying and started to rush towards the sound. Ronnie’s grip on his arm pulled him back.

  ‘Not so fast,’ he hissed.

  They were halfway across the depot when Harry saw Aaron, lying on the cold, dirty floor crying.

  Ronnie held up a hand.

  They heard glass shattering.

  Enzo.

  Loud.

  Too loud.

  Aaron sat up, afraid.

  From inside the office, Harry saw a dark shadow stand and make for the door.

  In that moment, with only twenty yards between them, Aaron saw Harry.

  ‘Daddy!’ he yelled.

  ‘Shit,’ hissed Ronnie. ‘Go!’

  Harry was already running for his son.

  Harry reached Aaron just as Imran stepped outside, brandishing a knife. Seeing Harry scooping Aaron up in his arms, his eyes widened and he retreated quickly back inside the office.

  ‘Hey, little man,’ said Harry, hugging him tightly, tears spilling from his eyes.

  Imran re-emerged, pulling Saima by her hair. He had the knife at her throat.

  ‘Stay back!’ he yelled.

  Keeping hold of Aaron, Harry moved towards them. Saima had bruises on her face. Her eyes were red, there was dirt smeared across her cheeks and her wrists were bound with wire.