City of Sinners

by Dhand, A. A.

  ‘Five minutes. Ten at the most, mate. Come on. Like you said, after what he’s put me through this week? I just need to know, why me? Help me sleep a bit easier.’

  Kevin nodded slowly.

  ‘I’m trusting you, Harry, yeah?’

  ‘Relax, I’m not about to give the most high-profile prick we’ve ever caught a reason to file a claim against us.’

  Harry set off, then paused. ‘One thing – is Gurpal down there too?’

  Kevin shook his head. ‘We let him go, Harry.’

  In the gloom of the basement, Harry walked along the row of prison cells until he reached the last one. Adnan was sitting cross-legged on the floor, his back against the wall. He smiled when he saw Harry.

  ‘I’ve been waiting for you,’ he said.

  Harry unlocked the cell and charged at him, grabbing him by the scruff of the neck and yanking him to his feet.

  ‘Harry, you’re so predictable,’ Adnan laughed.

  ‘Where are they?’ hissed Harry. ‘I’ll fucking nail you to this wall.’

  ‘No. You can’t.’

  Harry let him go and threw the wedding invitation after him.

  ‘You’ve got the wrong girl. The wrong guy.’

  Adnan let the invitation fall to the ground.

  ‘Where are they?’ said Harry. ‘You think I won’t kill you?’

  ‘Not in here, you won’t. You’d never get away with it. Why do you think I handed myself in? I’m in the safest place in the world.’

  He smiled again.

  Harry wanted to rip his face off, anger boiling in every part of his body.

  ‘What the fuck are you?’ he said, taking a step back, looking for an angle, knowing he had none.

  ‘What do you want? Money? A way out of here?’

  ‘I want to ruin you.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘You took something from me.’

  Harry pointed to the invitation on the floor.

  ‘Explain it.’

  ‘The marriage was agreed the moment Saima was born, between our families. She is my second cousin. It is our way. As it has always been. You know that, Harry.’

  ‘Bullshit.’

  ‘We exchanged our vows over the phone when she was seventeen. But she never got on the plane to come to the ceremony.’

  Harry thought about the pictures he’d seen at Adnan’s house. The wedding venue. The empty thrones.

  He thought about the victims killed this week.

  The clues.

  ‘If she never got on the plane then the marriage never took place,’ spat Harry, entertaining the sick fantasy.

  Adnan smiled again. ‘You are so foolish. We said our vows, Harry. Our Nikah. I don’t care about the formalities, she made a commitment to me. She married me and then she left. She ruined my family. My father died. When I told you earlier that you had killed somebody, I was referring to him. The shame you and Saima caused. He could not take it. My mother fell ill. I came here to make things right but I found a world of sin. I realized you were the real problem. You took something which belonged to me.’

  ‘You depraved prick! I didn’t even know Saima when she was seventeen.’

  ‘As if I would believe anything you say.’

  ‘Where is she?’

  ‘You’ll never find her.’

  Harry grabbed him again, pinned him against the wall, desperate to inflict as much damage as he could on him.

  ‘Do it,’ said Adnan. ‘Kill me, ruin yourself. Because I’m not going to say any of this until I’m in court. Until I’ve got the media where I want them, and then I’m going to tell them the whole story and lay the blame at your feet. And people will talk about it for years. The warning will go out to girls that they cannot act this way. And every time people hear the name Harry Virdee, they will think of me and what I did and how it all started with you.’

  Harry let him go but Adnan wasn’t done.

  ‘We are just like the spider and the wasp. Here you are, paralysed from my sting with nowhere to go whilst the seeds of my actions start to consume your life. You lost, Harry.’

  Harry so badly wanted to smash his face in. He was way behind in the game.

  ‘Is she alive?’ he said.

  ‘That depends.’

  ‘On what?’

  ‘What I say when I make my phone call.’

  Harry left him, walking purposefully away, face burning with a heat he knew well.

  But he had one card yet to play.

  Upstairs, Harry returned the cell keys to Kevin.

  ‘Thanks,’ said Harry.

  ‘Shit, you okay? Look like hell.’

  ‘Just, you know, speaking with that psychopath. Proper piece of work. One more thing?’

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘You called a lawyer for him yet?’

  ‘Next on my list.’

  ‘Don’t, not yet. Let him think on the shit he’s done? Get used to that cell before the fucking suits arrive and give him rights he doesn’t deserve.’

  ‘Sure, Harry.’

  ‘And hold off on his phone call too. I want him to stew as long as we can. Can you do that?’

  ‘Sure,’ said Kevin. ‘After tonight, it’s the least I can do for you.’

  Harry exited Trafalgar House without attending the debrief.

  One chance to stop Adnan.

  One chance to save Saima.

  One chance to save his boy.

  EIGHTY

  MIDNIGHT CRISIS MEETINGS with Ronnie were something Harry had hoped were confined to the past; yet here he was right now, standing inside his cash-and-carry, with Enzo also present. Ronnie had a look of disbelief on his face as Harry told him everything.

  ‘I need your help, Ron, and I need it now,’ said Harry desperately. He turned towards Enzo, and swallowed his pride. ‘You too.’

  ‘How long ago were they taken?’ asked Ronnie. His expression had changed to one Harry was all too familiar with.

  The darkness.

  ‘Two hours ago,’ said Harry, his every word laced with urgency.

  ‘Enzo, you mind giving us a moment.’

  Harry saw the look of disapproval on Enzo’s face.

  ‘I’m not excluding you, friend,’ said Ronnie. ‘I just need a moment alone with my brother.’

  Enzo nodded and left, walking away into the gloom of the cash-and-carry.

  ‘There’s fucked up and then there is this,’ said Ronnie removing his phone and hurriedly typing a text message.

  ‘Will you help?’ said Harry.

  ‘Of course I fucking will,’ replied Ronnie. The landline rang and Ronnie answered it. He held a hand up to Harry.

  ‘No, I’m not kidding,’ said Ronnie, speaking authoritatively into the phone. ‘Couldn’t give a toss about the snow. Get everyone here, ready to work within thirty minutes.’

  He hung up.

  ‘You’ve got a plan?’ asked Ronnie.

  Harry nodded and told him.

  Ronnie shook his head, chewed his bottom lip. ‘That’s audacious, to say the least.’

  ‘I can pull it off. I know I can. My family is on the line.’

  ‘Our family,’ said Ronnie, coming across to Harry and putting his hand reassuringly on his shoulder. ‘Harry, I’m going to need something from you in return.’

  ‘Anything.’

  ‘A promise. That once this is over, you’ll owe me one favour; any favour I want. No questions asked.’

  ‘You’ve got it. Just help me get Saima and Aaron back.’

  ‘I will. First, give me your kasam.’

  Harry sighed. ‘At this moment in time, I’d chop off my right arm if you asked. You have it. I swear a kasam, on my life, that I will owe you.’

  Ronnie nodded outside, in Enzo’s direction. ‘Going to need his expertise. Which means you playing nice with him. Got it?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Right. Now let’s run through this one more time. Frame by frame. Because if we get this wrong, Harry, we’re all going to burn.’


  EIGHTY-ONE

  HARRY RETURNED TO Trafalgar House at half past midnight, heart pumping, adrenaline flooding his body. He hurried to the top floor where Conway was getting ready to leave. Only an hour before, the briefing room had been buzzing with officers wrapping up the kidnap case. Their resources had been stretched to maximum capacity but that was done now, there were less than a dozen officers present – just another night shift.

  In the kitchen, Harry hurriedly moved the toaster, grateful Conway hadn’t got around to having the faulty thing replaced. This time it wouldn’t be toast that burned. He balanced a large pack of kitchen-roll on top and pushed the whole thing under one of the wooden cabinets. He turned the toaster on, cranked up the power to full and left the room, wedging the fire door slightly ajar.

  Outside, he waited a few minutes, until it started to smoke, then hurried down the corridor to Conway’s office.

  She was packing up for the night and looked as tired as Harry felt, now entering his twentieth hour without sleep.

  ‘Christ, I wasn’t expecting to see you back here,’ said Conway.

  ‘Too wired to go home.’

  ‘How’s your father?’

  ‘Stable but serious. We’ll know if he’s going to make it by morning.’

  ‘Wow. I’m sorry, Harry. Some week it’s been, huh?’

  ‘Did I miss anything at the debrief?’

  ‘Nothing that can’t wait until the morning. Go home, Harry. Sleep for a couple of days.’

  ‘Is the chief okay with how it all went down?’

  ‘Are you kidding? You’re his new go-to guy. How did it feel out there in the middle of it all?’

  Harry shrugged. ‘Tough. Had some nerves.’

  ‘Some nerves? You held it together like it was just any other day. Look, Harry, about not backing you up when you made the call. I was—’

  ‘Already forgotten,’ said Harry, smiling and using every ounce of energy to make this all appear as normal as possible.

  ‘Thanks. Now, go on,’ she said, grabbing her coat and her briefcase. ‘We’re done here. All in all, a good night’s work.’

  The fire alarm hadn’t sounded yet and Harry didn’t want her to leave until smoke was filling the corridor.

  ‘Hang on,’ he said. ‘You … er, got anything to drink in here? I could use a hit of something to bring me back down to earth.’

  She smiled. ‘It’s sure been one of those—’

  The fire alarm sounded.

  ‘Oh Christ, what now?’ she said turning back to Harry. ‘Have a look, will you?’

  ‘Sure,’ he said and stepped out, closing the door behind him.

  Harry rushed down the corridor to see black fumes now wafting from the kitchen. He watched as several officers arrived in the hallway at the same time.

  ‘Shit!’ shouted Harry. ‘Everyone out! Now. Full evac!’

  They nodded and backed away towards the stairs.

  Harry ran towards Conway’s office and saw her rushing towards him.

  ‘Jesus! It’s real?’

  Harry nodded, ‘Bloody kitchen’s on fire. Did you replace that damn toaster?’

  ‘Shit,’ she said, looking horrified at her error. ‘Come on,’ she said, pulling him towards the stairs.

  They hurried downstairs until they hit ground level.

  The duty-officer, Kevin, was gathering officers to assist in clearing the cells so they could all exit into the backyard.

  Harry rushed over to Kevin. ‘How many prisoners?’

  ‘Eight,’ he said.

  ‘Let me help.’

  Conway came with Harry as they followed another six officers downstairs into the cells. ‘Give me cell eight’s keys,’ said Harry, taking them from Kevin. ‘Clare, you and me take Adnan? At least with two of us, the bastard won’t get any ideas.’

  She nodded, anxious.

  ‘Fire,’ said Harry, staring Adnan straight in the eye.

  For the first time, Adnan looked nervous.

  Unsure of himself.

  ‘Come on,’ said Harry.

  Adnan looked reassured when he saw Conway by Harry’s side.

  Harry cuffed Adnan’s hands and pushed him out of the cells.

  They moved quickly. Harry had his hand firmly on Adnan’s arm, digging his fingers in, letting him know he was there.

  Outside, the cold air sliced across their faces as they all hurried into the rear yard, a perfect picture of white, unbroken snow which continued to fall. Perimeter walls, fifteen feet high, were a serious warning against any thoughts of escape.

  The prisoners lined up.

  ‘On your fucking knees,’ said Harry.

  He kicked out at Adnan, who duly obeyed, glancing nervously around.

  Conway stood the other side of him.

  ‘Is this day ever going to end?’ she said to Harry.

  ‘Brigade will be here any minute. Get this shit sorted.’

  ‘Better do,’ she replied, shuddering, ‘it’s bloody freezing.’

  ‘Murder. Kidnap. Snow. Now a fire. Throw in thunder and lightning and we’ll have a real-life horror movie.’

  Harry glanced behind him at the rear wall.

  Movement.

  Ropes.

  He watched out the corner of his eye as two men came over the top. Both hidden behind balaclavas.

  Ronnie’s team.

  They hit the ground silently and came running towards the prisoners.

  A gunshot rang out.

  High in the air.

  Conway instinctively dropped to the floor.

  Harry turned to find the men only feet away.

  They were quick.

  ‘Down, down, down,’ one of the men shouted.

  Another shot.

  A scream.

  ‘Don’t make me ask again.’

  Everyone dropped to the ground.

  Except Harry.

  ‘You deaf?’

  ‘What do you want?’ he asked.

  ‘Just him. Nobody needs to die here. Just him.’

  He pointed at Adnan.

  ‘Not a fucking chance,’ said Harry.

  ‘Listen, pig, if you get in my way I’m gonna have to go right through you,’ one of the balaclavas yelled.

  Harry didn’t move.

  There was a flash of movement and one of the intruders suddenly lunged at Harry, slashing a blade at his arm.

  It cut hard.

  And deep.

  Harry yelled out in pain and fell to the ground.

  Blood splattered the snow.

  He rolled over, clenching his teeth as the pain detonated through his body. He watched the two men drag Adnan towards the rear wall. One kept his gun trained on the yard. Nobody else moved.

  A taser to the neck saw Adnan collapse to the floor. He was thrown over a broad shoulder, secured with a rope and hoisted over the wall. In under four minutes the whole operation was over. The team had disappeared, taking their ropes and their target with them.

  Harry tried to get to his feet, groaning at the gash in his arm.

  ‘Shit, Harry, are you okay?’ said Conway, rushing towards him.

  ‘Stabbed me,’ he whispered.

  ‘Stay where you are. Here,’ she said, removing her jacket, tearing the sleeve off and using it to wrap around his wound. She pulled it tight and Harry yelled again.

  ‘What the hell just happened?’ he asked her.

  Conway glanced at the rear wall in disbelief. ‘We just lost the most wanted man in England,’ she said.

  EIGHTY-TWO

  SAIMA VIRDEE HAD failed her son.

  She was tied to a chair, mouth taped, hands in her lap, bound with barbed wire. From an adjacent room, she could hear Aaron crying.

  Her little boy.

  Saima winced at the noise, sadness quickly turning to rage deep in the pit of her stomach.

  How long had he been crying?

  How long had she been here?

  She tried to struggle free of the barbed wire but it sliced at
her skin. If she could have freed herself by shredding every inch of her wrists, Saima would have done so, but it was tied too tight.

  Please stop crying, Aaron.

  Mummy needs to focus.

  She was in a warehouse of sorts.

  She could just make out large metal containers outside of the small, dank side room she was being kept in. Other than that, nothing that gave her any clue.

  Saima closed her eyes.

  This was all her fault. She should have seen this coming.

  But how?

  She’d certainly never meant for this to happen.

  Her marriage to Adnan had been arranged for as long as Saima could remember. She’d never really thought about it, it was just how things were done. But on the morning of the flight to Pakistan, she had unpacked the heavy red sari Adnan’s mother had sent her.

  Up until that point, the wedding had been something people spoke about, an idea. Yet now, holding the sari in her hands, Saima had started to feel rotten inside.

  She couldn’t explain it any other way.

  Rotten.

  She had unwrapped the sari and tried it on. Standing in front of the mirror, Saima saw nothing more than a child in adult clothing. She panicked.

  It was to be a joint wedding, her parents and her sister had flown out early to help with the preparations but Saima had had to stay to take her exams. She was going to college to become a nurse, she couldn’t miss her A levels.

  When the morning of the flight had arrived, she had spoken to Nadia.

  ‘Don’t worry, it will all be okay once we are married. Come, Saima. I need you to share this burden with me.’

  Burden.

  Is that what being married was about?

  Saima had not gone to the airport.

  She had remained at home, growing increasingly afraid of what her parents would do.

  Her parents had made a list of improbable excuses; missed planes, passport issues, everything. Nadia’s wedding had gone ahead. When the family returned, her parents clearly considered the matter simply postponed. Saima had exchanged her Islamic vows over the phone already, according to her parents she was married. It just wasn’t recognized by UK law yet.

  But the more Saima thought about it, the more she knew, she was not married, and moreover she didn’t want to be married in this way.

  She refused her parents’ request to sign the papers that would allow Adnan into the country as her husband.