Assuming Sylvia Shaw was between eighteen and twenty five when she got married, he searched the births for the period nineteen forty four to nineteen fifty one. He was in luck, there was only one, Sylvia Doris Shaw , born on fifth May nineteen forty six, father Roland Shaw, mother Doris. The address was a house in Newmarket.
As soon as Bob came in, Mick gave him this new information and said that he had to get off to the undertakers to arrange his father’s funeral.
He parked the car and went into the undertakers, or “Funeral Directors” as the sign over the front door proclaimed. It was a fairly new, modern building, the reception was carpeted, with several leather armchairs arranged around low tables. He was shown into an office to be greeted by a man in his fifties, quite portly with unkempt black curly hair.
“Good Morning Mr Joyce, my name is David Mitchell. Please sit down.”
Mick sat down at the large desk with the green leather top, Mr Mitchell sat opposite him and placed a large form on the desk.
Mr Mitchell asked if Mick had got the death certificate, which he handed over. “Right,” he began “your father had a prepaid plan with us but I need to go through your requirements for the actual funeral. Is it to be a burial or a cremation?”
Mick replied “Cremation.”
“Will there be a church service first or at the Crematorium?”
Mick replied that there wouldn’t be a church service, his father had never been religious.
“Well we can arrange for somebody to lead the funeral at the Crematorium, a non-religious service, if you wish. We use him quite often for exactly this situation.”
“That sounds fine,” said Mick
“His name is Donald Makepeace, I’ll give him your phone number and he will arrange to come to your house at a convenient time for you and discuss the form the service will take. He will need your choice of music and your father’s history, where he lived and worked, hobbies, friends, anecdotes about his life, that sort of thing.
The music should be no more than three pieces, each of no more than three or four minutes, most people put their choice onto a CD which Donald will play and arrange the funeral service around this.
The pre-paid funeral plan includes for our fees in receiving and preparing the deceased, the Crematorium fees, the hearse and one following car including drivers and coffin bearers. It also includes the coffin that your father chose, a very nice dark wood with brass fittings. Will you require additional following cars?”
“No,” replied Mick “there will only be my wife and I plus my brother.”
“Will you want us to provide refreshments in our Oak Leaf suite afterwards?”
“No, I don’t think so, as I said we are a very small family and I have no idea how many friends and neighbours will be there. I need to put something in the local paper telling people what time and where the funeral is.”
“We can do that for you Mr Joyce, in fact I will ring the crematorium now and book a slot.”
He rang a number and said “Good morning Margaret, David Mitchell here. Can you give me the next available slot for a cremation please?”
After about a minute, he tuned to Mick and said “Tuesday week, that’s the twentieth of the month, two thirty.”
Mick nodded and the booking was confirmed.
“I’ll put a notice in the paper nearer the time, do you want to say anything about flowers or donations?”
“Yes please, family flowers only and any donations to the St Martins Hospice.”
“Consider it done,“ said Mr Mitchell. “I assume that you will want your father to be in his best clothes when he is in the chapel of rest, if you could let us have them as soon as possible please. Do you want the funeral to go from your father’s flat or from your house?”
“Is it possible to go from here, my wife and I can drive here, as can by brother, and leave our cars here.”
“Absolutely Mr Joyce, that will be better for everybody I think.”
“I think that’s all we need for today, if you think of anything don’t hesitate to ring me Mr Joyce.”
They shook hands and Mick left.
*
The afternoon was uneventful, Mick rang Rachel when he got back to tell her the date of the funeral and said that he would submit a request form to have the day off, she told him not to be silly, and of course he could have the day off.
That night Mick told Sue about the funeral arrangements, she said they might as well start clearing the flat, there was no point waiting until afterwards, especially if they had to go and find his best suit. Mick rang Peter to tell him the date and time of the funeral and the name and address of the funeral directors, where they would be going to the crematorium from. He also said they were going to start clearing the flat and that Peter should meet them there and take anything he wanted. They arranged to meet there on Friday evening, about six.
Mick asked Sue “if she would come and could she ask her friend Helen if the two of them could go there on Saturday to sort out all of the things that could go to the charity shop. I’ll pick up Ronnie on the way to the match an hour earlier than usual and we can help carrying things out to the car.”
“Sounds like a plan,” said Sue.
He rang Ronnie who said he’d be only too happy to help.
On Thursday morning Mick asked Andrew if he had heard from the South African police, he said he might give them a ring later and see if there had been any developments.
“Are you making any progress with all of his bank accounts?”
“Quite a bit actually, I think Emma and I should start another white board just for the financial stuff, it’s a bit of a maze but I guess that’s what was intended.
Captain Austen has three bank accounts in his own name one in the UK, one in Germany and one in Holland, one Building Society and a Post office savings account also in his own name in the UK.
There are accounts in the names of various companies of which Phillip Austen is named as a director, two in the UK and four in Germany. The pattern seems to be that money is paid into the company bank accounts either by cash or, more often, by money transfer using a variety of different agencies, Western Union, the Post Office, HSBC etc. The payments appear to be from customers for work carried out by these companies, there are invoices, obviously fraudulent, to support this. The payments out appear to be to suppliers and wages to workmen, much of this in cash.
The cash payments eventually end up in his personal bank accounts either in Germany or Holland and then are passed on to his accounts in the UK. If the authorities had access to all of the records they would deduce very quickly that there was suspicious activity taking place, Phillip Austen was relying on the fact that his ‘paper chase’ was very complicated and involved eleven different bank accounts in different countries together with the fact that there were no individual transactions over the amount which the banks had to report. There was never an instance of an amount in and the same amount out.
I am currently making a list of all of the fake companies, the names of individuals who have either paid these companies for work allegedly carried out or workmen and suppliers who have been paid. I think there is a fair chance that the people paying in are the buyers of the diamonds and the payments out are either payments to the couriers and other accomplices or Phillip and Simon Austen’s cut.
The waters are further muddied as Captain Austen’s Army Pay is paid into his account in Portsmouth and then transferred to his bank in Germany, where he pays for his day to day living expenses, rent on his flat etc. so there are some genuine “non-fraudulent transactions.”
Mick asked Bob how he was getting on finding Karen Hennessey’s mother.
“I’ve gone through all the records I can think of, I’m beginning to come to the conclusion that Sylvia Hennessey, nee Shaw, is deceased.”
Andrews’s phone rang and he answered it immediately.
“Andrew Jordan speaking.” It was Colonel Swanepoel from Bloemfontein.
�
��Good afternoon Lieutenant, about two hours ago we raided Simon Austen’s house, collected a large amount of paperwork to be examined as evidence and arrested him on conspiracy to defraud charges. We were accompanied by officials from the South African Revenue Service who will be involved in the prosecution process.
An hour later, based on what Simon Austen told us, we raided the offices of an independent family owned diamond mine to the north west of Bloemfontein where in addition to seizing evidence, we arrested the three family members who own the mine and charged them with the same offence of conspiracy to defraud.
It will take a few days to check through the evidence but as soon as I am satisfied with what we have, I will send you a full report with copies of anything relating to Simon Austen’s dealing with his brother Phillip or anybody else outside South Africa. Incidentally, he wasn’t aware that his brother was dead. He told us that he posted another cardboard tube with diamonds in to his flat in Bielefeld last week.
The South African Revenue Service have requested that all the diamonds you have recovered should be sent to them, this can be done via the Embassy in London.”
Andrew thanked him profusely and relayed the information to the rest of the team in the incident room. “I’ll get onto Captain Wright and ask him to contact the neighbour, she may have taken in the cardboard tube, either her or the letting agents”.
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
Mick and Bob spent most of Friday going through Phillip Austen’s laptop files, particularly looking at his bank and credit card statements.
“This is interesting Bob, he went to a hotel in Cologne about once a fortnight, always on a Friday and stayed until Sunday.”
“Sounds like lady friend to me boss.”
Mick stood up and turned to the large map of Europe that they had put up on the wall.
“Cologne is about one hundred and twenty miles southwest of Bielefeld and one hundred and fifty miles north of Ramstein Air base, it has to be a halfway meeting point for Karen Hennessey and Phillip Austen. “
“Do we know the name of the Hotel?” asked Bob.
“Yes, it’s the Hotel Zwolf Schornsteine. According to its website, it’s a picturesque hotel on the banks of the Rhine.”
“Is it the same hotel every time?”
“Yes, I can find at least eleven entries between February and the end of July. If it’s a family run hotel rather than a major chain there’s a chance that the owners might remember an English speaking couple who stayed there regularly.”
“Andrew,” Mick called out, “do you think you could ring this hotel and ask if they could check their books for these dates, we’re looking for confirmation that it was Phillip Austen that stayed there and did anybody else stay with him. You could e-mail their photos to the hotel.
See if they keep records of car registrations, that sort of thing. If he was with a woman, did she sign for anything, or pay by card. Also did they arrive together or separately? It’s a family run hotel apparently rather than one of the big chains so your fluency in German will be useful. I don’t see any harm in you telling them that both you and Phillip Austen are in The Royal Military Police. If you have any problems, perhaps your contacts in the German Police could help.”
Andrew made the phone call and managed to speak to the owner. He said he vaguely remembered somebody fitting the description and he would have to go to his office upstairs to check the records going back to February. Andrew said he would e-mail the list of dates together with the photos of Phillip Austen and Karen Hennessey, the owner promised to ring back.
“I meant to ask you Andrew, how’s your hotel?”
“Fine thank you Michael, comfortable room, good food and I’m making good use of the gym and pool.”
“Can’t be much of a social life though, do you have friends and family in the UK?”
“A few friends although they’re scattered from Portsmouth to North Yorkshire. My mother died a few years ago but my father lives in St Johns Wood. I might go and see him soon.”
At five o’clock Andrew said “if you don’t mind Michael, Emma and I would like to leave a bit early tonight, I’m taking Emma to see Les Miserables in the West End as a thank you for running me around.“
“No problem, enjoy yourselves.”
After they had left Bob said “What do you make of that then?”
“Nothing in particular Bob, they’re both unattached, he’s only here for a few weeks and then he goes back to Germany, perhaps it is just his way of saying thank you as he said.”
*
Mick left work and drove to his father’s flat, his brother Peter was sitting outside in his Transit Van. Mick opened the flat door and they both went in.
“Take anything you want Peter, the rest will go to the charity shops. Are you with anybody at the moment, you didn’t say.”
“I’ve got a girlfriend if that’s what you mean, she stays over sometimes but doesn’t live with me.”
“Will she be coming to the funeral with you? “
“I shouldn’t think so,” said Peter.
“Does that telly work Mick?”
“I don’t know, switch it on and try it.”
Peter switched on the T.V, it worked fine.
“I’ll have this if that’s OK.”
“Sure, “said Mick. “In fact I have a feeling that the charity shop won’t take electrical goods so if you want to take his CD player, DVD player and radio you’d be doing me a favour.”
“Ok. I will,” said Peter.
They went through the rest of the small flat, in the kitchen Mick said “Can you take the micro-wave as well?”
They carried everything out to his van and Mick said he would see him at two thirty on the twentieth at the Funeral Directors.
Just as Peter was driving off Sue pulled up,
“Was that Peter?” she asked.
Mick said that it was and that he had taken the TV and some other electrical things.
“That’s good actually, Helen says the charity shop wouldn’t take them anyway.”
As they made their way back to the flat, the neighbour, Mrs Farrow appeared.
“Good evening Michael, I just wondered if you knew when the funeral will be only a few of us would like to go if that’s all right.”
Mick told her what the arrangements were and that it would be in the paper about a few days before.
“I see you’ve started to clear his flat” she said, “I saw you and another man carrying stuff out to the Van. “
“Yes, that was Peter, my brother.”
“If you don’t mind me asking, what’s happening to the rest of his stuff?”
“Charity shop” replied Mick.
“Has he still got that mirror in the living room, the one with the flowers painted on the glass in one corner?”
“Yes I think so, would you like it Mrs Farrow?”
“Yes please. If you don’t mind Michael, that’s very kind of you.”
Mick and Sue went into the flat and Mick brought out the mirror.
They went through his wardrobe, found his one and only suit, chose a shirt and tie, a pair of socks and his best black shoes. “Do you suppose they’ll want a pair of underpants as well?” said Mick.
“I’d put them in just in case” said Sue smiling, “I certainly wouldn’t want to meet my maker without my knickers on.”
“What do you think about the rest of his clothes, will the charity shop take them?”
“I don’t know, Helen will take a look tomorrow.”
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
Andrew and Emma drove to the hotel where they got changed and then went to Hatfield train station where they parked the car and went into the ticket office. Within minutes a train bound for Kings Cross pulled in and less than thirty minutes later they were in London. They went down to the tube and were soon at Leicester Square, the heart of theatre-land. They had about an hour to get something to eat and Emma said she knew an Italian Restaurant in one of the side streets, off t
he main thoroughfare, somewhere the tourists tended to miss.
They were in luck, there were just two tables free and they took the one near the window, the service was very quick, like most restaurants in the area they were geared up for theatre goers and knew pretty well when the busy periods would be.
“How’s your Rissotto Pescatore?” said Emma.
“Fine,” replied Andrew “How’s your Fettuccini Bolognese?”
“Good,” she said.
They finished their meals and sat chatting for a quarter of an hour over coffee.
“Time to go I think,” said Andrew “I’ve got to pick the tickets up from the box office.”
They walked to the theatre, collected the tickets without any problems and went straight up to their seats.
“Great seats,” said Emma.
“Yes, not bad are they,“ replied Andrew.
The lights dimmed, the music started and they were soon immersed in the sights and sounds of nineteenth century Paris. There were no big stars in the cast but Emma said she thought that Marius was played by somebody from a nineties boy band. The singing was moving when it needed to be and the whole audience were laughing at the scene in the Inn, the exchanges between the larger than life Inn-keeper and his wife were superb.
At the end, when the cast were receiving the applause from the audience, Emma was one of the first to stand up, clapping enthusiastically and calling for more. The lights came up and people began to leave, putting coats on and checking that they hadn’t left anything as they shuffled along between the rows of seats.
*
Andrew and Emma walked out into the night air, slightly cooler than of late with a threat of rain.
“Do you fancy a drink before we go for the tube, might be a bit less crowded in half an hour or so,” said Andrew.
“Yes, why not,” said Emma, slipping her hand under Andrews arm.
They walked a few yards until they were clear of the throng of people milling around and Andrew said “what about this place, looks OK and not too crowded.”
The Paderborn Connection Page 12
