They walked in and Andrew ordered their drinks from the bar, they found a table at the back of the room and sat down.
“Did you enjoy the show?” he asked.
“Brilliant,” she replied, “thanks for inviting me out.”
“My pleasure,” replied Andrew smiling.
“I like your jacket, I’ve not seen you in it before,” she said.
“Brown suede with blue denim collar and matching side pocket flaps isn’t really suitable for work,” he replied, laughing.
“True,” she agreed “but it’s a side of you I’ve not seen before.”
They finished their drinks and Andrew said to excuse him for a minute, he needed the gents. Emma remained seated at the table and took her mobile out to check for any messages or missed calls.
“On your own darling?” said a voice from behind her. She looked around to see a youngish man, late teens or early twenties perhaps, wearing faded jeans and a bright blue polo shirt.
“Just waiting for somebody,“ she said, staring him straight in the face.
“Well we could keep you company,” said another youth, dressed similarly to the first one but his shirt was light grey.
“We could all go to a club I know,” added the third of the group wearing black jeans and a black polo shirt.
Emma continued to look at her mobile trying to ignore them but the first one spoke again.
“Not very friendly are you, think we’re not good enough for you do you?”
Just then Andrew came out of the gents and Emma stood up, “nice talking to you lads but I’ve got to go now.”
Andrew sensed the atmosphere and took her by the arm. “Everything OK?” he asked.
“Fine,” she said.
“Night then darling,” said grey polo shirt
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” said black polo shirt.
“Stuck up bitch,” said blue polo shirt to the other two, loud enough for several people sitting nearby to hear.
“I think that’s enough don’t you,” said Andrew “come on Emma time to go.”
He took her by the arm and guided her to the door, being careful to keep the three youths in sight, by watching their reflection in the glass panel of the door.
They got outside and Andrew said, “turn right and walk quickly, better if we are on a busy well lit road I think. Were they bothering you?”
“Just showing off Andrew, I don’t think they would have started anything in the pub.”
“I’m not so sure Emma, they followed us out and are only a few yards behind us.”
“Oi fuck face, you in the jacket, I wanna word with you!”
Andrew told Emma to stand behind one of the large rubbish bins, out of the way. He turned to face the three youths and said “Don’t even think about it, you don’t know who you’re taking on.”
All three of them laughed and blue polo shirt said, “Think you’re a hard man then do you, with your fancy fucking jacket!”
Andrew stood very still watching the three youths intently, his years of training and experience in some of roughest bars in Northern Europe coming into play. He knew whether each of them was right or left handed by which wrist they had their watch on, which ones had clothing that could conceal a weapon, and by their facial expressions and body language, which of them was prepared to take him on or were ultimately just spectators, waiting to see how any forthcoming fight would develop.
“I’m not going to tell you again son, back off!”
The youth in the blue shirt took a pace forward, his face contorted with rage. Andrew imperceptibly made a quarter turn to his left whilst still looking directly at his assailant, at the same time he shifted his weight onto his left foot. The youth suddenly brought his right hand out from behind his back and Andrew saw the knife glinting in the light from a shop window. At the very split second that the knife was thrust forward towards him, Andrew made another quarter turn so that he was side on to his attacker and leant back, just enough for the blade to pass in front of his chest.
When the arm was fully extended Andrew grabbed the wrist and twisted it so that the palm of the hand was facing down and then forced the hand up and back against the arm. The youth screamed in agony and dropped the knife which fell near to Emma and she immediately kicked it under the rubbish bin, out of sight. Whilst Andrew forced the youth to his knees. Emma dialled 999 and asked for police attendance as soon as possible as there had been an assault with a knife and the assailant was being detained.
The other two youths looked hesitant, not knowing whether or not to rush in or to run off. Emma had already taken out her warrant card which she simply waived in the air in their general direction and shouted “Police! Stay where you are!”
Within two minutes a Sergeant and two Constables came around the corner and Emma shouted “Over here!”
She showed her warrant card and very quickly and succinctly told them what had happened and that the man holding down the assailant was the victim of the attack and the youth in the blue shirt was the attacker.
The Sergeant and one of the Constables restrained the youth and Andrew stood up saying to the Sergeant, “watch his right wrist, I may have broken it.”
*
A police van came around the corner and was directed to the side of the road by the Sergeant who, together with the Constable, put the youth in the secure area in the back of van. Turning to Andrew he took out his notebook and said “right let’s get some details down shall we, name and address?”
“65281623 Lieutenant Andrew Jordan 1st Regiment RMP BFPO22, currently assigned to the Hertfordshire Police based at Hatfield.” said Andrew, showing his identification.
“Redcap eh? Is that where you learned unarmed combat?”
“Yes although I teach it now to new recruits to the Military Police and I don’t actually call it ‘unarmed combat’, I refer to as disarm and restrain in this sort of situation”.
Turning to Emma he said “and what about you Constable?”
“Detective Constable Emma Stavely, of the Hertfordshire Police based at Hatfield”. She again showed her warrant card.
“Works outing is it,” said the Constable, laughing at his own joke.
Emma pointed out the other two youths who, somewhat to her surprise were still standing there and said they were with the assailant in the pub where the incident started but hadn’t taken part in the attack.
“Which pub were you in?”
“The Blue Boy, over there,” said Emma.
Emma asked the Sergeant if he had an evidence bag as the knife was under that rubbish bin. The Constable produced a bag and knelt down to carefully retrieve the knife, being careful not to put his own finger prints on it.
The Sergeant said that he and the two Constables would take a few statements from some of the people who had seen the assault, also they would ask in the pub if anybody had witnessed anything. He said that Andrew and Emma could type up their statements back in Hatfield and forward them to West End Central. He then told the driver to get the youth in to the station to get him booked in and get his wrist checked out. The Constable handed over the knife in the evidence bag to the van driver.
“Could I ask your name Sergeant, I’ll have to tell my Inspector about this.” said Emma.
“The names Ray Moore, who is your Inspector?”
“D.I. Michael Joyce” she replied.
“Is Chief Superintendent Appleton still at Hertfordshire?”
“George Appleton?”
“The very same “said the Sergeant.
“Yes, except that he’s Deputy Chief Constable now.”
The Sergeant smiled and said “always was an ambitious bugger. O.K. I think you two can go now, have a safe journey home.”
CHAPTER TWENTY THREE
On Saturday morning Sue’s friend Helen arrived in her husband’s estate car and the two of them set off for Bernard Joyce’s flat. Sue opened the door and they went in.
“How do you want to do this
Helen?”
“Clothes first I think”. Sue had brought several large black sacks and they started to go through his things.
“If we just put everything on the bed, I’ll put the things the shop will take in one sack and the rest can go in another sack which we’ll take to the recycling textiles bin. We’ll start a third sack for things that can’t be recycled.”
*
In next to no time they had sorted and packed all of the contents of the wardrobe and chest of drawers. Sue went out to the car and fetched the cardboard boxes she had got from the supermarket the afternoon before. Helen took one of the strongest into the kitchen and they packed the crockery and glasses, some of the saucepans and most of cutlery. Helen put the rest of the kitchen cupboard contents including the plastic containers, some chipped egg-cups and a corkscrew without a handle straight into the rubbish sack.
They went through the rest of the flat sorting out ornaments, framed pictures and the like, putting them into either the rubbish or the charity shop sacks. Finally they put the towels, sheets and pillow cases into the textile recycling bag.
In less than an hour all that was left was the furniture, Helen said the shop would collect that, if she could have the key, there would be no need to be there to meet them.
They started to carry the sacks out to the car when Mick and Ronnie arrived.
“Morning Helen and good morning to you as well Sue, you’re looking gorgeous as always,” said Ronnie, Micks best friend for forty years.
“What in these old jeans and last year’s jumper, I don’t think so.”
Helen smiled at Sue who just rolled her eyes up to the sky.
Sue went into the flat whilst Helen supervised the loading into the car, making sure that she knew which sacks were for the shop and which were for the Household Waste Recycling Facility, or the tip as everybody called it.
Mick joined Sue and said “is everything all right” when he noticed a reddening of her eyes and a tear running down her cheek, which she quickly wiped away.
“Yes, I’m all right, it just seems so sad that somebody’s personal possessions can be packed up and disposed of so quickly like this.”
“I know sweetheart but it has to be done.”
They left the girls to finish off, apparently it was vitally important to clean the kitchen and bathroom floors and put bleach and disinfectant down the toilet and in the sinks and bath, before they left.
“Just need to pop round to the Undertakers with Dad’s suit on the way Ronnie.” They dropped off the clothes and soon got to Edmonton, parked in their usual spot and strolled to the pub.
They went through the time honoured rituals of shaking hands and greeting familiar faces. One face was not familiar however although he was standing next to and talking to a group that Mick knew.
“How’s it going Mick my old mate,” said one of the group, a man about the same age as Mick.
“Not bad, not bad at all Dean,” replied Mick, this was neither the time nor the place to tell the group that he had just lost his father.
“This is Divesh,” said Dean,” he’s over here visiting his brother, my next door neighbour, he wanted to see a premiership match and as our Gary is in Dublin for a stag do I said he could use his ticket.”
“Where’s home then Divesh?” said Ronnie, never one to beat about the bush.
“Mumbai” said the young Indian man.
“Is that in Pakistan?”
“No, India,” replied Divesh. “It used to be called Bombay.”
“So what line of business are you in?” asked Dean. The answer stopped Mick dead in his tracks.
“I’m a diamond cutter.”
“What you mean like a diamond geezer” said Ronnie, causing gales of laughter from the group.
“No,” said Divesh, sheepishly. “My uncle owns a jewellery manufacturing business and I work for him.”
“Didn’t know they made quality jewellery in India,” said Ronnie adding quickly, “No offence mate.”
“That’s alright,” said Divesh, actually Mumbai is one of the world’s major producers of quality jewellery as you describe it.”
The conversation moved on to talk about the match and the day’s opponents.
“Should be an easy three points,” said Dean. Mick nodded but his mind was elsewhere. He made a mental note to get on the internet on Monday morning, he wanted to know everything there was to know about jewellery manufacturers in Mumbai.
They walked to the ground and went into the West stand through a turnstile for season ticket holders. They took their seats and had the usual banter with the fans sitting nearby, most of whom they knew by name. They sang their songs and chanted their chants as the game ebbed and flowed. The match finished one nil to Spurs.
“Well at least it’s three points,” said Ronnie. They drove back, Mick dropped him off then carried on home where he pulled onto the drive, went indoors and into the lounge.
Sue was at the desk in the corner on the laptop,
“I’m just writing to the council telling them we’ve cleared the flat and won’t need to go in after Tuesday.”
“Why Tuesday,” asked Mick.
“Because Helen’s arranged for the furniture to be collected on Monday.”
“Did you take everything to the shop and the tip OK?”
“No problem, apart from having to queue for ages at the recycling bins. Incidentally you had a letter from the Gas and Electricity people today,” she said handing him the letter.
Mick opened it anticipating a problem but was pleasantly surprised.
“Everything sorted, they’ve even sent a cheque made out to me for one hundred and sixty four pounds thirty one pence.”
Sue entered the amount in a little book she had bought, underneath the entry reading ‘cash in biscuit tin Eighteen hundred and forty five pounds’
“You’re a star,” said Mick kissing her on the back of her neck.
They had a pleasant evening, a couple of Gin and Tonics, and a chicken casserole with a nice bottle of Chablis. Mick fell asleep in the armchair, Sue drew the curtains and sat reading a paperback for an hour. She looked across at Mick, stood up and walked over to his chair, kissed him on the forehead and said, “Come on, bed time.”
Sunday was a quiet day in the Joyce household, the weather was getting cooler than of late so they had a lie-in till eleven, then got up and dressed ready for a couple of hours in the garden. Mick mowed the lawns whilst Sue weeded the borders and dead-headed the flowers. At half past one they went in and showered. Sue said she didn’t fancy cooking, so they went for a carvery at a country pub.
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
On Monday morning, Mick got into work before eight, he was anxious to make a start researching the Mumbai diamond jewellery manufacturers. A few minutes later Bob, a Q.P.R. fan, walked in and exchanged some banter with Mick about the week-ends football. Andrew and Emma got in at the usual time just after eight thirty.
“Did you two have a good night on Friday?”
“Yes thanks Michael, very pleasant” replied Andrew. “We thoroughly enjoyed the show but there was a bit of an incident in the pub afterwards.” He recounted the events and said the Met might get in touch, a Sergeant Ray Moore was the arresting officer and we gave him your name Michael. He wants us to write up our statements and send them to him.”
Andrew and Emma sat at their desks, typed out their statements and sent them to Sergeant Moore.
Andrew’s phone rang, it was the hotel owner in Cologne ringing back. He confirmed that there were always two people staying in the room booked by Phillip Austen and eating breakfast together. Furthermore his wife confirmed that the two people in the photos were the same two people who stayed on the list of dates. She remembered one particular Saturday in April as it was their daughter’s birthday and they had a party that night which the ‘English couple’ joined them for. She remembered that Phillip Austen spoke very good German, the woman less so.
They always arrived
separately, he always entered the same car registration, a German registered white Volvo. She usually drove a red Audi TT but on one occasion in May she was driving a blue Ford Focus with a British number plate. The hotel owner gave Andrew the registration number who thanked him for his time and the trouble he had gone to. After some small talk Andrew said thank you again and hung up.
He gave Emma the blue Ford Focus number so that she could check who it was registered to. Just minutes later she announced, “the blue car is registered to Mrs Sylvia Morrison in St Albans”.
“Right Bob,” said Mick “I want everything you can find on Sylvia Morrison at the address we now have. I want confirmation that she is Karen Hennessey’s mother, does she still live there, does she live alone, has Karen Hennessey been there recently.”
Bob said he would go there immediately and scout around, make a few discreet enquiries at the local shops, it was important that they didn’t alert Karen Hennessy until they were sure of their facts and could arrest her, if indeed she was staying with her mother.
Mick told Andrew and Emma about the chance remark in the pub on Saturday about the diamond connection to Mumbai in India.
“I’m hopefully closing in on Karen Hennessey so I’ll leave you to do the research on Mumbai if you think it’s worth pursuing. I think I read that the two company accounts in the UK had addresses in Harrow and Birmingham. The one in Belgium was in Antwerp and the one in Germany is in Frankfurt. Both Harrow and Birmingham have large Indian populations. I seem to remember something about Antwerp also having a sizeable Indian community.”
“So does Frankfurt,” said Andrew.
“So is it possible that the diamonds first arrive in Germany and are then taken to one of these four cities for a final onward journey to Mumbai?” said Mick.
“It’s definitely worth pursuing,” said Andrew “I was never entirely happy with the idea of them being taken to the diamond houses in Europe, the security is far too tight.”
*
Mick rang Rachel asking for a meeting to update her. She told him to come up at two o’clock. He then rang West End Central and asked to speak to Sergeant Ray Moore. He was told that he wasn’t on duty at the moment but when Mick explained who he was and why he was ringing he was put through to an Inspector Kuzak.
The Paderborn Connection Page 13
