The Paderborn Connection

by William A. Newton

  “Sorry to bother you Inspector, it’s about the incident on Friday night outside the Blue Boy involving one of my D.C.s and a Lieutenant in the Military Police temporarily assigned to us. We’re in the middle of a murder enquiry at the moment and I just needed to check if you will need them to come in and make further statements.”

  “I don’t think so Inspector, we’ve just received their statements which seem fine, they tie up with what witnesses told my officers and it all seems pretty well clear cut. Incidentally, the youth we arrested is known to us and in fact is on bail for another violent assault a few weeks earlier.”

  “I guess the court case won’t be for some time will it” said Mick, more in hope than expectation.

  “Impossible to say but as soon as I know something definite I’ll let you know.”

  “Hang on Bob, I’m not seeing the boss till two. I’ll come with you.” They drove the short distance to St Albans, somewhere Mick knew well, “next right isn’t it Bob?”

  “Should be, then second left.”

  They found the address and drove past as slowly as they dared without attracting attention.

  “Pull in over there in front of those shops,“ said Bob.

  Mick parked the car and Bob went into the newsagents, bought some chocolate and looked in the window outside which was full of adverts. One was for a room to rent in a house two doors away from Sylvia Morrison’s. He made a note of the telephone number and returned to the car.

  “Have you found something Bob?”

  “Possibly, the house next door but one to our Mrs Morrison is advertising a room to rent.”

  “We need somebody to go and have a look, get chatting to the householder, I don’t think you or I look like we might be future tenants.”

  “What about Emma?”

  “Probably our best bet,” said Mick.

  They drove around for a while, then went to the St Albans police station.

  Mick walked in to the front office and a young Constable behind the desk asked if he could help him. Mick took out his warrant card, at the same time introducing himself

  “D.I. Michael Joyce, is Sergeant Ken Phillips around?”

  “Not today sir,” was the reply.

  “How about Don Grady or John Shilton?”

  “I think Sergeant Grady is here Sir” said the Constable reaching for the phone. “Hello Sergeant, front desk here. I have Detective Inspector Joyce here asking to see you.”

  Don Grady walked in a couple of minutes later,

  “Morning DI Joyce, to what do we owe the pleasure?”

  “I’m on a murder investigation at the moment and there is a possibility that our suspect is in St Albans.”

  “Come in here “said Sergeant Grady, leading him into an interview room.

  Mick took out the photos from his folder and put them on the desk. The man, the murder victim, is Phillip Austen, or to be exact Captain Phillip Austen of the Royal Military Police based in Paderborn, Germany. The woman is the suspect, she is Major Karen Hennessey of the Medical Corps, United States Army based in Ramstein, Germany. Major Hennessey was actually born in England and her mother, Mrs Sylvia Morrison, lives here in St Albans.

  In the days before committing the murder in Stevenage, Karen Hennessey took leave from her post in Ramstein but has not returned nearly three weeks later. We have reason to believe that she may possibly be in hiding at her mother’s at this address” said Mick handing over the address.

  “I need to establish if in fact she is there before making a move to arrest her. She is in the Military, albeit in the medical corps, but has killed once, I don’t want a major incident where innocent people might be injured. I don’t have to tell you Don that secrecy is paramount, if it gets out that the police are watching the house, she might well get wind of it and we’ll never find her.”

  “I understand perfectly Michael, what do you want me to do?”

  “I’ve got a plain clothes officer who’s going to go and look at a room to let two doors down, I’m also going to send one or two other plain clothes officers to casually drive by or walk past the house to try and establish if there is more than one person living there. If you could ask your lads to keep a lookout for Major Hennessey and let me or DS Bob North know at Hatfield if you see her.”

  *

  They drove back and Mick gave the details of the room to let to Emma,

  “Give them a ring will you and make an appointment to see the room, try and get in there before four o’clock when other family members might be around. If you can get the lady of the house on her own and get her chatting, you might just pick something useful up.”

  At two o’clock Mick and Andrew went to see Rachel. They ran through everything that had happened and what they had learnt since their last meeting but just as Mick was about to tell her about his visit to St Albans that morning, her phone rang. It was the front desk, she picked it up and said brusquely, “I’m in a meeting at the moment, can whatever it is wait for half an hour?”

  “Sorry ma’am but I think this must be important, there is a gentleman from the South African Embassy here with a package for Inspector Joyce which he needs him to sign for.”

  “Very well, bring him up to my office will you.”

  She turned to Mick and said

  “You have an important visitor, somebody from the South African embassy with a package that he wants you to sign for”.

  There was a knock on the door and she called out “come in.”

  Sergeant Milken entered first followed by a very distinguished looking man, pin-striped suit and old school tie. Steve Milken introduced him to Mick Joyce and then beat a hasty retreat.

  Mick shook hands with the man and then introduced him to Rachel and Andrew.

  “Good afternoon” he began “my name is Johann Brummer from the South African Embassy in London. This morning we received two packages, which I am told contain identical information, through diplomatic channels from Bloemfontein.

  One was addressed to Brigadier Fredericks of the Royal Military Police, which a colleague of mine is delivering right now, and this one is for you Inspector Joyce. If you would be so kind as to sign here please,” he said handing Mick a form. Mick quickly read through it and showed it to Rachel. She said for Mick to sign it. The South African, who spoke with a definite accent but not so strong that they couldn’t understand him, said, “thank you very much, I won’t disturb you any longer.”

  Rachel escorted the man down to the front desk personally.

  Andrew said “It must be the report from the Bloemfontein police.”

  They waited for Rachel to return before opening it.

  “I thought you were dealing with the South African Police Andrew?”

  “I am Ma’am but when Colonel Swanepoel said he would send me a full report of the raids on the suspects I asked him to mark it for the attention of Inspector Joyce in case there was an officer who didn’t know me on duty when it arrived.”

  “You certainly think ahead don’t you Andrew.”

  “Yes Ma’am, I try to.”

  “Anyway Inspector, you were telling me about your visit to St Albans.”

  “Yes Ma’am, we’ve traced Karen Hennessey’s mother to an address and there’s a possibility that she might be hiding out there, we know that in the past she has borrowed her mother’s car and driven it to Germany in fact.

  I called into the St Albans station and had a word with Sergeant Don Grady asking him to keep an eye on the address and let me know if there is a sighting of Karen Hennessey.

  “Sounds as if you’re making very good progress, what’s your next move Lieutenant?”

  “Well I will go through the information we have just received from South Africa, they seized a lot of documents so there may be a lead to the couriers that Captain Austen was using, including Karen Hennessey of course, which I will immediately pass to Inspector Joyce.”

  “And you Inspector?”

  “All our efforts are now concentra
ted on finding Karen Hennessey Ma’am.”

  “I assume you’ve exhausted all the possibilities on the National Police Database?”

  “Absolutely, Ma’am, the problem is that Karen Hennessey has not lived or worked in Britain for thirty years.”

  Turning to Andrew she said “I hear you and D. C. Stavely had some excitement on Friday evening.”

  “Just a little ma’am, some youths out looking for trouble. I tried warning them off but their ringleader wouldn’t take the hint and when he came at me with a knife I had to disarm him and put him down on the ground. D.C. Stavely and I have given statements to a Sergeant from the Met.”

  *

  That evening just as Mick was finishing his evening meal, the phone rang. “Michael Joyce speaking.”

  “Good evening Mr Joyce, Donald Makepeace here, I believe you were expecting my call.”

  Mick thought for a second, he couldn’t place the name and then it came to him “Yes Mr Makepeace, it’s about my father’s funeral isn’t it?”

  “That’s right, when would it be convenient to come and see you?”

  “Tomorrow or Wednesday evening would be fine.”

  “Can we say Wednesday evening about seven thirty?”

  “Yes, that’s fine Mr Makepeace.”

  Mick told Sue and asked if she would be around, he’d like her help in making any decisions about readings, music and so on.

  “No problem,” she said.

  Mick went to his collection of C.D.s looking for suitable classical music. He chose several pieces and listened to the first couple of minutes of each. He was looking for something that had an air of solemnity without being too depressing and lasting for no more than four minutes.

  He made his first choice, Adaggio in G Minor by Albinoni. It lasted nearer to five minutes but it could be faded down towards the end, he would have to discuss that with Donald Makepeace.

  For the second choice he wanted something very personal to his father, something by Perry Como that his father used to sing along to. It was called something like ‘I love you so’.

  “Sue, is that second hand record shop still in business, a few doors down from your office?”

  “Yes, one of the girls in the office is always buying things from there,”

  “Do they sell C.D.s?”

  “Yes, I’m sure they do, a few days ago she bought a boxed set of Johnny Mathis C.D.s for her father’s birthday.”

  “Would you ask her to see if they have a Perry Como song called something like I love you so?”

  “Consider it done.”

  His third choice was one of his own personal favourites, Intermezzo from Cavalleria Rusticana by Mascagni.

  He thought about what to tell Donald Makepeace about his father’s life. He had his and his mother’s birth certificates together with their marriage certificate. His father was born in Enfield in nineteen twenty four, his mother in nineteen twenty nine. They were married in nineteen fifty two. He had seen active service in Belgium, Holland and Germany with the Super Heavy Regiment of the Royal Artillery.

  CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

  On Tuesday morning Mick was in early, he rang the front desk and enquired whether or not there had been any messages overnight from St Albans. There hadn’t been.

  When Emma came in he immediately asked her about her visit to the house with the room to let. She said that she had been shown the room, a double room at the back of the house overlooking the back gardens. She feigned interest in the view commenting that the immediate neighbour’s gardens were nice, as was the garden of the house she was standing in, but the house next door but one was a bit overgrown.

  “That’s Mrs Morrison’s,” the woman had said “She’s not so active these days but does her best.”

  “Doesn’t she have any family to help her?” said Emma.

  “I think she has a daughter but she doesn’t live locally. She visits occasionally but the last time I saw her was about three or four weeks ago.”

  Emma carried on the pretence of inspecting the room, asked about the kitchen and bathroom, who else lived in the house and how much was she asking for the rent. She said that she had one other place to see but had promised to ring and let the woman know if she wanted the room or not.

  “Ah well,” said Mick “thanks anyway Emma, at least we know that she’s not there now.”

  However he decided against informing St Albans police for a couple of weeks in case she returned.

  “Andrew, could you speak to Larry Gardner at Ramstein, can he give us any information from Major Hennessey’s file that might give us a clue to where she might be in England? Also have they searched her room and did they find anything there, bank accounts, insurance policies, telephone bills, letters from friends, in fact anything with a UK address or anything at all that might link her to Captain Austen. How are you progressing with the stuff from the South African Police?”

  “Well I’ve only just glanced through it so far, I’ll ring Larry Gardner, and then I’ll go through it line by line.”

  Emma said she would ring the owner of the house near to Sylvia Morrison and tell her that she wouldn’t be wanting the room as she had found one near to where she worked, but thanked her and said that she hoped that they would find someone to rent it soon.

  Andrew rang Larry Gardner who said that due to the length of time that had elapsed since Major Hennessey had gone absent without leave, together with the fact that she was wanted by the British Police, he would get permission from her commanding Officer to search her room. He promised to ring Andrew as soon as he had done that and would send copies of any documents.

  “Can you also ask her friends and anybody she worked with if they had heard from her or had any idea where she might be in England?”

  Emma was busy adding something to the whiteboard.

  “New information?” asked Mick.

  “It’s from the files from Captain Austen’s flat,” said Emma.

  “We found last night that some of the initials and dates we found in Phillip Austen’s little loose leaf folder also cropped up in another book he kept listing all of his transactions but with names instead of initials.”

  “Last night?” said Mick, “working late were you?”

  “I invited Emma to dinner at the hotel,” said Andrew. “I had taken the files home as I thought I was onto something in the afternoon. Emma came up to my room and we read out various lists to each other, ticking off matching names and initials.”

  “I hope you don’t mind boss,” said Emma looking acutely embarrassed.”

  “Why should I mind Emma?”

  “About me and Andrew.”

  “Emma, you’re both unattached and what you do in your own time is absolutely nothing to do with me.”

  “I told her that’s what you’d say,” said Andrew.

  “Actually Andrew my wife Sue is dying to meet you and has asked me to invite you for dinner at our house on Saturday night. I guess I should re-phrase that and say you and Emma.”

  Andrew and Emma looked at each other, Andrew nodded to her and said “that would be nice Michael, thank you very much.”

  *

  Mick spent the last hour of the day reading through files, getting more and more frustrated that he couldn’t find anything to give him a clue as to where Karen Hennessey might be.

  “Andrew, I don’t suppose you’ve heard from Larry Gardner?”

  “No not yet, but he did say he would have to get her commanding officers permission to search her rooms.”

  “Bob, have you found anything?”

  “Not so far boss.”

  Andrew walked over to Mick’s desk to show him a list of dates and names.

  “These five names, one of which is Karen Hennessey, appear at least four times in the last four months. I recognise one of the names, he’s with one of the regiments based in Sennelager. I’m going to ring Captain Wright and ask him to check the other names.”

  Mick left them to it and drove home, he
wanted to get everything ready for Donald Makepeace’s visit the next evening and he got home just after six, before he had even taken his coat off Sue said that she had got a C.D. of Perry Como’s greatest hits which included a song called ‘And I love you so’.

  Mick put it in the CD player and said “brilliant, that’s the one you clever girl.”

  “How’s Andrew?” she asked “It can’t be much fun living in a hotel, has he got any friends or family who live locally?”

  “His father lives in St John’s Wood, he hasn’t mentioned any friends although Bob North reckons he and Emma are ‘an item’.”

  “Is that a problem?” asked Sue.

  “Not for me it isn’t, they’re both unattached and if they want to socialise out of work, it’s nobody’s business but theirs.”

  “Bye the way Andrew has accepted your kind invitation to dinner on Saturday evening, I’ve also invited Emma as Andrew has no transport of his own, hope that’s o.k. with you.”

  “Of course it is Mick.”

  Sue also told him that there were two letters for him, both from the Council, the first about the rent for the flat, saying that there was about thirty pounds due but that it was the Councils policy to waive sums of less than fifty pounds in the event of bereavement. The other one was a final bill for council tax, which actually showed that his father was in credit and that they would send a cheque for forty six pounds ten pence within fourteen days. Sue entered the amounts in the book and they sat down to dinner.

  After dinner Mick copied the three pieces of music he had chosen for the funeral onto a blank C.D. He wrote out what he knew about his father, date of birth, date his parents got married, his army service or at least as much as he knew about it, where he worked and lived all his life.

  CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

  Wednesday was the breakthrough day for both Mick looking for Karen Hennessey and for Andrew looking for British servicemen involved in the smuggling. At nine thirty Larry Gardner rang Andrew and said he had searched Major Hennessey’s quarters and had found information that might help the British Police. Andrew said he was standing next to Inspector Michael Joyce who was in charge of the case and it would be better if he spoke to him direct.