The Paderborn Connection (9 page)

“The basic price of diamonds depends on three things, colour, cut and clarity, These are white diamonds, uncut, the price would increase considerably when they were cut but there would be a reduction in the weight, that is all down to the initial shape of the uncut diamond and the skill of the cutter. These are a mixed lot and the colour will vary from stone to stone as will the clarity. Some of these are quite dirty. “

“That might be because they were glued to the inside of a cardboard tube” said Mick.

“These are worth somewhere between twenty to thirty thousand pounds in their present state. They are probably from South Africa which imposes a tax on uncut diamonds together with a Diamond Export levy on the taxable income of all diamond mining companies, you'll have to speak to a specialist on the amount that would add.”

“So if somebody was getting these diamonds out of South Africa without notifying the authorities they would be a lot cheaper than buying them through the proper channels?” said Mick.

“I suppose that's one way of looking at it, totally illegal of course. Another possibility is that the diamonds were stolen from the mine and couldn't be exported without the correct paperwork”.

“Either way it's criminal activity,” said Mick.

“Absolutely,“ replied Paul Cavendish.

“Well thank you that has been a great help. How's business, you didn't suffer too much after your robbery I hope? “

“Not too bad although the insurance premiums went through the roof of course and we spent quite a bit on better security.”

Mick walked back to where he had parked and passed a small sandwich shop, he went in and bought a couple of ham rolls and a cake as he wouldn't be eating again until eight at least. He sat in his car and ate his lunch thinking about what he had just been told. He decided against ringing Andrew Jordan and telling him where Phillip Austen's money was coming from until after his three o'clock meeting.

He got back to the station just after two and asked how they were getting on with the printing,

“About halfway through it would be my best guess,” said Emma, “I've loaded all of the discs and there are some pretty big files, particularly from his laptop. I've been compiling the contents list as you wanted as I'm going along. Lieutenant Jordan's notes are a great help though, he seems very thorough.”

“Yes that was my impression replied Mick.”

“Can you print me off the contents list to date?”

She did so and he found what he wanted, the share purchase details from his broker.

He sat down at his desk and logged onto his own laptop. He set up a simple spread sheet and listed the companies that were named on the share certificates and the number of shares, and then he went onto the internet and found the current price of each of the shares to arrive at a total value for Phillips Austen's share portfolio.

“Three hundred and six thousand four hundred and ninety two pounds,” said Mick out loud. “That's just his shares, there are bank and building society accounts as well.”

He then picked up the five cardboard tubes and examined them for a postmark. With some difficulty he found what he wanted, the date the tubes had been posted which averaged out at nearly one a week.

*

At three o'clock Mick went upstairs for his meeting with Rachel.

“Come in,” she called as he knocked on the door. “So how was Germany Michael?”

“Extremely productive Ma'am but it has put a completely different complexion on our investigation. I have been working on the assumption that Phillip Austen was either in Stevenage that week on some sort of investigation for the Military Police or simply here for a holiday, meeting up with old friends, one of whom turned out not to be too friendly.”

However what Lieutenant Jordan and I discovered when searching his flat has completely changed the direction of the investigation. Far from investigating a crime it has become clear to me that Captain Phillip Austen was heavily involved in criminal activity himself.”

“What sort of criminal activity Michael?”

“The illegal importation of diamonds from South Africa Ma'am.”

“Obviously I would like further instructions from you about the boundaries of my investigation into the murder of Phillip Austen. It's a distinct possibility that what we have here is a case of ‘when thieves fall out.' It's unlikely that he was working alone, the major may have been a member of the criminal gang who was not satisfied with her share. It will be extremely difficult to investigate the murder whilst ignoring the criminal activity which the Military Police will undoubtedly want to pursue to establish if any other Military are involved.”

“Yes I see your dilemma, have you considered the best way forward?”

“There is one possibility Ma'am. When the subject of searching his flat in Paderborn first came up Brigadier Fredericks asked you if I could go to Germany and assist with the search. What if we reverse that and you ask the Brigadier if Andrew Jordan can come here to work alongside our team where we can exchange information and work together, with him looking at the criminal activity of one of their officers and me investigating the murder?”

“Let me think about that one Michael, I'll have to run it past the Deputy Chief Constable. I have to admit that the idea does appear to have some merit, although I've no idea how we split the budget even if we are both ultimately funded by the government.”

“If it helps I can let Matthew Witherley return to what he was doing previously, Bob North, Emma Stavely and myself, and hopefully Andrew Jordan, will be able to cope. Incidentally Ma'am, did you know that the Military Police paid for my Hotel as well as collecting and returning me to and from the Airport?”

“No I didn't, perhaps the Deputy Chief Constable did a deal with the Brigadier.”

“Perhaps he could do the same again and get Andrew Jordan over here.”

“I'll speak to him as soon as possible and let you know his decision.”

“Thank you Ma'am, there is one other matter I need to bring to your attention, a personal matter. My father is terminally ill with lung cancer, he is in the St. Martins Hospice and is not expected to live much longer.”

“Oh I am sorry Michael, you should have said something earlier.”

“Well I'm getting in to see him as often as I can but I'm on tenterhooks waiting for the call that tells me to get there immediately. Obviously when that happens I will let someone here know but on a practical level I'm making sure that Bob North and the rest of the team are up to speed with the investigation as I will need to be away for the odd day until after the funeral.”

“You must do what you think best Michael but thank you for letting me know.”

*

Mick went back down to the incident room and called a team meeting. They all got themselves a drink and congregated around Mick's desk. He ran through everything that had happened in Germany and that morning in Bishops Stortford.

“So it seems that our Military Policeman was at it big time,” said Matt.

“That's one way of putting it Matt,” said Mick.

“So what happens now?“ asked Bob.

“I've just had a meeting upstairs, we have to wait and see how they want us to proceed.”

Mick went down to his car and made a phone call that he didn't particularly want the others to hear.

“Afternoon Andrew, it's Michael Joyce speaking.”

“Hello Michael, did you have a good flight home?”

“Yes thanks apart from the thunder and lightning. Andrew, we've made a start on printing everything off but I discovered something very interesting. You remember the cardboard tubes we found at the flat, in particular the unopened one that the neighbour had taken in? Well when I opened it something fell out onto the desk, at first I thought it was broken glass, but it turns out that it was rough, uncut, unpolished diamonds.

When I cut the tube open there were more of them glued to the inside of the tube. I've shown them to a specialist and apparently they are worth at least twenty thousand pounds. With the other four tubes we found that means we could be talking of one hundred thousand pounds minimum over a five week period going on the postmarks on the tubes. Assuming Captain Austins cut was, say, five per cent after paying his brother and the mine owners together with the couriers and various other expenses, we are still talking about five thousand pounds minimum for five weeks work.

There was also an address on the outside of the tube saying where it had been sent from and a handwritten note inside saying to ‘acknowledge receipt of the enclosed'. The note was signed ‘Simon' and the address was Simon Austen's house in Bloemfontein, Phillip Austen's brother. I've just come out of a meeting with my superior officer and she in turn has to speak with the Deputy Chief Constable who has taken a personal interest in the case, probably because of the military connections and the associated political issues that raises.

Personally I think it would be a good idea if you could come and work from here, a joint effort to solve all aspects of the case to everybody's benefit. If you want to pass that on to Brigadier Fredericks, I'm sure our bosses will put their heads together and let us know how they want us to proceed. Anyway, good to talk to you Andrew, hopefully we'll speak again soon.”

*

Mick spent the rest of the afternoon reading through the first of the files that Matt and Emma were printing off but as he had not heard anything from upstairs he left at five-thirty to go to the hospice, telling the others to ring him on his mobile if there was any news. He got to the hospice before six and spoke to the receptionist,

“Good evening Mrs Carmichael, any change?”

“Good evening Mr Joyce, the doctor's upstairs now you will be able to have a quick word with him. And please call me Eileen.”

“O.K. I will thank you. Incidentally you seem to be always on duty no matter what day or time of day I come.”

“That's because I live on the premises Mr Joyce, as does one of the other receptionists who unfortunately is on sick leave at the moment so I am working extra shifts to cover for her.”

Mick walked up the stairs and met the doctor in the corridor, near the water colour pictures.

“Good evening Mr Joyce, I've just left your father.”

“How is he doctor?”

“He's comfortable at the moment, all we can really do now is to relieve his pain.”

Mick went into his father's room and sat by his bedside, in the green armchair. He sat back and closed his eyes, half awake and half asleep. He was suddenly aware of someone coming into the room, it was the nurse on her rounds, making sure that her patients were comfortable.

“Evening Mr Joyce, is he sleeping?”

Mick said he thought so, he had not spoken to or had a response of any kind from his father since he got there.

“I'm just about to make a pot of tea, would you like one?”

“Please,” said Mick “just a drop of milk, one sugar please.”

She brought him his tea and he asked her if she ever got used to this, waiting for people to die.

“You never really think of it in those terms. If you did you'd spend most of the day in tears. You have to try and remain detached but I admit that it's sometimes hard, particularly trying to say the right thing to the relatives. The patients are usually so sedated that they don't really know what's happening.”

“No, I suppose that's true, “said Mick.

She left the room and he sipped his tea slowly, watching his father lying there. He thought about when he and his brother were young, he would be about thirteen and Peter about seven, when their mother had been taken ill. She had been admitted to hospital at the start of the school summer holidays and had died on the August Bank Holiday.

She had never been in the best of health, he didn't know it at the time but she had two miscarriages and he just about remembered her having another baby, a boy, who died at three days old. He would have been two years younger than Mick and he sometimes wondered what he would have been like. Hopefully not like Peter who hadn't achieved a great deal in his life, two failed marriages and at least one house repossessed that he knew about. He looked at his watch, twenty past seven.

“Ah well, better get off dad, Sue will have my dinner ready and waiting. Bye then.”

There was no response and Mick left the room.

*

He drove home and his dinner was indeed waiting for him.

“How's your dad?”

“The doctor thinks it won't be long now, he is heavily sedated, any news from your mother?”

“I spoke to her at lunchtime, she didn't seem too bad.”

“Do you still want to go down at the weekend to see her?”

“Yes, if you don't mind.”

“Let's make a weekend of it, we'll get on the internet after we've eaten and see if we can get in a hotel on Saturday night.”

“What about your father Mick?”

“Sue, he's heavily sedated, I doubt whether he will know whether I am there or not when the time comes. I'll go in Friday night to see him. If I get a phone call on Saturday we'll decide what to do then, you could still go to your mothers and I'll meet you at the Hotel.”

They finished their meal and Mick managed to book a room in Winchester for Saturday night.

At five past ten the next morning, Rachel Bond rang and asked Mick to go up to her office.

“Come in Michael and sit down. To get straight to the point, the Deputy Chief Constable and I had a long chat late yesterday afternoon. He was adamant that our job is to solve the murder that happened in our area, and whilst he is happy for us to pass on any information we come upon during our investigation to the Military Police, we are not to get involved in investigating the smuggling of these diamonds. I put forward your suggestion about your Military Policeman coming here to work alongside us but he neither agreed nor disagreed with the idea, he said to let him think about that. Ten minutes ago he asked me to go to his office, apparently Brigadier Fredericks has been on to him to discuss the way forward “to everybody's benefit.”

Mick smiled at the use of that phrase. The Deputy Chief Constable had told him that his budget didn't run to investigating the smuggling of diamonds from South Africa to Germany but between them they have come up with the idea that Lieutenant Jordan comes here for a couple of weeks and effectively joins our team.

“I think that's an excellent idea ma'am”

“Yes I thought you'd like it Michael,” she said with a smile on her face. “Lieutenant Jordan will contact us shortly to make arrangements. Can you organise a desk for him in the incident room?”

“If you remember ma'am I did suggest that Matthew Witherley could be spared now if Andrew Jordan's joining us.”

“Fine, he can have his desk then, I'll pop down later to inform D. C. Witherley.”

“What's Andrew Jordan like Michael, will he fit in do you think?”

“He'll fit in just fine Ma'am, he's very bright and not afraid of hard work. He's also what my wife calls a ‘people person', he gets on well with the others at Paderborn and they respect him.”

“Will his wife mind him coming here for a couple of weeks?”

“He's divorced ma'am.”

“I've been asked to book him into a hotel, do you think the George will suffice?”

“Well I know the place he lives in has a residents Gym and pool which he uses every day so perhaps the Royal Oak might be better, if the budget will run to it.”

“Don't worry about that, the Brigadier and the Deputy Chief Constable have come to an arrangement”

“Might be a nice gesture if you pick him from the Airport though and generally settle him in.”

“Certainly Ma'am.”

“I'll see if there is a pool car we can let him have as well Michael.”

Mick returned to the incident room and asked how the printing was going. He was assured that it would be complete by lunchtime. He then picked up the loose leaf notebook that they had found in the hotel room in Cambridge. There were twelve pages each with ten sets of numbers and letters, so one hundred and twenty entries in all.

Thinking about what Andrew Jordan had said about the numbers being dates and the letters being the initials of names, he prepared a spread sheet with thirteen columns, the first twelve were for the months and the last one was for initials. He was hoping by putting the information onto a sheet in this way he might be able to see a pattern, did a particular set of initials occur on the same day each month for instance?

He completed the sheet and studied it carefully. There were fourteen different sets of initials and he looked to see if there was any sort of pattern but none was apparent. He showed the sheet to Bob and explained what he was trying to do.

“What if,” he thought “We could compare the dates on this sheet with his bank statements, if the loose leaf folder was a record of payments made to individuals, the bank statements might give their names?”

“Unless the payments were made in cash,” said Bob.

“True but can you have a look anyway when Emma has finished printing off the Bank stuff.”

Just after twelve the phone rang,

“Afternoon Michael, Andrew here. Are you sitting down?”

“Yes” said Mick, “It's not bad news I hope.”

“On the contrary, I have just had a call from Larry Gardner, our American contact at Ramstein Air base. A Major in their Medical Corps went on a week's leave a couple of weeks ago and has not returned. Larry showed your photo to a few people at the Landstuhl Medical centre where she worked and they confirmed that it was the same woman.

Her name is, Karen Hennessey, born eighth November, nineteen sixty nine, five foot eight inches tall, scar on right upper arm caused by shrapnel wound whilst in Afghanistan. Born in Newmarket, England. Her father Patrick was in the USAF based at Mildenhall, her mother Sylvia worked in a bank in Newmarket.

The family moved to the States when she was about ten or eleven, she was educated there and trained as a doctor at the Army's main medical facility at San Antonio, Texas.

She joined the Medical Corps and has been a rising star, doing tours in Iraq and Afghanistan before taking up a senior position at Landstuhl. Her parents were divorced about five years ago and the mother returned to England. Her father returned to the States and was killed in a car crash shortly afterwards.

Hope this helps?”

“It certainly does Andrew. Any news on when you are coming over?”

“I'm booked on the flight from Dortmund to Luton on Monday morning, landing at nine forty your time.”

“I'll pick you up Andrew, looking forward to seeing you again. And thanks for the information, we'll get straight on to it, see if we can find her mother for a start. Bye.”

Mick immediately rang Rachel to give her the good news and to confirm that Andrew would be here on Monday.

“Bob, job for you.”

He gave him Karen Hennessey's details and what they knew about her mother.

“I want you to find this woman, Sylvia Hennessey, now divorced so she might be using her maiden name. If we can find her it could be the best lead we have on our Major.”

*

At twelve thirty Micks mobile rang, the distinctive ring tone telling him that it was the hospice calling.

“Mr Joyce? St. Martins here, you might want to come over if you can, the Doctor has just completed his rounds and he thinks your father is now very weak.”

“I'll be with you in half an hour,” he said.

He told Bob and Emma and then rang Rachel.

“Hello Michael, not more good news is it?”

“No. I'm afraid not ma'am, the hospice have just rung, I need to get there as soon as possible.”

“Absolutely Michael, tell D.S North and D.C. Stavely to come to me with any problems or developments, you don't want to be disturbed at a time like this. We'll all be thinking of you.”

*

Mick went down to the car, pausing at the front desk to tell them what was happening and to put any calls through to Bob or Emma. He went out to the car park but before getting into the car, rang Sue to tell her.

“I'll ring you when I know something definite, don't bother to cook me a meal, I'll sort myself out.”

He then rang his brother.

“Peter? It's Mick. The hospice has just rung, if you want to see dad you'd better get over as soon as possible.”

“Well I'm a bit busy at the moment but I'll see what I can do.”

“Please yourself Peter, at least I've told you”.

*

Before he got to St Martins he stopped at a supermarket and got a bottle of mineral water, some sandwiches and the Daily Telegraph. He arrived at the hospice, parked in his usual spot under the chestnut tree and went in.

“Good afternoon Mr Joyce, go straight up.” said Eileen.

Mick followed the now familiar route to his father's room along the corridor. He went straight in without knocking and went over to the bed where his father was lying on his back, his eyes closed, his breathing shallow.

He sat down in the armchair and took off his jacket and tie. As he picked up his paper he thought he saw his father open his eyes,

“Dad, it's Michael, how do you feel?”

There was no response and his father looked exactly as he had done when Mick first entered the room. He opened his paper and read the items that caught his attention, particularly in the sports section. He completed the Sudoku puzzle in no time at all,

“It's all a question of elimination,” he had explained to Sue who preferred the crossword.

*

About four o'clock the nurse came in and took Bernard Joyce's pulse and checked the drips were all working properly.

“What do you think Nurse?”

“Think about what Mr Joyce?”

“About how long he has got.”

“It's truly impossible to say. He might slip away in the next hour, it could be a week.” She then gave him an injection ‘to make sure he was as comfortable as possible.'

“Can I get you a cup of tea?”

“Yes please” said Mick “that would be nice.”

“She returned a couple of minutes later and handed him his tea, “drop of milk and one sugar if I remember rightly.”

“Thanks “said Mick taking the tea from her, “you've got a good memory.”

He ate the sandwiches he had bought and drank the tea. The afternoon turned into evening, the evening into night. The doctor came to see his father about eight checked his pulse and prised open his eyelids
.
Mick looked at the doctor but didn't say anything.

“He doesn't want to go does he?” said the doctor.

Mick didn't answer. What sort of answer were you supposed to give to a question like that?

At a quarter past nine the door opened and Peter Joyce walked in. Peter was completely different in appearance to Mick, much shorter, somewhat overweight and nearly bald. He walked over to the bed, leaned over his father and said

“Hello dad, it's Peter.”

“Peter,” said his father opening his eyes, a faint smile crossing his lips.

“How are you feeling dad?”

He closed his eyes and drifted back to sleep.

Mick looked at Peter and said

“You made it then?”

“Of course I made it, I'm not that much of an arsehole.”

Mick didn't reply at first but then said “Can you sit with him for a few minutes whilst I go out and make a phone call?”

“Sure,” came the reply. Mick went out into the car park, breathing in the night air. Looking up at the sky he thought the stars were shining particularly bright that night. He took his mobile out and rang Sue.

“How is he?” she asked.

“Sleeping,” he replied and after a pause added “the prodigal son's turned up.”

“Well that's something at least.”

“I suppose so “said Mick. “I'll sleep here tonight, on the little guest bed. I'll ring you if anything happens. Bye sweetheart, love you.”