The Paderborn Connection (12 page)

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.”

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 the 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.”

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 1
^st
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.”