The Paderborn Connection

by William A. Newton

  “OK If this newspaper comes back on I’ll muddy the water a bit I think. I’ll tell him we are investigating an incident in Stevenage although it wasn’t a stabbing and my officers have seen some of these photos but have discounted them as they show nothing of any real interest to us. I might even ring a couple of the other redtops and tell them to be wary of anybody offering them photos or any other information as it could hinder our investigation. I’ve already told them to play this story down for security reasons.”

  “The main reason I came in was to tell you that I have spoken to the Military Police and I have a name and contact number for you, handing him a slip of paper with the details, he would be only too happy to see you and give you any help he can. I have to say that he seems to be a fairly high rank so perhaps Captain Austen was quite important. We have agreed that at this stage it is a civilian matter but we will keep him informed at all times in case it overlaps with anything they may be investigating.”

  *

  Ten minutes later Geoffrey Ives, a red-top editor, rang D.C.S Bond.

  “I think our source is genuine D.C.S Bond, he seem to have inside knowledge.”

  “For a start I will confirm that there was a suspicious death in Stevenage on Saturday night but number one the victim was not fat, number two he was not wearing a grey jacket and black trousers, number three he was not stabbed and number four we have no reason to suspect he was killed by a prostitute. If you publish those so called facts Mr Ives you could seriously jeopardise our investigations.”

  “Fair enough Chief Superintendent, I’ll hold fire for now but I would appreciate a call when you can give out more definite information.”

  “No promises Mr Ives but I have your number. Good-bye.”

  *

  That afternoon Mick Joyce rang the number in Fareham and asked to speak to Brigadier Fredericks.

  “Brigadier Fredericks speaking,” he said.

  “Good afternoon sir, my name is Detective Inspector Michael Joyce of The Hertfordshire Pol…”

  “Yes I had a conversation with Chief Superintendent Bond this morning. I understand you wish to see me about an incident you are investigating.”

  “That’s right sir.”

  “Fine I’m free tomorrow morning after ten, shall we say ten thirty here at Southwick Park, which is just outside Fareham. I’ll warn the main Gatehouse so you shouldn’t have any trouble but bring some identification with you, your passport and warrant card will suffice.”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow then sir,” was all that Mick could say before the Brigadier rang off.

  *

  Mick got home about six and asked Sue if his best pale blue shirt was clean and ironed,

  “It’s washed but not ironed yet, why?”

  “I’ve got a meeting with a Brigadier in Fareham tomorrow and I want to look my best.”

  “No problem, I’ll iron it while you wash up after dinner.”

  Mick went out to the garage and cleaned and polished his black shoes, then he took them to the bedroom and looked through his selection of ties. Something smart, obviously, but not old school tie or military looking He settled on a plain maroon silk one which he thought would look ok with his charcoal grey suit and pale blue shirt.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Mick set off for the journey to Fareham, he had about a hundred miles to go which would normally take about two and a half hours but with it being rush hour on Friday morning and a bank holiday week-end, he allowed himself three and a half, leaving home just before seven. He made good time around the M 25 until the stretch past Heathrow where the traffic had ground to a crawl, then a complete stop. He sat there waiting and watched the planes coming into land.

  The traffic started to move eventually and he soon reached the turn-off for Portsmouth and Southampton. From there he had a reasonably smooth journey down to Fareham. He found Southwick Park but it was only five to ten. He decided to check in anyway, he could always sit in his car until ten thirty. He stopped at the barrier and was immediately approached by a uniformed Military Policeman.

  “Good morning Sir, can you state your business here please?”

  “Yes, my name is Detective Inspector Michael Joyce of the Hertfordshire Police.”

  He produced his warrant card and his passport and handed them to the Corporal in the distinctive red cap. “I have an appointment at ten thirty with Brigadier Fredericks.”

  “If you could pull in over there please sir, I just need to make a phone call.”

  Mick pulled into the layby as he was told and waited. After about ten minutes the Corporal emerged from the security post and walked over to the car.

  “Sorry to keep you waiting Sir,” he said as he handed Mick his passport and warrant card. “If you would just follow me into the office we’ll get you booked in.”

  Mick got out of the car and followed the Corporal. He was directed to a desk and chair and handed a four page form to fill in which he did as quickly as possible, aware that it was now twenty past ten. The Corporal took the form, read through it and put it in a filing tray on the shelf at the back.

  “ Right sir, if you drive along this road for about three hundred metres, turn left at the white building with a cycle shelter in front of it and carry on for another two hundred metres you will come to a car park in front of a two storey flat roofed building on your left. Park in the car park, in a space marked ‘visitors’ and go into the office block through the white painted door on the right as you look from the car park. They are expecting you and somebody will meet you inside the building.”

  Mick did as he had been instructed and was indeed met just inside the door.

  “If you would follow me please Detective Inspector Joyce.”

  He followed the officer along a corridor, and was then asked to wait. The officer knocked on the door and Mick heard a voice call out

  “Come in.”

  The officer entered the room and almost immediately came out again, “the Brigadier will see you now sir.”

  *

  The Brigadier was just as Mick had imagined, tall, immaculately turned out, albeit in his day uniform, and simply oozed authority. He stood up, walked around his desk and held out his hand to greet his visitor.

  “Thank you for coming down here, Inspector, I hope you had a good journey?”

  “Not too bad Sir and thank you for seeing me.”

  “Please sit down,” said the Brigadier indicating the chair to Mick’s right.

  “I’ve ordered a pot of tea, I hope that’s all right?”

  “Yes, fine thank you Sir.”

  “Chief Superintendent Bond gave me the basic facts but if you would like to give me a fuller report I’ll make notes and hopefully be in a position to ask you some pertinent questions.”

  There was a knock on the door and the pot of tea was brought in by a young woman in Military Police uniform.

  Mick had printed out a comprehensive report the previous day and he referred to it constantly as he told the Brigadier everything that had happened since he got the phone call on Sunday morning.

  “That’s a copy of my report for you to keep sir. You will see that it includes photographs of Captain Philip Austen and the woman we are calling the major.”

  The Brigadier studied the photographs. “I haven’t seen too much of Captain Austen in the last couple of years, but yes, that’s definitely him. I don’t recognise the women at all though I’m afraid.”

  “As I say in my report Sir we are referring to the woman as ‘the major’ but that is only based on what the waiter in the chinese restaurant thought Captain Austen called her. We’re not even sure if she is British.”

  “You describe how he was killed and the suggestion is that he was killed by someone with surgical knowledge, possibly a major. There are of course majors serving in NATO forces throughout Europe but if she’s British she’ll be in quite a senior role. I can make some enquiries on those lines, discreetly of course, but it will be considerably more difficul
t if she’s not British though.”

  “Thank you sir that would be a big help. I would like to know what Captain Austen’s role was in the Military Police. I understand from his warrant card that he was an Investigating Officer.”

  “That’s right Inspector. Basically he was a detective doing much the same job as yourself I imagine, but largely restricted to crimes involving military personnel.”

  “Are you able to tell me what he has been working on recently?”

  “Up to a point yes, you have signed the Official Secrets Act of course?”

  Mick confirmed that he had.

  “I had his most recent files sent over yesterday and it appears that he was pursuing a case of petty theft of Army equipment. If you are thinking that might be a motive for his murder I suggest that it is unlikely that somebody would murder him, particularly in the way that he was killed, over a relatively minor offence.”

  “Yes sir, I’m sure you’re right.”

  “The other line of enquiry that I would like to pursue is his life in Germany, who did he socialise with, did he have a life outside the army? The only address I have for him, apart from his home in Guildford, is BFPO22.”

  The Brigadier looked down at his own file and said “Well I can tell you now that he rented a flat in the Gadderbaum district of Bielefeld, a few miles north of Paderborn. “

  “Has anybody from the Military Police been to the flat since he died?”

  “No,” said the Brigadier, “but I think perhaps we should.”

  “Assuming I can clear it with my superiors, I would like to accompany your officers to search his flat for anything that might help me progress the investigation Sir.”

  “Let’s give Chief Superintendent Bond a call shall we,” he said already reaching for his contacts file. He dialled the number and was put through to her immediately.

  “Good morning, Brigadier Fredericks here. I have your Inspector Joyce with me. My people in Paderborn are going to Captain Austen’s flat to try and shed some light on this unfortunate matter. It would help me considerably if Inspector Joyce could accompany them and at the same time update my people on the ground as to the circumstances surrounding his death. I think it would be mutually beneficial.”

  They exchanged a few pleasantries, and Mick had to hide a smile. “This man can charm the birds out of the trees,” he thought.

  “That’s agreed then, if Inspector Joyce can fly to Germany on Monday morning, I will arrange for him to be met at the airport. I would suggest that he stays overnight and returns Tuesday early evening. I’m sure the Inspector will keep you updated but don’t hesitate to ring if you have anything you want to know or wish to discuss. Good-bye then Chief Superintendent.”

  “That’s settled then. I believe there a plane from Stansted to Dusseldorf, I’ll give you a number to ring in Paderborn and somebody will meet you.”

  He consulted his contacts file again and wrote down a telephone number and a name, Lieutenant Jordan.

  “Good luck then Inspector, I’m sure we’ll speak again soon.”

  “Yes, and thank you sir.”

  The Brigadier pressed a button under his desk and within seconds the officer who had escorted him from the entrance door appeared to show him out to his car.

  *

  It was eleven fifteen when Mick drove out of the main gate and made his way home. Mick smiled to himself and wondered why the Brigadier’s uniform was a sort of beige and khaki desert camouflage, surely if he didn’t want to be seen in his office he should be wearing a coarse dark grey fabric to match his swivel chair.

  Not rushing, listening to a CD and going over the morning’s meeting in his mind, he saw the sign for the turning to Winchester and decided to stop and have some lunch. He parked near the town centre and walked around in the summer sunshine until he came to a small park with a stream running through it. He walked through the park and found himself at the Cathedral and seeing a sign that advertised lunches in the refectory, he ventured in, ordered a chicken salad and sat in the paved courtyard in the lee of a high stone wall.

  He thought about his trip to Germany on Monday and decided he must make a list of all of the questions he needed to ask, the information he needed to gather and the best way of going about it. How much help would Lieutenant Jordan be? How would he feel about working with a detective from the U.K.?

  He finished his salad and walked back to his car passing the statue of King Alfred which stood in the middle of the main street. He left Winchester and headed back up the M 3, and made surprisingly good time back to Hatfield considering that it was a bank holiday week-end, arriving just after four.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Mick walked into the incident room and asked if there was any news. There wasn’t and he poured a cup of coffee and rang Rachel and asked to see her before she left that evening. She told him to come straight up and he knocked on her door.

  “Come in,” she called and he walked in to be met not just by her, but also by the Deputy Chief Constable.

  “Good afternoon Michael. I trust you are keeping well? And how’s your wife, Sue isn’t it?”

  “I’m very well thank you sir and so is Sue. We’ve just celebrated our twenty fifth wedding anniversary.”

  *

  Rachel Bond was somewhat surprised at this familiarity but the Deputy Chief Constable, noting the look on her face, explained that he and Michael Joyce knew each other from years ago when he was an Inspector and Michael was a Constable in the same station in the Met.

  “Now then, I understand you are off to Germany on Monday to help our friends in the Military Police?”

  “Yes sir, there’s not much more we can do here and Brigadier Fredericks seemed anxious that I should stay involved and suggested that I should follow the Paderborn connection and be present when his people search Captain Austen’s flat.”

  “I don’t have any problem with that, up to a point. Whilst you are investigating the murder, which took place on our turf, I am quite willing to authorise the expense and time necessary, but I don’t want you to do the Military Police’s job for them if it means you spending time and resources in investigating something that goes beyond the murder.”

  “I’m not sure I follow you sir.”

  “Then I’ll spell it out for you. If he was murdered because he was investigating a crime committed by military personnel, particularly if that crime was instigated or committed abroad, then it is for them to solve that crime and to pass on to you any information to assist you in bringing the murderer to justice in this country”

  “Yes sir, I understand, “said Mick.

  “I suggest you keep Chief Superintendent Bond informed at all times and she will consult with me if the lines get blurred.”

  “Yes sir, I’ll certainly do that.”

  *

  Mick went down to the incident room and asked Emma to book him on a flight to Dusseldorf on Monday Morning and a return on Tuesday evening. He took out his wallet and gave her a credit card. He thought about asking her to book him a hotel in Paderborn but thought he’d better wait until the flight was confirmed and he had spoken to Lieutenant Jordan.

  Whilst Emma did the business on the internet, Mick told Bob what had happened and about his imminent trip to Germany. He also confided in him that he was worried about the Deputy Chief Constables instructions about not crossing boundaries and admitted that he did not feel comfortable in these situations. Politics was best handled by his superiors, he just wished they wouldn’t involve him.

  Emma printed off the flight booking confirmation and handed it to Mick along with the credit card.

  “With it being a bank holiday in the U.K. I couldn’t get you a flight with any of the usual operators but I’ve got you on an Air Berlin flight, Germany doesn’t have the same public holidays that we have. It leaves Stansted at seven fifty five am, arrives Dusseldorf Rhein Ruhr Airport ten twenty. Return Tuesday seven pm, arrives Stansted seven twenty. All times local times of course.”

&
nbsp; “That’s brilliant Emma thanks.”

  Mick then looked up the number he had been given for Lieutenant Jordan in Paderborn and rang it, looking at his wristwatch as he did so, nearly six o’clock or seven o’clock German time.

  Mick let it ring for a while longer and to his relief it was answered.

  “Lieutenant Jordan speaking,” said a breathless voice.

  “Sorry if I’ve called at a bad time, this is Inspector Joyce calling from the Hertfordshire Police.”

  “Good evening Inspector, sorry I was along the corridor when you called, I was told by Brigadier Fredericks that you would be ringing.”

  “If you’ve got pen and paper handy I’ve got the flight details for Monday.”

  After a few seconds he said, “fire away.”

  Mick gave the times and flight numbers for Monday and Tuesdays flights and Lieutenant Jordan confirmed that he would personally meet Mick and return him to Dusseldorf Airport on the Tuesday.

  “I understand that one of the main reasons for your visit is to go to Captain Austen’s flat in Bielefeld.”

  “That’s right replied Mick.”

  “Well I’ve been onto the management company and they are going to meet us there to let us in, I just need to confirm the time.”

  “That’s good, but I wouldn’t want them coming in to the flat with us, we don’t know what we’re going to find. Also I’d like some background information on Captain Austen’s life, who his friends were, what he was working on and so on, in fact anything that would indicate a motive and identify his murderer. When you get to the Airport on Monday, can you check to see if his car is parked there? He was due to fly back on the Thursday, that’s to say yesterday.”

  “We didn’t find any car keys with his personnel possessions so he might have got a lift there or travelled by train, in which case his car should be parked at the flat. Incidentally when you ring the management company can you ask them to bring any relevant paperwork, who pays the bills and from what bank account, that sort of thing, I am assuming you speak German Lieutenant Jordan?”