Mick asked Emma and Bob to concentrate on putting the folder with all of the definite facts that they had about Karen Hennessy together and he suggested that Andrew could accompany him to interview her.
At two thirty the duty solicitor arrived and was shown into interview room number two. Karen Hennessey was brought from the cells and was allowed to speak to the solicitor for a while before they were joined by Mick and Andrew. Mick explained to the solicitor, who he had dealt with many times before, that Andrew Jordan was a Lieutenant in the Royal Military Police who had been seconded to the team due to overlapping investigations into criminal activity by serving military personnel.
Mick switched on the tape recorder and began by asking her
“If she understood that she had been arrested in connection with the murder of Captain Phillip Austen of the Royal Military Police on the night of 20thand 21st August in Stevenage, Hertfordshire?”
She said yes, she understood.
“Did you commit this murder?” asked Mick staring her straight in the face.
“No, I don’t know anybody called Phillip Austen,” she replied.
“Where were you on the night in question?”
“At the pictures” she replied.
“Which pictures?”
“The multi-plex in Watford.”
“And you’re sure that was the Saturday night, not Friday or Sunday?”
“Definitely Saturday.”
“Which film did you see?”
“Slumdog Millionaire.”
“That’s set in Mumbai isn’t it,” said Andrew.
“Yes,” she replied, her face absolutely expressionless.
Mick put the photo of her in front of the Dragon on the wall at the Peking palace on the table and asked her, “Is this you?” She shrugged her shoulders but didn’t reply.
“Do you deny having met with Phillip Austen on eleven separate occasions at the Hotel Zwolf Schornsteine in Cologne between February and August this year, staying for the Friday and Saturday night and sleeping in the same room?”
Her bottom lip began to tremble and a tear ran down her cheek.
“I ask you again Miss Hennessy, did you murder Phillip Austen?”
She asked if she could speak to the solicitor in private.
Mick said “for the benefit of the tape Inspector Joyce and Lieutenant Jordan are leaving the room at three thirty two.”
He then switched the tape off and the two of them went outside.
*
About five minutes later the solicitor opened the door and they went back in. Mick switched on the tape and said that he and Lieutenant Jordan had re-entered the room at three thirty eight.
Mick again looked straight at her and said “Did you murder Captain Phillip Austen?”
“Yes” she replied in a controlled, although quiet voice.
“Could you repeat that for the tape please” said Mick, “Yes” she said but this time louder.
“You will be appearing in court where the charge of murder will be put to you. Do you understand?”
“Yes” she replied. “Interview terminated at three forty six” said Mick. He removed the tape from the recorder and they left the room as soon as the custody Sergeant arrived to escort her back to her cell and the solicitor out to the front desk.
They went back to the incident room and when Mick reported that she had confessed there were smiles and congratulations all round. Mick phoned Rachel and gave her the news and she said how delighted she was.
He went downstairs to the custody suite and spoke to the Sergeant on duty.
“I want her checked regularly and check everything that gets taken into her, food, drinks, change of clothes, everything, I have this feeling that she might attempt something, she committed the murder in an unusual way, she probably knows more ways to end a life than you or I have ever heard of.”
Mick went back upstairs and asked Andrew and Emma to liaise with Scene of Crimes and get any paperwork and hopefully her laptop plus anything else of relevance to their enquiry.
“When you get back you can make a start on printing off anything on her laptop. I’ll be back on Wednesday and we will have a team meeting at ten am to see where we are.”
He then rang Rachel Bond to update her, she said that she would be thinking of him and his wife the next day.
CHAPTER THIRTY TWO
Tuesday morning was a glorious day, the start of a real Indian summer. Mick took his orange juice out into the garden and breathed in the sweet smells of the roses and lavender. Sue came out to join him and she put her arms around his waist with her head on his shoulder.
“Are you going to be all right?” She asked.
“Yes I think so but I’ll be glad when it’s all over.”
She said that she would go to the shops and get some bread rolls, cold meats, a pork-pie and a few other bits and pieces for people coming back to the house.
Mick sat in the garden until eleven thinking about the funeral and trying not to think about work even though he was anxious to know what was happening. He had promised Sue that he would not ring anybody and he intended to keep his promise, there were plenty of other people who could deal with any problems.
Sue returned from the shops and went for a shower. She got dressed and walked into the lounge in her new black suit which she wore with a plum coloured blouse and a jet necklace and matching earrings. She looked stunning, as she always did, and he pulled her towards him gently kissing her on the forehead, taking in the most wonderful feminine smell that she gave off, a combination of new clothes, almond shampoo and Channel Number Five.
“Time you were showered and changed,” she said and Mick went off to get ready.
He dressed in his charcoal grey suit, white shirt and black tie.
They left for the undertakers in plenty of time and got there before two. They parked in the undertakers own private car-park and went in to be met by Mr Mitchell. Mick introduced him to Sue and they were invited to sit in a private room until it was time to go. Ten minutes later the door opened and Mr Mitchell showed Peter Joyce into the room. He was dressed in a dark jacket and trousers with an open necked pale blue shirt. He looked decidedly uncomfortable but Sue spoke first
“Nice to see you again Peter, it’s just a shame it’s not in happier circumstances.”
He said it was nice to see her again.
At two fifteen Mr Mitchell came in and said that it was time to go, they went out to the car and all three of them sat in the back seat with Sue in the middle. The hearse left first and they followed behind, in less than ten minutes they pulled into the main gate of the crematorium.
David Mitchell got out of the hearse and opened their car door. “If you’d follow me I’ll see you to your seats and the coffin will be brought in as the music starts.”
They sat down and Mick nodded to Donald Makepeace who was standing at the front.
Mick was aware that there were quite a few people already sitting down. He had recognised a few of course, he would try and speak to them all afterwards. The music was very calm and seemed to drift around the room until it slowly faded out.
“That was a piece called ‘Adagio in G Minor’ said Donald Makepeace. We are gathered here today not just to mourn the passing of Bernard Joyce but to remember him and to celebrate his life. Bernard was born here in Enfield, grew up here, worked here, married here and lived here all of his life. His wife, Rosemary, sadly died when his two sons, Michael and Peter were still at school.
He did his duty in the war, serving with the Super Heavy Artillery Regiment seeing service in Belgium, Holland and Germany. He had fairly simple tastes in life, he was a keen fisherman and loved the outdoors. His son Michael told me that one of his greatest pleasures was listening to the radio, particularly on Sundays.”
He played the second piece, ‘And I love you so’. He then said “that Michael had told him that it was one of his father’s favourites, they used to listen to Family Favourite’s on the radio
and he remembered the places people wrote in from with requests, particularly the BFPO numbers and asked his father if they could go to BFPO 40 for their holidays that year instead of Southend, much to his parent’s amusement.” There was a ripple of laughter around the room, it obviously struck a chord with other people.
Donald Makepeace spoke for another five minutes, talking about the working man’s lot in general and how we come into this world with nothing and leave with nothing. He then said that although this was not a religious service at the request of the family, he was always aware that other mourners liked to say at least one prayer and he then led them in the Lord’s Prayer.
He then played the third and final piece, ‘Intermezzo from Cavalleria Rusticana.’ As the music played quite a few people were dabbing their eyes, not just the more sensitive souls, Mick noticed that Peter was practically sobbing into his handkerchief.
*
Just as the music was coming to an end the blue velvet curtains drew across the coffin, the undertaker walked to the front bowed and then indicated that the family should follow him out.
They all gathered on the lawn outside and Mick shook hands with several men he had never seen before, apparently they were friends of his father many of who used to drink with him in the British Legion.
One of them, a frail looking man in blazer, tie, grey flannels and once white plimsolls, introduced himself as Vic Morris, explaining that he had served with Bernard in Holland and Germany. He then said that “he was surprised that the man doing all the talking hadn’t mentioned the fact that Bernard had been awarded a Distinguished Conduct Medal for Bravery.”
Apparently their gun position was nearly over-run and he had fought off the attackers, with a Bren-gun he had picked up from near the body of a Canadian Sergeant the day before, until all of the gun crew got to safety in a nearby copse of beech trees.
Mick said that he had no idea and Vic said, “Bernard didn’t talk about it. When the gun crew emerged from the trees, after the firing stopped, they found him staring out at the open ground in front of him, his face ashen, his hands shaking. They had been attacked by a platoon of Hitler youth from the nearby village, seven of which now lay dead in the mud. They were no more than thirteen or fourteen years old.”
“Just boys” Bernard had said, over and over. “Just boys”.
Mick’s mind went back to a summer’s day when his father had taken him and Peter to the park. The boys were playing a game, running around shouting, making that rat-a-tat noise that boys make and pretending to shoot each other with sticks which finished with both boys rolling around on the ground as if they had been shot. Mick could still see the look on his father’s face, not so much a look, more a vacant, faraway expression and he finally understood the reason.
There was also a group of four elderly women, one he recognised, Mrs Farrow the neighbour who introduced him to the other three women, also neighbours.
He then moved towards his own friends, Ronnie and Carol Townley and Ronnie’s Mother Irene who he had not seen for a while. Sue’s best friend Helen was there and Mick gave her a hug and a peck on the cheek. He sought out Donald Makepeace and thanked him for the way he had conducted the funeral.
After about fifteen minutes people started to disperse and Mr Mitchell said if they were ready the car would take them back to the Funeral Parlour to collect their cars. Sue gave Helen her front door key, they had agreed that she would go back to their bungalow and “put the kettle on”. Mick told Ronnie to follow Helen and he would see them shortly.
They got back to the undertakers and shook hands with Mr Mitchell, thanking him for a ‘nice funeral’.
“Are you coming back for an hour,” said Mick to his brother.
“Yes if that’s O.K.?”
“Of course it is Peter.”
*
They all stood in the garden enjoying the fine weather and Helen and Sue brought out tea and trays of rolls with a selection of fillings which seemed to go down very well.
Mick followed Sue back into the kitchen and when they were alone he asked her if she had an idea how much of his father’s money would be left when all the bills had been paid. She fetched the little book and said it would be about nineteen hundred pounds.
“I think I’ll give Peter a thousand now and have done with it.”
He went to the safe in the bedroom, counted out a thousand pounds and put it into an envelope.
They all stood chatting for a good hour in the late summer sunshine, and Ronnie, Carol, his wife, and Irene his mother, left first followed by Helen. Peter said that he’d better get off as well, Mick said
“Hang on a minute Peter.”
He went to the bedroom, took the envelope out of the drawer and went back into the kitchen where Sue and Peter were talking.
“Here take this, we’ve just about sorted out Dad’s money, there’s a couple of bills to pay but I’ll sort those out.”
Peter looked in the envelope and said “There’s a quite a lot here, are you sure?”
“Of course I am, don’t spend it all at once.”
They said their farewells and Peter drove off, wisps of blue smoke coming out of the Transit van’s exhaust.
CHAPTER THIRTY THREE
On Wednesday morning Mick drove into work with very mixed emotions. Sad and at the same time relieved that the funeral was over but also looking forward to getting into work and finding out what had happened the day before. He had kept his promise to Sue and had resisted the temptation to sneak out and ring to get an update.
He walked into the incident room, the team were all sitting at their desks working away on their laptops. They all asked him if he was all right and how had the funeral gone, he answered that he was O.K and that the funeral had passed without any problems.
His first task of the day was to ring Don Grady at St Albans to let him know that they had arrested Karen Hennessey at an address just outside Bury St Edmunds.
He then rang Rachel who told him to go up.
“How are you Michael?” she asked.
“O.K. Ma’am thank you,” he replied, “glad it’s all over to be honest. What’s happening about Karen Hennessey?”
“I had a meeting yesterday with the Crown Prosecution Service and they don’t foresee any problems. The preliminary trial hearing has been set for next Monday at three and assuming she pleads guilty to what was clearly a pre-meditated murder, she will be sent to a remand prison to await sentencing, probably in six or seven weeks’ time.”
“Are we pursuing any charges for her involvement in the diamond smuggling Ma’am?”
“Unlikely Michael. The Deputy Chief Constable has always been keen to leave that to others, particularly now that we know she is a serving American Officer. I have spoken to Brigadier Fredericks and he is happy to deal with the British Servicemen involved. The South African Police and their Revenue Service have made their arrests. The West Midlands Police have arrested the two Birmingham businessmen. If the American Military want to take any action against Karen Hennessey that’s up to them but it would seem unlikely if she is serving a long sentence in a British Prison.”
“I think I’m right in saying that you’ve averaged over sixty hours a week for the last four weeks and you haven’t taken any leave since Easter Michael, why don’t you take some time off in a couple of weeks’ time when all of the paperwork should be pretty well complete and get away for a break.”
“Thank you Ma’am, I’m sure my wife would like that.”
Mick went back to the incident room and switched on his laptop, just then his phone rang.
“Michael, Don Grady here. I’ve just looked at the note I made when you asked us to keep an eye on Mrs. Sylvia Morrison’s house and I’ve just realised that we were called to that address two days ago. The milkman reported that her milk hadn’t been taken in for a couple of days so we sent a car round to have a look, Mrs Morrison was found dead on the kitchen floor, looks like a heart attack. I thought you ought to know.”
“OK Don thanks. Can you send over a copy of the death certificate asap when I’m absolutely certain of the facts I’ll tell Karen Hennessey myself.” Mick told the rest of the team the news from St Albans and then rang Rachel.
“Sorry to bother you again Ma’am but I’ve just heard from St. Albans. Mrs Sylvia Morrison, Karen Hennessey’s mother, was found dead in her home a couple of days ago, apparently from a heart attack. I’ve asked them to send over a copy of the death certificate and I have told them that we will inform Keren Hennessey.”
“OK Michael, let me know when you have it, I’ll tell her myself.”
“Anything interesting from the bungalow Andrew?” said Mick.
“Emma has started printing off the contents of her computer and I intend to have a look at the other paperwork. Bob and I interviewed her yesterday afternoon for an hour, I wanted to know why she murdered Captain Austen. I told her what we knew about their relationship, their weekends in Cologne and so on. I asked her how they had met, she said it was in Afghanistan two years previously when Phillip Austen was temporarily posted there.
They started seeing each other and he brought up the subject of her taking a few parcels from Germany to the U.K when she said she was being posted to Landstuhl. She agreed, even though she suspected that it wasn’t exactly above board. Once she was in Germany she saw quite a bit of Phillip Austen and the trips to the U.K. with the little packages became much more frequent. Over the course of time he told her what was in the packages, where they were coming from and what their ultimate destination was once she had handed them over to the Indian Couriers in the U.K.
In the last few weeks she was getting tired of the constant travelling and her absences were beginning to be noticed by her colleagues. She told Phillip Austen that she didn’t want to do it any more, something that he was not happy about. In the middle of August she said that the trip planned for that weekend would be her last. He said that he would take a week’s leave and fly over to see her in the U.K to try and sort out the problem but he made it very clear that she was in too deep to back out now. She knew far too much about the operation and if it ever came to court he would go down for a very long time, something he would not allow to happen.
The Paderborn Connection Page 18