The Paderborn Connection by William A. Newton Page B

smiled and said good morning as he sat down.
    â€œGuten morgen,” replied the man.

    *
    The flight itself was fairly uneventful, the couple next to him chatted away in German, the man across the aisle was reading the Daily Mail and the two men immediately in front of him were discussing, in English, their forthcoming meeting at some sort of IT company’s offices in Ratingen which he guessed was just outside Dusseldorf.
    The plane landed on time and Mick retrieved his overnight bag from the overhead luggage locker, and made his way to the exit, stopping every few seconds to allow other passengers to leave their seats and collect their bags and coats from above. He eventually left the plane and waiting at the bottom of the steps was what Sue referred to as ‘the bendy bus’, a bus in two sections which had very few seats but seemed to accommodate at least half the dis-embarking passengers.
    He reached the terminal building and passed through the security gate marked ‘EU nationals’ without being stopped although he had his passport ready, nobody wanted to look at it.
    He passed into the main arrivals area and looked for somebody holding up the ubiquitous piece of cardboard with his name written on it in felt tip pen. He spotted his name ‘Michael Joyce’, not on a piece of cardboard but on a very professional looking sheet of white Perspex with printed letters in dark blue. He walked over to the man holding it.
    â€œGood morning, I’m Michael Joyce.”
    â€œGood morning,” said the man, a good six foot tall with brown hair cut short, aged about thirty five to forty guessed Mick, “I’m Andrew Jordan. The cars just over there if you would follow me, do you want a hand with your bag?”
    Mick said he was fine and followed Lieutenant Jordan to the car.
    â€œI half expected to see you in army uniform rather than a suit” Mick said as the settled into their seats.
    â€œWe don’t tend to wear uniform much, particularly away from the barracks, similarly your name board didn’t give your rank or any clue as to your occupation.”
    Mick realised immediately what the Lieutenant meant, “Security very much an issue is it then?”
    â€œAbsolutely,” came the reply.
    They exchanged the usual pleasantries as they drove out of the airport and made their way east, skirting around Dortmund and onto the road signposted ‘Paderborn.’
    â€œI’ve arranged to meet the letting agents at Captain Austen’s flat at five o’clock, his neighbours should be arriving home when we have finished in the flat, I thought you might want to speak to some of them.”
    â€œGood thinking Lieutenant.”
    â€œActually sir, would you mind calling me Andrew rather than referring to me by my rank”
    â€œOf course,” said Mick, “and please call me Michael.”
    â€œDid you get a chance to check if his car was parked at the airport?”
    â€œNo need to, I went to his flat last night, it’s only a few miles away from where I live. His car is in the car park. One other thing Michael, we’ll be meeting a German police officer at the flat. Whilst the Military Police have pretty well unrestricted jurisdiction when on army land or dealing with army personnel away from the barracks we do inform them if we intend to interview private citizens or search private property. I’ve told them one of our officers was murdered in the UK and we need to search his flat in Bielefeld.”
    They are not particularly interested in what happened in England but did express a wish to be present at the search of his flat, I suppose they want to be involved in case German law has been broken or if a German national is involved in some way.”
    â€œI don’t have a problem with that Andrew but I may want to take some items away with me, I’ll leave you to smooth that over with the German Police if it’s a problem.”

    *
    It