she died.”
So Vogler had lied when he claimed not to have talked with
Franziska Leyhausen between Birkner’s murder and her own. He also
seemed to have a reason to detest Philip Birkner and Julia Munz, if
Sonja Birkner was right that he had been brutally bullied by their
clique in high school.
“It’s possible that he killed Julia Munz, but Birkner?” Alex said,
doubtfully. “After such a long time? Isn’t that way too late?”
Max raised his shoulders. “Who knows how long he carried this
grudge. A tiny trigger is all it takes . . .”
“But why would he take a job with his old tormentor?” Alex con-
tinued with his doubts. “If I landed by chance in the firm of my arch-enemy, I’d get out of there as fast as I could.”
“Maybe it wasn’t by chance at all,” Lina said.
Hanno looked at her with interest. “You mean Vogler applied for
the job at Inoware on purpose, knowing it was Birkner’s company?”
“What would he get out of it?” Alex asked.
“He got very close to Birkner that way,” Max said, continuing the
thread, “and could possibly ruin the company by manufacturing a pro-
gramming mistake.”
246
Dead Woods
“But things didn’t quite turn out the way Vogler imagined,” Lina
said, taking up the ball again. “Yes, Inoware goes bust, but Birkner has a soft fall and finds a job immediately. So Vogler keeps his eye on him and waits for the next opportunity.”
“Which came last Thursday,” Hanno said slowly. “He has a date
with Franziska Leyhausen, arrives late, sees her flirt with Philip, and snaps.” Energized, he straightened in his chair. “We’ve got to find out pronto what happened at that school.” He leafed through the papers
in front of him. “We’ve got the names of the members of this clique.
Let’s question them.” He looked up. “Why don’t we start with Lukas
Birkner? It so happens we have him right here.”
The picture of misery waiting for them in the interrogation room
reminded Lina of Frank Jensen. He had sat here just as unwashed,
unshaven, and red-eyed a week ago. Lukas Birkner looked up when
Max and Lina entered, but quickly looked to the floor again when he
saw their expressions.
Lina scrutinized the man, who was less than a year younger than
his dead brother but looked at least ten years older. His stringy hair fell over his face, his shirt was soiled, and huge sweat stains were visible under his armpits. He reeked of alcohol and an unwashed body.
“Your wife’s in the hospital,” Lina said.
Birkner swallowed. “That’s . . . I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt her, but . . .”
“. . . but she provoked you, didn’t she? It’s actually not your fault that your hand just slipped, is it?” Lina couldn’t help being sarcastic.
She could imagine rather than actually see Max’s warning frown.
Lukas Birkner bent over. “No. I mean, it was my fault, of course. I
just snapped and didn’t know what I was doing anymore. Please believe me. I’m incredibly sorry and I promise—”
247
Maria C. Poets
“Don’t make any promises right now,” Max interrupted him
calmly. “Instead, tell us what made you beat your wife that way.”
Birkner looked down. “I . . . I don’t exactly know. I had some
drinks, and we quarreled, and then . . . then it just happened.”
Lina clenched her fists under the table so Birkner couldn’t see them and said nothing.
“What did you argue about?” Max asked.
“I forget.”
“You’re lying,” Max said.
Lukas Birkner looked at Max, tried to look genuinely shocked, but
failed. He opened his mouth to defend himself, but Max just shook his head. Birkner shut his mouth again and looked down.
“The argument was about Daniel Vogler and your brother, wasn’t
it?” Max said. Birkner nodded. “Tell us what happened at school back then.”
Lina could see it working inside Lukas Birkner: How much did
they know? How much had Sonja told them? What did Sonja know?
He shrugged.
“We just liked to hassle him, maybe more often than others. He
practically invited it: the teachers’ pet, the know-it-all, the slowpoke.”
Birkner looked at Max. “I don’t know what Sonja told you. But she
wasn’t even in our clique then, so she wouldn’t know anything.” For a moment, he seemed relieved, as if that solved all his problems. He was about to look to the ground again, when Lina startled him by leaning forward and smacking both palms onto the table with a bang.
“So you beat your wife up for no reason at all? Just because you and your clique back then bullied one classmate more often than others?”
She looked as if she were itching to spit at him. “Rotten coward,” she mumbled quietly, so the