Dead Woods - maria c. poets Page 0,15

have.”

Lina collapsed in her chair. Calling people on any kind of list usu-

ally had as much success as playing the lottery, but it took much more work. “There’re more than forty numbers,” she mumbled, but nobody

volunteered to help her.

Max looked at his watch. “The public relations office will make a

statement to the press in an hour. Should we mention the witness and ask her to contact us?”

Hanno thought it over quickly and then shook his head. “If she

really is a witness, let’s hope she contacts us when she hears that someone died. Maybe she hasn’t found out yet. If she’s involved in the crime, our request to come forward won’t help.” He paused. “We’ve got to

check the subway stations in the vicinity. Maybe the videotapes show 36

Dead Woods

some flipped-out adolescents.” He looked at the large map of the city on the wall opposite his desk. “Niendorf Markt and Hagendeel. I’ll

arrange for us to get hold of the surveillance tapes. As soon as they arrive, you check them out, Sebastian. In the meantime, contact the

beat cops and find out whether they noticed anything. Give them a

description of the witness, too.” He continued studying the city map.

“And there’s also the matter of the plant. It’s strange. I’ve never

come across such a thing.” He scratched his head. “There must be a forest ranger for a place like the Niendorfer Gehege. Max, find out who’s in charge and talk to that person. Maybe things like that are more common than we know.”

Hanno looked at his colleagues over the rims of his glasses. “How

about the victim’s milieu? It seems obvious that he cheated on his

domestic partner. Does she know about it?” He turned to Lina and

Max. “What’s your impression of Frau Ansmann?”

Lina and Max looked at each other. “She was slightly under-

whelmed by the death of Birkner, if you ask me,” Lina said. “I mean, he’s her partner and the father of her son.” She shrugged. “And if he cheated on her, she’d also have a motive.”

Hanno scratched his head. “Only if she knew about it.”

“I know, but nevertheless . . . ,” Lina replied.

“Did you check out her alibi?” Hanno asked.

“Not yet. But I have a funny feeling about that woman. Something

isn’t right.”

“Yes, yes, your famous gut feeling,” Sebastian mumbled and Lina

rolled her eyes. True, every investigator had a strange feeling every now and then. Sometimes it meant something, sometimes it turned out

wrong, but Sebastian acted as if it were just one of her quirks.

Hanno ended the discussion. “Lina, if you feel that strongly, why

don’t you pursue the matter? Check her alibi.” He grinned. “And your gut feeling.”

37

Maria C. Poets

“Yes, my lord and master,” she mumbled, but so quietly that only

Max could hear it. He grinned.

“How about personal enemies . . . old debts . . . unpaid bills?” their boss asked.

“Frau Ansmann suggested that we take a look at one of Birkner’s

former employees, a Frank Jensen.” Max briefly reported what he had

found out so far about the end of Birkner’s company. “In her opinion, Jensen was responsible for the bankruptcy. Birkner gave him a bad exit report, and he’s unemployed because of it.”

Hanno looked at him with a frown. “And that’s a legitimate motive

for murder?” he asked.

Max shrugged. “You asked for open accounts. That seems to be

one.”

Hanno groaned quietly. “Be careful with what you wish for.

Sometimes you just might get it.”

38

Chapter 5

“Why is it always me who gets the shitty end of the stick?” Lina asked without looking up when Max sat down at his desk with a cup of tea.

The chair was squeaking.

“Because you’re the youngest. Besides, Sebastian is hardly better

off: he has to talk with the beat cops and watch videos. You, at least, can investigate your favorite enemy.” He blew on his steaming tea to cool it.

“She isn’t my favorite enemy.”

“But you’d be pleased if you could charge her with something.”

Max shook his head. “I wonder what you have against her. Just because she has money doesn’t automatically make her a bad person—even if

you don’t like her.” He took a sip of his tea. Lina could smell the herbs: peppermint, lemon balm, and something else she couldn’t identify.

“Tell me, are there any people with money you don’t have a problem

with?”

Lina looked up and frowned. “How can you say that? Nonsense.”

“Well, we had a similar situation in the Schmehl case, and when

we did the investigation in Duvenstedt last year, in that villa, you also acted like this.”

Maria C. Poets

“Coincidence,” Lina said and turned to the copies of advance

reservations, which she had

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