Philip all the time, and blamed him for his being unemployed.
Can you imagine?” Lukas Birkner snorted derisively. “But over time
that calmed down.”
“Do you know any of your brother’s friends? I mean, you’re almost
the same age. Maybe you had the same circle of friends.”
“In the past, Philip had tons of acquaintances and friends, in school and later in college. You know, he was popular; everyone liked him.”
Lina rolled her eyes. “But the last two years, since the child arrived, Philip hardly had time anymore. I was practically the only one who
could lure him away every now and then. The rest of the time he just sat around at home or went on elegant dates with his Katja: opera,
theater, concerts—for that he always had time. But just to go for a beer with his brother?” Birkner paused as he seemed to notice that he was scratching at the golden image of his brother. “Not that I blame him,”
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Maria C. Poets
he added hastily. “That’s what Katja wanted, and he always did what
she wanted. He loved her.”
About an hour later, Lina was in front of the Art Nouveau build-
ing in Rothenbaum. She doubted that Katja Ansmann was home since
it was hot and everybody seemed to be outside, somewhere in a shady
spot or near the water. Driving on one of the bridges crossing the Alster in Winterhude, she had seen the crowds on the grass along the river.
She rang the bell and a moment later heard “Yes?”
“Lina Svenson, Major Crimes, Hamburg. I’d like to talk with Frau
Ansmann.”
She heard whispering followed by a loud click when the receiver of
the intercom was put down, and then the buzzer.
Today Katja Ansmann did not wear a robe, but a short, wavy
skirt and a light-colored blouse. Despite the summer clothes, and
even though she was wearing sandals, Katja Ansmann appeared to be
dressed formally. Properly. Was it because she wore her hair up? Was it the perfect makeup or the stern expression, which made her mouth no
more than a thin line?
She scrutinized Lina. The three-quarter slacks, the simple T-shirt,
the light cotton shoes, and the knapsack. “Are you alone?” Katja asked.
Lina nodded. “I have a few additional questions.”
Katja Ansmann raised an eyebrow, something Lina hated, espe-
cially when, as was the case here, the gesture implied contempt.
She could hear Leon chatter in his room, and there was another
voice, a woman’s voice. Had Frau Ansmann called the babysitter to
have some time for herself?
Katja Ansmann stepped reluctantly aside to let Lina in and led
her to the living room. A cardigan was hanging on one of the chairs, a stuffed lion was resting comfortably in a corner of the sofa, and two coffee cups stood on the table next to a glass with apple juice that showed signs of a child’s mouth. So maybe not the babysitter?
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Dead Woods
Lina sat down. “Frau Ansmann, our investigation has raised a cou-
ple of questions.” She took out her writing pad and pretended to be
looking at her notes.
“As we now know for sure, Herr Birkner did attend a concert in the
Waldschänke. Can you tell me whether it was planned from the start
that he’d go there by himself?”
Katja Ansmann sat very straight, her bare knees next to each other
and her hands on her lap. “Yes, as I already told you, I attended a lecture at the Chamber of Commerce. Work comes first for me.” A tight
smile.
“Oh yes, that lecture. What was the topic?”
“Sonja Richter, a prominent personnel manager, lectured on cor-
porate culture and social media,” Katja Ansmann said without the
slightest hesitation.
“How long did the talk last?”
“About an hour and a half. Afterward I went to a nearby bar, Tell’s, with a client I met at the lecture.”
Lina studied the woman across from her. What arrogance power
gives you, she thought: the steady gaze, a slight smile, proper posture signaling a self-confidence that nothing can shake. She seemed very relaxed for a woman whose partner had just been killed. “You’re lying,” Lina said after a brief pause.
Katja Ansmann’s cheeks got some color, but it was not clear
whether it was because she was embarrassed about having been caught
or indignant about such brash confrontation.
“The lecture was canceled on short notice.” Lina shrugged. “Too
bad.” She suppressed a grin and leaned back. “So, where were you,
really?”
Outwardly, Katja Ansmann showed almost no reaction. Her shoul-
ders did not droop, and her facial expression showed no sign of guilt.
This woman was in complete control of her emotions. She turned to
the window and was silent. Lina had to pull herself together, but she 95
Maria C. Poets
knew that pushing wouldn’t bring her anywhere right