almost apologetic. “And I used the opportunity to catch up with what has accumulated while we were on vacation. If you’re
125
Maria C. Poets
self-employed, nobody cares if you have a death in the family.” She
seemed to recognize that she was whining because she straightened and said, “Maybe I can be of some help. I’m Sonja Birkner, Lukas’s wife.”
Lina felt sorry for her. A murder in the family, in the middle of
your vacation. On the other hand, was there ever a time when murder
fit into your schedule?
“Maybe you can. May I?” Lina asked and, after a quick nod, sat
down in one of the chairs in front of the desk. She took out her notebook. The woman across from her had a pleasant face. Her mouth was
possibly a touch too large and her eyes had an inconspicuous color,
somewhere between brown and blue. “Did you know your deceased
brother-in-law well?”
Sonja Birkner leaned back in her chair. Since she had her hands in
her lap, Lina couldn’t see them. “Well, the way you know a brother-in-law.” She was on her guard now.
“How long have you known him? Or rather, how long have you
known your husband?”
“Forever. We went to school together, to high school.”
“So you’ve known both Birkners for a long time.”
“Well, actually, just Lukas. I was in the same class as he. Philip
was one year above us and I hardly had anything to do with him. And
I only started dating Lukas in our last year, when Philip was already gone.”
“Gone . . . You mean when he wasn’t in school anymore?”
The woman nodded. Her hands were now folded on the desk, in
front of the keyboard.
“Wasn’t there a death . . .” Lina leafed through her notes. “. . . Julia Munz?”
Nodding again. “Yes, though I don’t know anything about it. We
were in the same class, Julia and I, but we weren’t friends.”
“Is it true that Julia and Philip were once an item?”
126
Dead Woods
“Yes, for quite a long time, in fact, even though they often sepa-
rated and even were in other relationships.” She shrugged. “They were one of those couples who can’t live together but also can’t live apart.”
“But they weren’t together at the end, were they?”
“No.” Frau Birkner huffed a little. “Philip had something going
with another girl, yet again, and this time Julia dumped him, shortly before the exit exams.” With a disapproving look she added, “Not that she was any better, if you know what I mean.” Sonja Birkner bit her
lower lip as if she had already said too much.
“Julia Munz was killed after a party. Were you at the party, too?”
Frau Birkner shook her head. “We were in a few classes together,
but we weren’t friends.” She hesitated. “We belonged to different
cliques that had little to do with each other. Julia was often hanging out with people who were two or three years older than us.” She added with a shrug, “You know how it is.”
Lina could hear suppressed envy underneath the apparent indiffer-
ence. She was willing to bet that Sonja Birkner—at the time she must have had a different name—would have loved to belong to the clique
of Julia and Philip. Yet Lina decided to let it go.
“Did your husband and Philip have a good relationship?”
Sonja Birkner hesitated, for only a brief moment, but it was notice-
able. “Yes.”
Lina smiled at her, but the suspicious look remained on Sonja
Birkner’s face. “How about you? Did you get along with your
brother-in-law?”
“Yes.” Sonja Birkner picked up a pen from the desk and put it in a
cup with some others.
“He was apparently a very charming man,” Lina said, watching
the woman.
“Yes, he could be quite nice.” Sonja Birkner still didn’t look at her.
“Could he also be different? Not nice?”
127
Maria C. Poets
Philip Birkner’s sister-in-law drew a deep breath and looked at
Lina. “I don’t know where you’re going with this. He was my brother-
in-law, period. We saw each other every now and then, at family cel-
ebrations and similar stuff, but on the whole I had little contact with him.” She demonstratively focused on the screen in front of her. Her right hand moved toward the mouse, and then held on to it as if it were lending her support.
Lina smiled again, even though Frau Birkner still avoided her gaze.
“Could you possibly give me names of friends . . . or girlfriends of Philip Birkner?”
“No,” the woman said. “As I already told you . . .” She looked up
and Lina didn’t find out what she had already said. Instead, she heard the entrance door open behind her. She turned around and saw a man