Leyhausen’s small living room, she found nothing foreign, either. On the contrary, it was as if she stood in the apartment of a friend, so familiar was the unconventional, motley décor: the thick woolen carpet on the polished floorboards, the many tea-light candles everywhere, and the collection of books on the shelves. A closed laptop sat on a small wooden table in a corner. On the corkboard behind it, she discovered a picture postcard of a hamster sticking out its tongue at a big backhoe and saying, “Ha-ha-ha.”
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Underneath, it said in thick red letters, “No industrial parks on green meadows.” Lina couldn’t help but grin. She had heard of occasions
when the construction of commercial or industrial developments was
prevented or at least delayed by some critter or other threatened with extinction. The investors either gave up on the million-dollar projects or paid enormous amounts to relocate the cute creatures. Would a
woman for whom the survival of a little hamster meant more than
profits and employment be capable of beating a man to death? Lina
knew this was moot speculation. She knew that, basically, everyone is capable of everything. The only question is how soon someone reaches the point beyond which no other solution seems possible.
An hour later, Lina and Alex sat in the car again. As so often this
summer, thick clouds were gathering over the city. It was still dry, but more rain was predicted for the night.
“By the way, Daniel Vogler went to the same school as Philip
Birkner,” Alex said out of the blue after they had driven for some time.
“I treated myself to the Julia Munz file this morning—the murdered
classmate of Philip Birkner. I discovered Daniel Vogler among the list of witnesses. He passed his high school exit exam the same year as
Philip Birkner, even though he’s two years younger.”
“So Birkner must have put in some extra time, no?”
Alex shook his head. “No, Vogler skipped two years. But the file
doesn’t say whether Birkner and Vogler knew each other. The school,
Humboldt Gymnasium, is quite large, and more than one hundred
students graduated that year.”
“But did Vogler know the murdered girl?” Lina asked.
“At least by sight. They were neighbors, more or less.” Alex was
checking the rearview mirror. “His testimony didn’t bring much. He
was neither at the party Julia Munz attended before her death, nor did he belong to her clique. I wonder whether it relates to our case at all—
the fact that Birkner and Vogler went to the same school.”
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“It is strange, however, that we come across this Vogler again and
again,” Lina said. “He was working at the dead man’s company, he
went to the same school, and he’s a friend of a possible witness. Maybe we should look at him a little closer.”
“Well, I don’t believe that will lead anywhere,” Alex replied. “My
money’s on Leyhausen. She admits she was in the wood with Birkner,
and even owns up to beating him.”
“Kicking, not beating.”
“She probably kicked him and beat him. Birkner made advances.
Maybe he groped her even more than she let on, and then she simply
flipped out.” Alex shrugged. He slowed down in front of a traffic light.
“It could just as well have been Niels Hinrichsen,” Lina said. “He
was also in the woods at the time of the crime.”
“And what would his motive be?” Alex asked. “He didn’t even
know Birkner.”
“But he puked on this plant, the Aaron’s rod. That made Hinrichsen
mad,” Lina responded.
“And that’s why he kills Birkner? Very convincing,” Alex said
mockingly. “No judge will let us get away with that: murder in revenge for soiling a plant.”
Lina admitted that it sounded far-fetched, but Niels Hinrichsen
did live in another world and possibly worked with a different moral compass. Who knows, he might value the life of a plant just as much
as a human life.
The light changed to green and Alex accelerated. “Hanno thinks
we should find out more about that old stuff, get ahold of old wit-
nesses, friends of Birkner and Vogler, former classmates . . . To be on the safe side,” he added, though his expression indicated that for him the case was more or less solved.
Lina thought of her visit with Sonja Birkner, which she had almost
forgotten. “Then we should also speak once more with Birkner’s brother 170
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and his sister-in-law. They went to the same school as Philip and were both just one class below him. Maybe they know something.”
Max was standing in front of a utilitarian, two-story apartment building of a co-op in Lockstedt, just a few streets away from the Niendorfer Gehege. According to the entry in the