gray, and humid. “But our main question is whether or not he had
anything to do with Birkner’s murder.”
Max shrugged. “I don’t see why he should have anything against
Philip Birkner. And other than referring to his girlfriend in the past tense . . . I have to say, I didn’t even notice that. You’re a keen listener.”
Lina grinned. “Well, I’m rather more talented in language usage
than in math.”
When Katja Ansmann opened the door and saw Lina, she pressed her
lips together but remained polite otherwise. In a low voice—Leon was asleep—she asked the two detectives to come in and follow her to the living room.
Lina controlled herself at first and just listened. That gave her a
chance to calmly observe Katja Ansmann. She was wearing comfort-
able, wide-leg trousers today and a blouse and sandals. Her makeup
was as perfect as last time, but there were dark circles under her eyes which even makeup couldn’t hide. Lina noticed that the quasi widow
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seemed more agitated than during the previous visits, resembling a
grieving spouse more than before. She looked at Lina every now and
then as if asking herself what in the world this woman was doing on
her sofa.
“Frau Ansmann, we still have a few questions about Herr Birkner,
especially about his past,” Max said. “A former girlfriend of his was murdered shortly after he graduated from high school. Do you know
anything about that?”
Katja Ansmann was frowning pensively. Though the woman wasn’t
much older than she, Lina detected signs of aging for the first time: little, faint wrinkles at the corners of her eyes and a tired expression around the mouth. “No, sorry. He never told me anything about that.”
“He never told you about a girl he was in school with who was
murdered?” Max’s voice was as calm as before. “That surprises me.”
“Philip never talked much about his past. He was very much about
living in the present.” She shrugged. “Maybe he was suppressing it.”
Lina scrutinized Katja Ansmann suspiciously. He didn’t talk much
about the past? That might be true for acquaintances he wouldn’t tell his life story to right away, but his partner, the mother of his son? Lina asked herself how open the relationship between the two had actually been—was it maybe so open that it bordered on indifferent?
“Do you know Daniel Vogler?” Max asked.
Katja Ansmann seemed to be thinking. “Daniel Vogler . . . ,” she
said slowly. “I’ve heard the name. Could you refresh my memory?”
“A former employee of your partner, at Inoware.”
“Oh yes, the second software developer of his company. I remem-
ber. A very intelligent man, but his social skills were somewhat
underdeveloped.”
“Could you explain that?”
“Good communication skills and the ability to work in a team are
indispensable if you want to survive in today’s job market. If you’re unable to empathize with others or adjust to a group, you’ll be in
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trouble. Herr Vogler is what’s usually called a lone wolf. He always came up with solutions, absolutely creative solutions, all by himself, without considering his colleagues at all.” She allowed herself a little smile. “When he was questioned about that once, he declared that he
didn’t feel like wasting time explaining the times tables to a bunch of jerks.”
“Did the term jerks include Herr Birkner?”
Katja Ansmann’s smile disappeared. “Yes, I would think so.”
“Did you know that Herr Birkner and Herr Vogler attended the
same school and graduated the same year?” Max asked.
Katja Ansmann said in a tired voice, “No, I didn’t know that.”
She knows damn little about her dead partner, Lina thought. Or maybe she knew Daniel Vogler better than she was willing to admit.
Maybe the mathematician was behind the data theft and Katja
Ansmann had collaborated with him. “Were you in contact with Herr
Vogler after the bankruptcy of Inoware?” Lina asked.
“No. I never saw him after I was done with my consulting job for
the company, which was about nine months before the insolvency.”
“Is it only a coincidence,” Lina asked, “that Markman Solutions,
the company that profited from the mistake in programming made by
your partner’s firm, made payments to you after the data theft?” Out of the corner of her eye, Lina saw that Max shot her a warning glance, but she ignored it.
Katja Ansmann looked at her silently for a moment. “I don’t know
what you’re trying to insinuate, but if that company employed me
as a consultant, we can certainly assume that I received a fee for my services.”
Before Max could open his mouth, Lina leaned forward and said in
a low voice, “But I don’t believe that it was by accident, Frau Ansmann.
I also don’t believe it’s a coincidence that