your partner died at the exact moment when you could really use the money from his life insurance
to help with your father’s threatened bankruptcy.”
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Maria C. Poets
Katja Ansmann scrutinized her coolly. “Did your father tell you
that?”
Lina couldn’t breathe for a moment. How did this woman know
who her father was?
Katja Ansmann smiled. “So it’s true. It’s the only explanation, since nobody but my family and your father were aware of the situation.”
Max was looking from one woman to the other as though wonder-
ing in what movie he had landed. Neither Lina nor Frau Ansmann paid
any attention to him.
Lina felt dizzy and, in a strange way, exposed. She realized to her
dismay that she and Katja Ansmann were at a standoff: each of them
knew something that the other was more than reluctant to share. They measured each other in silence, bound together by their secrets and
asking themselves whether they could trust each other. Lina noticed
only now that Katja Ansmann’s eyes, which rested on hers sternly, were gray.
The management consultant finally broke the silence. “As you
probably know, you quite closely resemble your half sister, Johanna.”
She sighed. “You father just happened to be there when my father told us that the Ansmann & Son Bank might go under. The family is, of course, doing everything to avoid bankruptcy. But,” she added with a thin-lipped smile, “I can assure you that we don’t consider murder an option.” She gave Lina a slightly amused look. “Besides, we’re talking about substantially higher sums than the three million from the life insurance. I thought even you would realize that.”
It took Lina’s breath away. Her ears were ringing. This arrogant
bitch and her condescending grin! She clenched her fists, one more
word from this woman and she’d snap, she’d beat her up, she’d show
her what she thought of her—this rich cow who felt nothing but con-
tempt for people like herself, this, this . . .
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Dead Woods
“I do believe that Frau Svenson knows that,” Max said just then in
a calm voice. “It’s rather a question of whether the money might come in handy for you personally.”
Lina forced herself to breathe in deeply and then slowly exhale.
She relaxed her cramped fingers and listened to Max’s voice, which, as always, had a soothing effect on everyone present. “Your management
consulting firm is a daughter company of the Ansmann & Son Bank, and so you would be directly affected by a bankruptcy.” He nodded
slowly, while Katja Ansmann turned her head away and looked out the
window. It had started to rain again. “I understand your fear of losing all of this”—the sweep of his hand encompassed not only the apartment but an entire lifestyle—“but I’m sure you’ll understand that we have to investigate every suspicious fact.”
Katja Ansmann had turned pale, but she sat up with a very straight
back and jutted out her chin. It was obvious that the conversation made her uncomfortable, especially Max’s softly spoken words, his matter-of-fact talk about her fear, as if there were absolutely no doubt that it existed. It was quiet in the room. The only sound was the soft breathing of three people. Finally, Katja Ansmann turned to Max again, ignoring Lina. “You’re right. It’s difficult for me to imagine giving up what I’m used to, what I cherish. And yes, the insurance money could prevent
the worst. But,” she raised her voice and looked directly at him, “I assure you that I had nothing to do with Philip’s death. I spent the entire evening with my friend Evelyn Riemann, who would, of course,
testify to that in court.”
She can testify as much as she wants, Lina thought, but that doesn’t negate the theory of a possible contract killing. She could feel rage rising inside her again. She had to leave this place—now—or who knew
what might happen. She got up, looked at Max, and ignored Katja
Ansmann, the same way she had been ignored by her before. “Do you
have additional questions?” she asked her colleague, who obligingly
shook his head and got up, as well.
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Maria C. Poets
Almost out the door, she couldn’t help herself and turned to Katja
Ansmann again, scrutinizing her from top to bottom. “You may, of
course, again lodge a complaint with the chief of police, but it will not influence our investigations.”
She never saw Katja Ansmann’s puzzled look.
It drizzled outside and Max opened his umbrella.
“The arrogant bitch!” Lina cursed, stomping ahead of him.
“Lina . . .” Max almost had to run to catch up with her.
“And I don’t buy it that she’s no longer in contact with Daniel