doubtful look. “Couldn’t it be that he simply wants
to get to know you better?”
Lina shook her head. “No. Meinhart Steinhagen does nothing
without an ulterior motive.” She looked away. It was only a few years ago that her mother shared with her what she hadn’t told a soul before.
When she had slept with the man whom she only knew as Marc for the
third time, she had told him about the plans to occupy a specific house.
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It was a beautiful Hamburg Jugendstil building near the harbor. The
action was planned for the morning after the next day and only those immediately involved and a few supporters knew about it, but maybe
he’d like to be there. He could come by during the day, once they were inside and had secured the doors and windows.
When the squatters tried to enter the old house two days later
at two in the morning, they were greeted by a bunch of construction
workers, who threatened them with shovels and sticks. They decided
on a strategic retreat. Outside they ran into policemen, who took them in and released them only toward evening. The house that fell victim to a wrecking ball a few days later belonged to Albert Steinhagen, Marc’s, or rather Meinhart’s, father.
“So the question is: Why did he tell me about the threatened insol-
vency of the Ansmann Bank?” Lina continued.
A young woman came to their table to clear the dirty dishes. She
asked whether they wanted anything else, but both shook their heads.
The sky was still shrouded in clouds, but at least the rain had
stopped by the time they walked back to the car. “My father only told me about the looming bankruptcy because he thought it would be an
advantage to him. He never before talked about business matters with me.”
“Maybe he speculated that the press would find out about the
threatened bankruptcy through you,” Max said pensively. “That would
worsen the situation for the bank, its value would drop even further, and Meinhart Steinhagen could possibly make a killing.”
With a bitter laugh, Lina said, “And then he’d offer the position of general manager to his good friend Johannes Ansmann.” But then she
shook her head. “No, to leak such explosive news, he doesn’t need me, for sure. He must have cronies to whom he could drop discreet hints
about the matter.”
They arrived at the car and looked at each other over the top.
Lina had to stand on her toes to see Max. “I’ve been wracking my
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brain since that call. What does it mean and what does he want from
me? He must realize that we would have found out about the bank-
ruptcy sooner or later, at the very latest when it becomes official. No, Meinhart Steinhagen had something else in mind.” She hit the hood
with her hand. “Damn it, I just can’t guess what!”
The entire team spent the rest of the day gathering every possible bit of information about Franziska Leyhausen and her possible whereabouts.
Alex and Sebastian had found her passport in her apartment, but her
identity card, wallet, and keys were missing. It couldn’t be determined whether the woman, who had become the prime suspect, had packed
clothes for a few days. Alex said that the wardrobe didn’t seem emptied.
They had found an address book and had copied down the saved num-
bers in Leyhausen’s phone. Her cell phone, which Niels Hinrichsen had stomped on the day before, was still in the forensics lab. Everyone was now calling her friends and acquaintances, many of whom stated that
they hadn’t heard from her in ages. One man couldn’t even remember
the name until Max jogged his memory by mentioning that she was a
biologist and was possibly politically active. That switched on a light, but the man, who sounded very indifferent, claimed that he had only
briefly met Franziska Leyhausen five years ago and had heard nothing from her since. He was surprised she had kept his number.
In the memory of her landline phone, they found the number of
Barbara Schönbek, most likely the friend who had also been at the
concert at the Waldschänke on Thursday. Alex had called right away,
but only reached the answering machine of a natural healing clinic. He had left a message and phone number and requested to be called back.
Alex and Sebastian were in the cafeteria when Barbara Schönbek called, so Lina answered. She introduced herself and asked straightforwardly whether she knew where Franziska Leyhausen was at the moment.
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“No. No idea. All I know is that she wanted to go to the police this morning . . . Or rather, she had to go.”