Hanno let himself fall into his chair. One could see that the devel-
opment did not please him. One suspect was dead and the second
one was definitely not involved in her death. Niels Hinrichsen still lay heavily sedated in the psychiatric ward. That left the unknown third person, male or female.
“Do you know when she died?” he asked Andreas, who pulled up
a chair and sat down.
“Sotny doesn’t want to be pinned down,” Andreas said, “but her
death most likely occurred more than twenty-four hours ago.” The
dead woman had been found at six in the morning, so when she was
supposed to come in for questioning the day before, she was no longer alive.
“What other evidence did you find?”
Andreas shrugged. “Forensics is still out there, cursing and swear-
ing. They’re collecting everything they can find, which means tons of garbage.” Ninety-nine percent of it had nothing to do with the murder. Jenisch Park was a public recreation area in the west of Hamburg, almost 104 acres and heavily traveled—a horror for the forensics team.
On top of that, it had rained all day the day before, not very helpful 211
Maria C. Poets
when looking for tracks. “So far, we haven’t found any ID, a wallet, or a cell phone.”
Hanno told him that the phone was already in the forensics lab.
“It’s doubtful that she went and got another one Tuesday night, but
maybe she had an old one in a drawer at home.”
Lina shook her head. “As far as I recall, her cell phone was rather
old. I don’t think she could even take pictures with it.” It didn’t seem that Franziska Leyhausen had been up to date with technology.
“Why were you looking for her in the first place?” Andreas asked,
and Brita Michaelis gave him a summary of the Birkner murder case
and the status of the investigation.
“But how does Leyhausen’s death fit into all that?” Sebastian asked.
“If she killed Birkner . . .”
“I think that’s highly unlikely,” Lina said. “But she might have seen the killer.”
“Then why didn’t she say anything when we questioned her?” Alex
objected.
“Because she knew him and wanted to protect him?” Hanno
suggested.
“Daniel Vogler,” Alex said slowly. “He knew both Philip Birkner
and Franziska Leyhausen. And he knew that Leyhausen would be in
Niendorf Thursday night. She had told him about the concert.”
“And he lives in Großflottbek, quite close to Jenisch Park,” Lina
added.
Brita Michaelis frowned. “Why don’t we grill this gentleman? Alex
and Andreas, you are the liaisons between the two teams. Find out
where Vogler is and bring him in. The rest of you go after the old murder case. Dig up old friends and classmates. Question former teachers and the victim’s family. Above all, find out how Vogler and Birkner got along back then.”
212
Dead Woods
Lina plopped down on her chair and sighed. “The poor woman,” she
said softly. It doesn’t happen often that an investigator meets a murder victim while she’s still alive. That’s why this case got to her. Two days ago, Franziska had sat here in front of her and allowed glimpses into her life—though not voluntarily. And now she was dead. Lina even
felt the impulse that she had only witnessed in others so far when they heard about the death of a person they knew. “It can’t be. She was alive only two days ago.”
Max sat silently at his desk, with his eyes closed. Lina watched him curiously since she rarely had the chance to look at him that openly.
He had a smooth forehead, a well-proportioned nose, and short dark
hair, and she knew that the eyes behind his closed eyelids were brown.
His face was slightly tanned, and he had tiny laugh lines around the eyes and a dimple on his chin. His lips were full and soft, and out of the blue Lina asked herself how it would be to kiss them. She quickly turned away as if caught, and started to look for the names and telephone numbers of previous witnesses.
She had entered the first name—Christian Bischoff—into the
computer to check the current address, when Max moved again.
“How about paying Lukas Birkner a visit?” he asked.
Lina looked puzzled. Why didn’t she think of that? “Let’s do it,”
she said, grabbing her knapsack.
The little storefront office was closed and the rooms behind the large windows were dark. A handwritten sign was displayed in the window.
“Closed due to a death in the family.”
“Let’s try them at home,” Lina suggested.
Since the sun was shining, a not-very-common occurrence this
summer, they walked the short distance. The apartment was near
the office, in a building from the 1980s. Frau Birkner’s voice on the 213