sheet of paper in front of him. “Now, what have we got so far?”
Max summarized what clues had been found at the scene of the crime. Philip Birkner had lived thirty-four years. He died the previous night between eleven and three, most likely from a head wound caused by a blow with a blunt instrument. An abundance of different footprints had been noted at the scene of the crime. The rinsed and replanted plant was something neither he nor his colleagues could explain.
“Could it have been gang related?” Sebastian asked, concentrating on the most obvious clue: the many footprints.
“It’s possible, but neither money nor IDs were missing,” said Max.
“If all they wanted was to whack someone, money was of no interest to them,” commented Hanno. “They wanted to have their fun and Birkner crossed their path by accident.”
“Out there, in the woods?” asked Lina. “The spot where we found the body is pretty far from any subway station. Besides,” she added quickly before anyone could say anything, “he probably wasn’t alone.” She told them what she had found out at the Waldschänke and from Antje Niemann.
“This might be the woman he called shortly before the concert began,” Max said and told them about the number on Birkner’s call list that he had used quite often. “I’ve tried to reach her, but so far I’ve only gotten her voice mail. The number is registered to a Tanja Fischer, but nobody was home at the address in Eimsbüttel. I met a neighbor, but he’s never seen the woman.”
“It’s also possible that the returned ticket was just for show,” said Lina. “All three of the women I talked with thought Birkner and the unknown woman must have known each other. In any case, they soon got very intimate.” She took a sip of her coffee. “And at the end of the evening, both disappeared, quite inebriated, into the forest.”
“When was that?” asked Hanno.
“About half past eleven.”
“Could both of them have been attacked and only the woman escaped?” asked Sebastian.
“Why wouldn’t she call for help?” objected Max.
“Maybe she doesn’t have a cell phone,” Sebastian suggested. “There actually are people who don’t.”
“But at one point she would have been near a phone. I mean, the Niendorfer Gehege isn’t that big. And at that time, there still must have been people around.”
“Or she’s lying dead or injured somewhere in the woods and nobody has found her yet,” Lina said.
The room filled with an uncomfortable silence. “I can’t imagine that,” Max finally said. “The Niendorfer Gehege is pretty small and busy, and there’s almost no dense underbrush, at least not near the scene of the crime. If she were lying injured somewhere in the forest, she would have been found by now.”
“There remains the possibility that she lured Philip Birkner into a trap,” Hanno said, thinking out loud. “She picked him up at that bar, got him drunk, and then lured him into the forest where her accomplices waited for them.”
“And the motive?” Lina’s question echoed in the room. Nobody had an answer.
“Paid thugs? Russian mafia?” Sebastian finally speculated.
“Hm,” grunted Max.
“Why not? It’s happened before,” Sebastian continued.
“But the woman doesn’t fit in that scenario,” Lina said, backing up her colleague’s doubt. “According to the descriptions I got, the woman didn’t look like Russian mafia. More like a ‘tree-hugging chick’ as one of the servers called her.”
Hanno’s expression was pensive. “Max, you continue trying to reach this Frau Fischer. If we’re lucky, she’ll turn out to be the unknown woman. Lina, did you get the list with the advance reservations for the concert?”
Lina nodded and knew what was going to come next.
“Good, call them all. If we’re lucky, the two women are on the list. If not, maybe someone will be able to describe them accurately,” he said tartly, “or at least give a
Learning to Kill: Stories