Five by Ursula P Archer

continue.’
    She could see from his face that he was trying to compose himself. ‘We were halfway through the main course when her mobile rang. She took it out from her handbag and made some jokey comment about her husband. Then she said something like, “Oh, it’s not him,” and answered it. We carried on talking, of course, so I don’t know what she was speaking to the caller about, but after a few seconds she got up and went off towards the toilets with her phone.’
    ‘As if she didn’t want anyone at the table to hear her conversation?’ Beatrice interrupted.
    ‘Yes. Or perhaps it was just too loud and she wanted to find somewhere quieter to talk. That was the impression I had, at least. But if I’m honest I wasn’t really paying that much attention to Nora at the time.’
    The telephone conversation. She glanced questioningly at Stefan. He understood at once and, in a barely perceptible movement, shook his head. That meant the list of Nora’s phone conversations which they had requested from the provider hadn’t arrived yet.
    ‘She wasn’t on the phone for that long,’ continued Winstatt. ‘Three, maybe four minutes. Then she came back to the table.’
    ‘Did she carry on eating?’
    Winstatt shrugged his shoulders apologetically. ‘I’m not sure, sorry. Probably. But then she left about twenty minutes later. She said she was heading back home, that she had a headache.’
    That corresponded to what Beatrice had found out from Konrad Papenberg.
    ‘When she left the restaurant – was she alone, or did anyone else leave at the same time?’
    This time, Winstatt shook his head decisively. ‘She was definitely alone. It wasn’t much later than half-nine, and we tried to convince her to stay, but she didn’t want to. She looked pretty exhausted too, so I don’t think she was feeling very well.’
    ‘Okay. Thank you. Right, so I’d like to speak with …’ She glanced at her notes. ‘Rosa Drabcek next. And also see the pictures on her camera if I can.’
    Rosa Drabcek wasn’t a secretary but an executive assistant, as she emphasised right at the start of the conversation. Stefan, who had unwittingly stuck his foot in it by mentioning the word ‘secretary’ as they introduced themselves, nodded guiltily. Beatrice, on the other hand, only had eyes for the camera, the small, metallic blue device that was resting in Drabcek’s hands.
    ‘I haven’t yet downloaded the pictures from the meal,’ she said apologetically, ‘but the display is quite big, so you should be able to see everything well enough.’ She turned the camera on, activated the viewing mode and handed it to Beatrice. ‘I took quite a lot of pictures, but I hope they can be of help in some way.’
    Hohensalzburg Castle, illuminated at night, was captured in at least ten images. There was a wonderful view from the restaurant over to the mountain and castle, and it was clear that the executive assistant hadn’t been able to get enough of it.
    Next, the table, smartly set and still free of guests, plates and mess. Four photos. Winstatt, standing behind a chair with his head turned to the side. Then the castle again.
    ‘The camera takes good pictures, don’t you think?’ commented Drabcek.
    Sure, if you looked beyond the nondescript subject matter … Beatrice clicked on impatiently to the next photo, and the next – there was nothing she could use here. But they would still copy all the photos to a memory stick to be sure.
    Beatrice looked up. ‘Do you mind me asking why you took so many pictures? You must have hardly had time to eat.’
    A shy smile. ‘It’s a new camera. I wanted to see what it can do. I really love photography, you know.’
    Finally, some pictures of people. A young woman with an updo, wearing a short electric blue dress. A man with glasses and an expensive-looking suit – if Beatrice’s memory served her correctly, he was sitting outside right now, waiting to be questioned.
    Then, right at the end,