TATORT FOUR - 1

TATORT FOUR.

I

He checks his wristwatch, 12:29 PM it says. Then confirms this with the clock, dark red in color, a match. In synch they continue to tick getting faster and faster as he thinks about it. Lee pushes away from the table, lights himself a cigarette and peeks around the lunch room. Rows of high tables and green plastic stools, an empty water dispenser and stacks of boxes stare back at him. The clock although, seems to have a degree of omniscience to it. He shrugs this off and paces the room: scrutinizing the clock as he does. Except the stench of stale coffee beans; the only tangible presence is of those outside on looking the parade, chanting at the procession as Lee continues to lurk around the second floor.

Their roar gets louder and fades. No noise now except for the ticking of that goddamn clock. He drops his cigarette, does the twist on it and invites himself to sit back down. He lights another and rubs his temples, burning with questions... Where the fuck are they?... Flitting with wild dangerous eyes, petrified, he peers round to the company phone in the corner. HeT.

They should’ve called. Did they forget? Have they gone on without me? Fuck. Keep calm. Give it two minutes and leave. They’ll call later, you know they will.

A clang. The sound of rushing. Bodies charging down the stairs. About time! Lee charges out sliding through a breach onto the staircase. Three removal guys in overalls fly past: not giving him a second glance. He curses, mopping back his unkempt hair trembling, and turns on his heel. He squeezes back through and snorts.

‘12:31 PM’ the clock laughs. ‘They’re not coming for you’.

Wham - The door – tall guy in black seizes him .38 to the gut. Bared tobacco teeth and sweat.

‘No!’ a voice cries out. ‘Not him. He works here.’

The guy inspects Lee, his high forehead, hard nose, substantial ears and similarly round features. A-OK. The assailant, a brutish cop with nostrils flaring tilts his cap and follows the voice to the next floor.

Lee remains still, swallows, then, checking the clock again, 12:32PM, fetches his jacket and leaves through a door marked by a funereal green exit sign.