22:59

21:49

Roger had finished looking through the reports and videos when the windows in the building across the street had long gone out. Medicol took care of the health of its employees and forbade them to be at work after 22:00. So the phone rang on Roger's desk.

"Mister Stone."

"Yes, I'm listening."

"This is a call from security. Are you still in the office?"

Roger felt annoyed, where else could he be since they were calling the landline.

"I am already coming down."

"Okay. If you come down in ten minutes, we won't be filing a report."

Roger hung up and groaned. He put his head down on his hands which were folded on the table, then stood up abruptly, grabbed his cell phone which had been switched to silent mode since the moment he learned about the accident, and left the office.

He needed to think, but, obviously, he would have to do it elsewhere.

As he left the building, Roger nodded to the guard, tapping his index finger on his watch. The guard frowned and turned away, pretending to be looking at something on the monitor.

Once in the fresh air, Roger breathed in the pleasant coolness of a summer day, put his hands in his pockets and looked around. Buildings on both sides of the street were already dark giants, reflecting with their glass sides the lights of the rare passing car. At this time of the day the financial district was dying out, all of the office plankton were either at home or in a nearby café.

As Roger wondered where to go, the door behind him opened.

"Mister Stone?"

Roger turned and looked in surprise at the guard standing in the doorway.

"Your car is still in the parking lot."

"Thanks I know."

The guard looked at him searchingly, frowning and shaking his head slightly.

"You can't come back for it later, sir."

"Thanks, I know," Roger continued to play on the guard's nerves.

"But..."

Roger sighed, tired of it. He needed to think and this guy who stuck too much to the rules was only getting in his way.

"I'll take a taxi. Thanks... " He narrowed his eyes, trying to see the name on the badge in the streetlight, "Roger."

The guard nodded and disappeared through the doorway. Roger felt ashamed at his own behavior. Who, if not he, understood what responsibility was. He sighed again, took a deep breath, and turned right.

Reaching the familiar doors of Jack's Café, Roger raised his head and looked upstairs, trying to see the upper floor, drowning in the darkness of the night. He shuddered, as if from a sudden gust of wind and opened the door.

"Good evening, sir."

Jack's was as dark inside as it was outside, and the tables were almost not visible, almost entirely occupied by resting office workers. Some visitors, in spite of being in large groups, ate completely in silence. Others read the news feeds on their smartphones, not even looking at what they were putting into their mouths and not tasting the food. One group of very young guys and gals was laughing loudly. Roger thought he saw one of his Offenders among them who waved at him when he caught his gaze.

"Can I go upstairs?"

"Uh... You know... An unpleasant event happened there today... The scene is still fenced off with police tape," the administrator muttered apologetically.