0 0 0, 0 0 0 0 (00)

[0]

Dan Brumner, an insurance agent at Cigna in Hartford, returns to his cubicle, as if in a rush, from the direction of the break room. He looks up, but just below the camera. He pauses for a moment, thinking. He grabs something from under his desk. The camera zooms quickly then recenters itself on the object as Dan places it on top of his telephone before placing it on his lap. It is an empty briefcase. He grabs some papers and absent-mindedly shovels them inside. He stops and lets the briefcase fall onto the floor. It lands on its side. A few papers fall out.

Dan sits still for almost four seconds. He begins slouching. He is facing down. Suddenly, he is seized with purpose and reaches for the phone. He dials hurriedly. He waits for an answer. He says something, then looks puzzled. Suddenly, he is visibly confused and paranoid. He looks up again, now staring directly at the camera, which pans out as if it is pretending to be looking at something else. Dan looks at the phone again. Then he appears to hear something and puts it back up to his ear. He listens again for a few seconds. Suddenly, he slams the phone back into its cradle and runs away from his desk. The camera tries to follow, but is restricted.

The call was recorded. We hear Dan unknowingly dial five and six at the same time when he only means to press six. The phone rings twice, then is picked up in the middle of the third ring. There is silence for about a second and a half.

Dan speaks into the phone. “Hello?” His voice echoes a moment after he speaks. This is the moment in the surveillance tape at which he removes the receiver from his ear and looks at it, then holds it closer. The phone rings again. Dan is confused and a little frightened. He looks up again, focusing on the camera, then down again at the phone. His breathing is barely audible over the tape hiss of the recording. Suddenly, the phone rings again and there is a loud click, as if someone on the other side is simulating the answering of a phone. There is silence again, then another click and the hiss barely increases in volume. A few tenths of a decibel.

It is a woman’s voice. A recording. “The number you have dialed, is out of service. T—” The hissing is noticeably louder now, as if someone has placed a needle on a record. Then, a man’s voice, but the sound is wrong. Muffled, certain frequencies missing, as if the phone were being held inside the mouth of the person speaking. He speaks with exaggerated pauses, as if he were a person trying too hard to sound like a recording. “For assistance, please dial zero.” Dan unmistakably gasps and slams the phone on the receiver. The same man’s voice, “That—” and then the recording ends with a tearing sound, as if the tape had to be ripped apart to be erased.