AfterNet 01 - Good Cop Dead Cop

but he couldn’t recall the tune. This time of year all he really wanted were Christmas carols and even that was denied him. So he started talking to Yamaguchi.
    “The fat guy on your right is already snoring. You should shove him in the ribs to wake him.” And, “Whoa, really bad toupee on the black guy two rows down. You can see the seam.” And, “My those are perky breasts on the blonde with the bassoon. You can see them bounce from here.”
    Finally, she turned to where Munroe was sitting and with unerring accuracy looked at him. She mouthed the words, “Shut up” and with a deliberate motion, removed her ear buds and put them in her purse, then returned her attention to the music.
    Munroe was reminded of being in church when he was a kid: a lot of adults acting very pious and he feeling very bored and mischievous.
    If we had a portable terminal with Internet access, I could be doing something, he thought. Maybe there’s a terminal downstairs in the lobby. Munroe’s mind wandered randomly while he scanned the faces of the audience. He moved closer to observe the bad toupee. He thought of going down to the stage and observing the perky breasts first hand but wasn’t sure how long he had until intermission. He moved up to the edge of their platform and tried to peer over, but despite being dead he still kept his low-level fear of heights. If I fall, I’ll just bounce. Still, it’ll be unpleasant. Yes, but better than sitting through this. She’ll never even know I left. I wonder how far I could fall. Well, they say we’re invulnerable to just about anything. Yes, but it’s that just about bit. Not like I’m exactly enjoying being this kind of dead, maybe there’s another kind of dead. Yeah, but you like Linda, don’t you. Well, yes. And being a cop, that’s what you said was the only thing you were good for, isn’t it? You got that going for you. And your health? That’s right, your health is …
    The house lights came up and the audience applauded.
    Thank God, intermission.
    “I’m sorry, I was just bored. Really, do you have any idea how boring a concert is when you can’t hear anything?” Munroe was essentially talking to himself, although his remarks were addressed to Yamaguchi, who could ignore him because she had not replaced her ear buds.
    They had returned to the lobby during intermission and she was standing in the ridiculously long line to buy a glass of wine at the bar. There were six people ahead of her.
    “At this rate you’re only going to have three minutes to drink it, you know.” She continued staring straight ahead.
    “All right, this is getting ridiculous. If you can’t take a joke, then that’s just your fault, Yamaguchi. If your anal little mind can’t find the humor in a situation then you can just stick it up your …”
    That’s when Munroe noticed the smile that had been creeping onto her face, and at the same time she lifted her right hand to push back her hair and reveal the ear buds.
    “Oh, you little bitch. How long have you been listening to me?”
    “Since left seat,” she told him. She was again accessing the field directly and not speaking aloud. “Amuse yuorself until concert ends 30 mins. Meet u back by coat check, OK?”
    So she’s still mad, but I’m forgiven. “OK, enjoy yourself.”
    The line moved forward. “I plan to,” she said.
    Munroe left the bar and lobby and headed toward the exits. He hadn’t found a terminal. There’s a Starbucks a block away. Let’s see if they have a terminal. As he left the auditorium he saw the clock in the main gallery of the performing arts center. OK, I have forty-five minutes, enough time to check my email.
    Munroe was back in thirty minutes. He had checked his email in that time and also sent a message to AfterNet security, to make sure that Rebecca Thompson had notified them that her son was missing. It also gave him time to check the scores at ESPN and read yet another analysis of why the Seahawks would almost certainly lose against the mighty Denver Broncos offense and why he would almost certainly lose his bet with the stiff in Detroit who had egged him into putting his money where his mouth was.
    Time to check out the perky blonde, he thought to himself, and waited until he saw someone sneak out of the men’s room. He followed the man and re-entered the concert hall behind him. He worked his way down the orchestra level and then up onto the stage.
    His view of the orchestra and the entire