AfterNet 01 - Good Cop Dead Cop

Yamaguchi and Munroe found themselves closeted with the prosecution over a working lunch. After lunch, the defense attorney continued his cross-examination of Munroe. Although he gave up his privacy defense, he still tried his death of a thousand cuts, finding a discrepancy in one of the dates in Munroe’s report versus Yamaguchi’s and Munroe’s statement that the money was in a brown envelope when the fraud detectives described it as gray.
    They were finally released about 3:30 and went back to the department. Yamaguchi had been at the courthouse since 8 a.m. and was dead tired. Munroe, however, was aching to get online. Munroe replied to Rybold, saying he and Yamaguchi would be attending his party. Yamaguchi tried to reconnect with the minister and reschedule their interview. Then they worked on disembodied witness reports.
    About 5 p.m., Yamaguchi got a phone call back from the minister and they arranged to meet at the church.
    — & —
    Edwards tapped his pen nervously on the desk, waiting for the phone call. His report would be disappointing, he knew, and he racked his brain trying to come up with some way to color it to his favor.
    He answered the call on its first ring.
    “Hello, Edwards,” he said. “Yes sir. No, I’m afraid the results aren’t as promising as I’d hoped. But I … oh, thank you sir. Yes, I’d already said 5,000 would be needed to be statistically meaningful. Right now, 3,500. I do agree.” He nodded his head several times agreeing. “You will? That would be … that would be great.” More nods, then, “Yes, yes I will. Goodbye.”
    He hung up the phone, feeling dazed but happy.
    “Well, what did he say?” his assistant asked. The younger man had been listening to the one-sided conversation and was on the edge of his seat.
    “He agreed. He said he knew our sample would be too small and he gave us the go ahead for another collection.”
    “You’re off the hook?”
    “We’re off the hook. Yes, he said he understood. He was very nice about it.”
    “Even though we missed the target …”
    “Yes, even though we missed our target.” Edwards sat up straighter in his chair and looked disapprovingly at his assistant. “He knows the limitations we’re working under. We’re not the ones who came up with the suitability estimates, you know, so I wouldn’t want to be in that group’s shoes. But we’re OK. He even said to say hello to you.”
    “He … uh … he knows who I am?”
    “Yes, he does.”
    “Don’t know if I like that.”
    “Don’t worry. Let’s get back to work. We’ve got a lot more units that have to come online in the New Year.”
    — & —
    Yamaguchi and Munroe parked on the street next to the church in the Five Points region of Denver. They got out of their car and walked to the church. It was quite dark and she was scanning the neighborhood automatically, the way she used to when she patrolled the area years ago.
    “I bet they have some good barbecue here.”
    “Oh please, Alex, that is such a racist thing …”
    “Hey, there’s a restaurant right there, 9 o’clock.”
    She looked and there was indeed a barbecue restaurant cater-corner to the church.
    “Oh, I’m sorry Alex. I guess I overreacted.”
    “You know I’m not that bad.”
    “No, I know you’re not. I’m overcompensating.” They had reached the main doors of the church, but saw a sign labeled “Office” that pointed to the side of the building. They followed the sign.
    “I used to patrol here. It’s historically a black neighborhood and it’s high crime, especially after the afterlife. So it’s easy for some cops …”
    “Yeah, I know. It looks like a nice neighborhood.”
    They came to the office door. A sign hanging below a peephole said to knock and she did. They soon heard someone fumbling with locks. The door opened and a short black man opened the door. He was dressed in black pants and shirt, but wore a dark red cardigan sweater. His clerical collar identified him as the minister.
    “Rev. Anderson? I’m Officer Yamaguchi.” She held out her hand and he immediately clasped it with both his hands.
    “Come in, officer.”
    After relocking the doors, he led them into his office, which was cramped, and lined with bookshelves and plastered with the motivational type posters she recognized from the police station. Except …
    “Wow, de-motivators,” she said.
    The minister laughed. “You like these? They’re hysterical. I really like this one.”
    He