AfterNet 01 - Good Cop Dead Cop

native Coloradan, but I lived in Dublin from age 8 to 14. Sometimes I slip into it.” He said the last with the accent again. She liked it.
    “Are you on duty?”
    “Well, I don’t normally dress like this for Christmas Eve.” He looked a little crestfallen at her rebuke and she regretted it. “But I’m on break now. I’m not just wasting the taxpayers’ money.” He rallied at her offer of continued conversation.
    “So why are you here? Tonight’s mostly for the disembodied.”
    “Well, you’re alive. Why don’t you tell me why you’re here?”
    “No, you first.”
    “My partner’s dead. He’s downstairs talking jazz.”
    “Oh, yeah, I peeked in on that. Kind of … well, you know, jazz heads.”
    She grinned and nodded.
    “Oh, so you’re that cop,” he said. Damn! she thought, he’s seen me on the news. “I mean he’s that cop. Yeah, I remembering reading about it when he was hired. And you work with him?”
    She relaxed and said, “Yup. So, what are you doing here? Are you with … do you know someone who’s … you know.”
    “My ex-wife.”
    OK, that threw a damper on things, she thought.
    “She died the day our divorce became final. Car hit her. Her last words were, ‘I’ll always love you.’” His accent became almost impenetrable. “I’m having you on.” She gave him a blank look. “I’m making it up,” he said in a normal voice. “It’s Christmas Eve and I have no place better to be and I’m friends with the owners and currently I have no woman in my life.”
    “Cheeky monkey,” she said, trying to sound British. She regretted it immediately. She wasn’t very good at accents, but he just seemed to have an unfair advantage with his.
    “That’s very good,” he said. He pointed to the book again. “Seriously, are you interested in that?”
    “Yes. I’d like to see if I can boost the range on this thing. Do you know anything about these?” She turned her shoulder to let him see the terminal on her arm.
    “Well, I know a little.” He took out his wallet and handed her his business card. It said “Robert Feore.” He worked for the AfterNet.
    “Really, uh Robert?” she asked.
    “Bob,” he said. “There are a few unofficial hacks to extend the field, but then it’s so strong it violates FCC regs. And battery life will drain a lot faster unless you put in a pot to adjust it … and the case is held together with Torx screws so you’ll need a special screwdriver …”
    She looked at him skeptically. “So essentially, no. It’s nothing I can do.”
    “I didn’t say that. You can find instructions for mods on the Internet. I’ll admit cutting the surface mount traces to the limiting resistor on the board is difficult and if you screw it up, you’ve basically destroyed it, but it can be done. Of course, as an AfterNet employee, I could never condone such a thing. Wink, wink.”
    “Huh? What … wink, wink?”
    He looked at her as incredulously. “Monty Python.”
    “Oh.”
    “You know, Monty Python’s Flying Circus.”
    “I know,” she said, a little irritated. “I’ve seen Holy Grail . And the other one, the Jesus one.” She liked Monty Python, up to a point, but the encyclopedic knowledge of Python fans could grate on her. “Anyway, what do you mean?”
    “It’s why I gave you my card. I could mod your terminal for you. Or perform any other services you might desire.”
    This was a new experience for her. Her last boyfriend, who was chased off by her mother, only asked her out after six months of preliminaries. He tapped the card she still held in her hand. “That’s my email address, and my phone number, and my cell number. I could add my ICQ, but that might appear too desperate.”
    “Is this man annoying you, officer?” she heard from her ear buds. Great timing, Alex.
    “I’m sure I have more than enough information to contact you, should I need to.”
    “Because I could make him go away. Call for backup,” Munroe said.
    “Is there something wrong with your ear?” Robert asked.
    “I’m getting a call,” she lied. “I’ll just ignore it.”
    “Can you do that, if you’re a cop?”
    “He’s right, you know. You’re always on duty.”
    “No, it’s a personal call. You’re right, I’d better …” She put the book back on the shelf. “It’s been nice …”
    “Shouldn’t I get your card?” Robert asked.
    “Look, thanks, but I …”
    “Oh, give him your card,” Munroe said. “I’ll wait.”
    She took