Grandma: 8:30 Biography, ah, they’re doing George Clooney. If I were 10 years younger, I’d be all over that man. Sex and the City...I don’t think so. You’re too young to be watching that one. I think. You know, I don’t even know how old you are. If nobody claims you by next week, I’m adopting you. Would you like that?
Kidnapper 1: Shut up!
Kidnapper 2: Throw that over.
Julie: Hey, what are you doing?
Kidnapper 2: Careful.
Julie: Nana! Nana! Nana! Help! Somebody!
Continue reading...
Captain Stottlemeyer: A lightning bolt.
Lt. Disher: We think it’s a calling card. There was a radical group in the early 70’s...the Lightning Brigade. They were involved in some ROTC bombings...
Captain Stottlemeyer: I know who the Lightning Brigade was, Lieutenant. I remember the 70’s; at least some of it. You OK?
Lt. Disher: They have a cat; I’m allergic to cats.
Captain Stottlemeyer: OK, we’ve got two, short hours before this phone call. Are we ready?
Police Officer: Yeah, we’re all set, Captain. We’ve got two recorders ready to roll and the phone company is on line for an immediate trap-and-trace.
Captain Stottlemeyer: How long do we need?
Police Officer: Well, if it’s a land line, we got ‘em; if it’s a cell phone,...
Captain Stottlemeyer: ...which it will be.
Police Officer: ...we’ll need 45 seconds.
Julie: Excuse me, Captain Stottlemeyer? Hello, I’m Julie Parlow. Uh, where is the FBI? This is a kidnapping. I happen to be a lawyer, so I know in a kidnapping situation, the FBI has jurisprudence.
Lt. Disher: That’s only true if your grandmother has been taken across the state lines.
Captain Stottlemeyer: Or if she has been held for more than 24 hours. And I think you meant to say ‘jurisdiction,’ right? What kind of lawyer are you?
Julie: Well, I never said I was lawyer.
Lt. Disher: Yes, you did.
Julie: I’m a law student at Garland College. And I know that I have certain rights. And if you don’t do everything to get my grandmother back, I could sue you all for malpractice.
Captain Stottlemeyer: No, you can’t.
Julie: I can’t?
Captain Stottlemeyer: No. Miss Parlow, you live here with your grandmother, right?
Julie: Yeah, I moved in after both my parents died. That was four years ago.
Lt. Disher: So it’s just the two of you?
Julie: Well, yes sir. Well, and the cat.
Lt. Disher: Yeah, I know about the cat.
Captain Stottlemeyer: Is your grandmother wealthy?
Julie: No, that’s why this doesn’t make any sense. Why Nana? She’s 76 years old, she’s not rich, she doesn’t have an enemy in the world and she’s out there somewhere right now scared to death. Captain, you’ve got to do something. Oh, what about that detective I was reading about? The Monk?
Captain Stottlemeyer: Monk. His name is Monk.
Julie: Yeah, I read an article about him. They quoted you. You said he was brilliant.
Captain Stottlemeyer: Yeah, um, Adrian Monk is a former homicide detective who we use on a consulting basis from time to time, once we’ve hit a wall. But we haven’t hit a wall, Miss Parlow. Everything is under control.
Lt. Disher: Sorry.
Monk: Careful. Slowly. Concentrate. Be the dotted line. Come in, it’s open.
Julie: Adrian Monk?
Monk: You’re not Sharona.
Julie: No, sir. My name’s Julie Parlow. I need your help. It’s my grandmother. She’s been kidnapped. Thank you.
Monk: OK, we’ll just keep it right there, if you need it again.
Julie: Mr. Monk, you’re a private consultant now, right? I want to hire you. There’s just one thing. I can’t pay you.
Monk: Well, that’s a problem. My assistant, Sharona, won’t let me take any more cases for free.
Julie: But doesn’t she work for you?
Monk: Well, it’s complicated.
Julie: Here’s the thing. I don’t have any money, but I can pay you in trade. If you help me, I can help you.
Monk: What are we talking about here?
Julie: I can get you reinstated.
Monk: Reinstated?
Julie: I know you want your badge back more than anything. And I already talked to Professor Emory about your situation.
Monk: Professor Em---Eugene Emory? At Garland College?
Julie: That’s right. I’m in his class.
Monk: Oh my God! I just read his book.
Julie: Oh, yeah! We have a test on that next week.
Monk: It’s wonderful.
Julie: What’s it about?
Monk: Well, it’s an argument for tort reform. Professor Emory feels that we can eliminate all superfluous litigation if we cap punitive damages and hold the plaintiff liable for any court expenses. But I’m sure you could get out of the test, because of your grandmother...
Julie: Right!
Monk: But you did talk to Professor Emory, Eugene Emory, about me?
Julie: Yeah, he said he could definitely get you reinstated; guaranteed it.
Monk: How?
Julie: I’ll tell you when my grandmother is home safe and sound. Do we have a deal?
Monk: I could always call Professor Emory myself. But I won’t.
Sharona: She can get you reinstated?
Monk: She talked to Eugene Emory, the Pulitzer Prize winner. There’s some sort of loophole in the law. It’s too good to be true.
Sharona: Exactly. You OK?
Lt. Disher: She has a cat.
Sharona: Why don’t you tell her to bring it upstairs?
Lt. Disher: No, it doesn’t matter. If a cat’s been in the house for the last year, I can’t stop sneezing.
Sharona: Really. Remind me to buy you a cat.
Lt. Disher: Well, at least you won’t be alone Saturday nights.
Julie: Is anybody hungry? I made these pastries while we were waiting just to keep my mind off things.
Sharona: Oh, thanks.
Lt. Disher: No.
Sharona: These are really good. Delicious! You could sell these.
Julie: Actually, it’s always been my dream to open up my own bakery.
Sharona: So, why are you in law school?
Julie: Oh, well, that’s what my parents always wanted. So I used their life insurance money to pay for the tuition.
Sharona: But if you’re not happy.
Julie: Well, you don’t want to disappoint your parents, even if they’re not here. Well, especially if they’re not here.
Sharona: I understand.
Captain Stottlemeyer: Not a word. She’s alone in the house. Now, nobody’s in the room, but her. Julie, we need 45 seconds. OK? You can do it.
Julie: Hello?
Kidnapper: This is the Lightning Brigade. All the power to the people. We have your grandmother.
Julie: Is she alright?
Kidnapper: She’s fine. And if you want her to stay that way, do exactly what we say. And don’t try to keep us on the phone, Julie. We’re not stupid.
Julie: Well, um, OK, but can I talk to her?
Kidnapper: I said she’s fine. Don’t you trust me?
Julie: Yeah, but she has a heart condition. She needs her medication.
Kidnapper: You better listen carefully. Here’s what I need you to do.
Julie: Do you want me to hang up? Is that what you want?
Kidnapper: Who’s there? Oh, you blew it, honey.
Police Officer: 41 seconds. We missed him.
Monk: She had something on her cheek.
Julie: Do you think they’ll call again?
Monk: I don’t think so.
Captain Stottlemeyer: Sharona, watch him.
Julie: That wasn’t the police. I’m just really nervous. OK? I swear.
Kidnapper: Don’t be nervous. Here’s what we need you to do. There are hundreds of homeless people in the Mission District. They suffer needlessly while, just blocks away, the rich stuff their fat faces in fancy restaurants.
Julie: We’re not rich.
Kidnapper: Shut up and listen. Tonight, we are re-distributing a little wealth. I want you to buy every homeless person in the Mission District a turkey dinner.
Julie: A turkey dinner?
Kidnapper: Just do it! And grandma will be home before you know it.
Julie: Well, what time do you...
Police Officer: She didn’t get it.
Captain Stottlemeyer: They want turkey dinners for all the homeless people in the Mission District. What the hell’s going on?
Sharona: This is crazy. What kind of ransom demand is this?
Monk: I know. The kidnappers are risking life in prison for what? $500 worth of food? The shelter on 3rd is serving turkey tonight anyway.
Sharona: Well, we can’t stand around here like this. We don’t exactly blend in.
Monk: Do you have a suggestion?
Sharona: This is crazy.
Monk: It doesn’t matter. I’m getting my badge back.
Sharona: I’ll believe that when I see it. Julie Parlow didn’t exactly seem like Supreme Court material.
Monk: Gravy?
Man: No, thanks.
Monk: Everyone else is having gravy.
Man: I don’t like it.
Monk: Why don’t you have just a little gravy?
Sharona: He doesn’t want any gravy.
Monk: I think the gentleman can speak for himself.
Man: I don’t want any gravy.
Monk: OK, sure. Enjoy your meal. Oh my God!
Sharona: What are you suppose to be?
Lt. Disher: I’m undercover. I’m homeless.
Sharona: What’s that on your face?
Lt. Disher: Dirt.
Sharona: Get the lady some gravy.
Monk: Here it is.
Man: Here what is?
Monk: Didn’t you just ask for gravy?
Man: I didn’t say anything.
Monk: Oh. Well, here it is.
Man: I told you I don’t want it.
Monk: OK, how about this? You have some gravy.
Man: And?
Monk: And that’s it.
Police Officer: We got her. We got her back. They dropped her off two blocks away.
Lt. Disher: Call EMS. It’s me.
Sharona: How’s Grandma Parlow doing?
Captain Stottlemeyer: She’s a tough old bird.
Monk: But she can’t id the kidnappers?
Lt. Disher: Blindfolded the whole time.
Captain Stottlemeyer: But, she thinks she’s heard their voices before. She just can’t remember where.
Sharona: Well, at least they didn’t hurt her.
Lt. Disher: No, she was treated pretty well considering. They even kept saying, “Be careful” when they carried her out of the house.
Captain Stottlemeyer: Yeah, they fed her pizza, all the pizza she could eat. I can’t even get pizza at my house.
Lt. Disher: And get this. They played opera. The old lady said she could hear it through the door.
Monk: Kidnappers are into opera. What kind of revolution is this?
Captain Stottlemeyer: We’re about to find out. We picked up Ron Abrash this morning. He was the leader of the Lightning Brigade 30 years ago.
Lt. Disher: He’s in the box now.
Captain Stottlemeyer: Do you want to sit in?
Monk: You’re asking me? To sit in?
Captain Stottlemeyer: Yeah. I heard you might be getting your badge back; it’d be good practice for you.
Monk: Thanks. I’m going in.
Lt. Disher: Cool. It will be the three of us. Good cop, bad cop, worse cop.
Captain Stottlemeyer: Randy, it’s a two-man job. Just wait here.
Lt. Disher: OK, I’ll just wait here and...
Sharona: ...weep openly.
Lt. Disher: Do some paperwork.
Sharona: While you weep openly.
Ron: Don’t you people read the papers? The Brigade is ancient history. We broke up, like, 25 years ago. Besides, all we cared about was the war. Remember the war?
Captain Stottlemeyer: Yeah, I remember the war. I had a brother over there. So, you’re denying any involvement in the kidnapping of Mrs. Parlow.
Ron: Of course I deny it. Demanding free turkey dinners? That’s insane. Besides, I’m a vegan.
Captain Stottlemeyer: Alright, Ronnie, where were you yesterday at 7:30 in the morning?
Ron: I was in my classroom. I teach graduate level English and screenwriting at Berkley. Call them. Check it out. The most radical thing I do these days is give the finger to jerks driving SUVs.
Captain Stottlemeyer: Alright, maybe it wasn’t you. Maybe it was some of your old playmates trying to relive their glory days.
Monk: Maybe they missed the buzz. You look familiar, Ronnie. Didn’t I see you last week at the opera?
Ron: The opera? What have you been smoking, man?
Monk: I’ve been smoking the truth, man!
Ron: What are you guys doing? Good Cop, crazy cop?
Monk: Ronnie, could you roll up your left sleeve?
Ron: Alright, so I still have the tattoo. It doesn’t mean anything. It’s like having an old girlfriend’s name on your arm. It doesn’t mean you still love her.
Monk: That lightning bolt has three jags.
Ron: That’s right. Resist. Revolt. Reform. That was our motto.
Monk: Captain, can I talk to you for a second? Captain, I don’t think it was him or anybody in his group. You heard him. Each of those three jags means something. Any real member of the brigade would have known that. But, look, look what was painted on Mrs. Parlow’s wall.
Captain Stottlemeyer: Two jags. How did you know he had a tattoo on his arm?
Monk: I didn’t. His other sleeve was rolled up.
Captain Stottlemeyer: It wasn’t even.
Monk: Exactly. I don’t think this was about politics at all. There is something else going on here.
Captain Stottlemeyer: Well, you knock yourself out, Monk. As far as we are concerned, this is on the back burner; wasn’t exactly the crime of the century. Turkey for the people, right on!
Julie: I’ll bring the car around. Be home in half an hour.
Grandma: Julie. Julie, what is it?
Julie: I never should have left you alone. I should have been there.
Grandma: Oh, honey, this is not your fault. I should have stabbed him in his particulars when I had the chance.
Julie: What would I do if anything ever happened to you?
Grandma: You would have had a brilliant, rich, full life. You would have met a man, had children and you’d name one after me. And then, open up that bakery you’re always going on about. That’s all I was thinking about when I was locked up in that horrible room.
Sharona: So, you have to be home by 5:00, OK? Hi, Julie.
Julie: Nana, this is Sharona Flemming. She works for Adrian Monk, the detective I was telling you about.
Sharona: Hi, Mrs. Parlow, how are you feeling?
Grandma: I’m better. Tell me, is it true they said they arrested a hippie that belonged to that group, the Lightning Rods?
Sharona: Yeah, the Lightning Brigade.
Grandma: I should have stabbed him in his particulars.
Sharona: Well, actually my boss doesn’t think they were involved at all. He thinks somebody was framing them. Julie, can I just talk to you for a sec?
Julie: Nana, I will be right there.
Sharona: Um, I just want to make sure that you remember what you promised Adrian. You know that if he helped you...
Julie: Oooh, yeah, about getting him reinstated. Just come by the law school library tonight. I’ll be there with my whole study group.
Sharona: Great, great. I just want to let you know that he’s really counting on this. It really means a lot to him.
Julie: Look, I understand; a deal’s a deal, I mean, it’s like we have a verbal, what’s the word? Verbal, I’m drawing a blank...
Sharona: ...contract.
Julie: That’s it!
Reporter: Ms. Parlow, excuse me, why do you think the lightning Brigade targeted your grandmother?
Julie: We have no idea.
Reporter: Is she a political activist?
Julie: An activist? No, no, no, my grandmother doesn’t even vote. Besides, Adrian Monk, the most respected detective in San Francisco, doesn’t even think the Brigade is involved at all.
Reporter: The police don’t seem to care about the case at all. They’re calling it a harmless prank. Any comment?
Julie: Well, Adrian Monks cares. And he is not going to quit until he find the people or peoples responsible for committing this horrible crime.
Reporter: Thank You, Miss Parlow.
Julie: Hey, guys. Adrian Monk, Sharona Flemming. This is my study group. Edie Rushert, Tom Burton and Sasha Gordon.
Sharona: Are you studying in Spanish?
Tom: Yeah, I’m taking my next bar exam in Peru. It’s all true and false down there.
Monk: Doesn’t that mean you’ll only be able to practice in Peru?
Sharona: Do any of you have any professional experience yet?
Julie: Oh, well, we’ve done a lot of pro bono work.
Sasha: Last year, we assisted in two death penalty cases; Sal Dickerson and Bill Jansen.
Monk: Dickerson and Jansen? Weren’t they...
Sasha: I miss them every day.
Edie: That’s how you learn; by making mistakes. Now we know, if you are filing a stay of execution, you have to take into account Daylight Savings Time.
Tom: The law’s hard, Mr. Monk. I mean, look at all these books. And there are more upstairs.
Monk: About my reinstatement, you guys definitely talked, in person, to Professor Emory, Eugene Emory?
Julie: Absolutely. These are his notes right here. Professor Emory said it can’t fail.
Monk: It can’t fail.
Julie: OK, so here’s the plan. We sue the police department under Title I, Section 102 B.
Edie: The ADA prohibits discrimination against a qualified individual in regard to hiring, advancement or discharge of employee.
Sharona: The ADA?
Tom: The Americans with Disabilities Act. It’s been the law since 1990.
Monk: Disabilities.
Julie: Well, lucky for you, all your phobias and obsessive behavior have been well-documented, so you could have your badge back as early as next week.
Edie: All you have to do is take a test.
Sasha: No biggie; just 20 or 30 questions about department protocol.
Tom: A mere formality.
Julie: It’s up to you. Shall I file this or not?
Monk: Am I disabled?
Sharona: Well, it’s the only way.
Monk: OK, do it.
Clerk: Excuse me, are you Adrian Monk? A man just gave me this note for you.
Monk: I thought you were...the note said to come alone.
Sharona: Well, this is as alone as you’re going to get. Where is he?
Monk: I don’t know.
Sharona: Oh, God, this place is creeping me out. Let’s go back downstairs.
Monk: Hold on.
Sharona: Will you forget about the book? They have librarians for that.
Monk: It’ll just take a second.
Sharona: Oh My God! Adrian? Adrian! Adrian?!
Sharona: Oh my God!
Adrian: A little help!
Sharona: Oh my God, Adrian! Don’t let go!
Monk: Don’t let go. That’s good advice. I better write that down or I’m going to forget it.
Sharona: Don’t worry, they’ll be down in a minute. OK, here’s another question. A man is blocking the main entrance of a store. What is the charge?
Monk: Obstructing a public access.
Sharona: That’s right. The test used to determine whether a hand gun...
Monk: The Pariffin – Diphenylamine Test. Are all the questions going to be this easy?
Sharona: I think so. This is the official practice book.
Monk: Then I am in, baby. I already had my old uniform cleaned and pressed.
Sharona: Adrian, don’t you think that’s a little pre-mature?
Adrian: It’s not pre-mature, it’s perfectly mature. Sharona, I’m back.
Julie: Look who’s awake. Are you ready for your test?
Monk: A piece of cake.
Sharona: Mrs. Parlow, how are you feeling?
Grandma: Oh, don’t worry about me. I heard what happened to you in the library.
Monk: It just means we’re just getting close; somebody’s getting nervous, Mrs. Parlow. So now I want to try to find out exactly where they took you. Sharona, do you have that map?
Grandma: Alright, but I told the chief of police I couldn’t help him. I had an afghan over my head.
Monk: Maybe we will be able to figure it out anyway.
Sharona: We’re here. What are you doing?
Monk: Just smoothing it out. What else do you remember about the trip?
Grandma: Well, like I said, I didn’t see a thing.
Monk: Did you hear anything?
Grandma: No, I’m sorry.
Monk: Did you smell anything?
Grandma: You know, now that you mention it, I did. I smelled fresh bread.
Monk: Bread.
Julie: Oh my God, there’s a big bakery on Clarkson Boulevard. You can smell it when you drive past.
Grandma: And then we stopped for 4 or maybe 5 minutes.
Monk: Why so long?
Sharona: Were they getting gas?
Grandma: No.
Monk: It could have been a draw bridge.
Sharona: Oh my God! Third Street drawbridge across Channel.
Grandma: Then just a few minutes later, we got to their house and it was exactly 8:00.
Sharona: How do you know that?
Grandma: My watch was beeping. You see, I set it so that I don’t forget to take my ticker pills. And it was raining.
Sharona: Are you sure? It wasn’t raining all week.
Grandma: Listen, missy, I think I know what rain feels like and that’s what I felt when they carried me from the van into the house. And you know, that wasn’t all. Cough drops.
Julie: Cough drops?
Grandma: I distinctly smelled cough drops.
Monk: Eucalyptus trees. They smell like cough drops.
Monk: There’s the big bakery. Turn here. You got to turn. Turn here!
Sharona: Will you relax? I’m turning.
Monk: OK, there’s the drawbridge. Stop the car! The bridge is up.
Sharona: Do you want to drive?
Monk: No, you’re doing fine.
Sharona: This has to be the block. I can smell the eucalyptus from here. OK, which house?
Monk: We’ll know in a few seconds.
Sharona: What do you mean?
Monk: Mrs. Parlow said it was raining at exactly 8:00. But what she felt wasn’t rain. Automatic sprinkler system.
Sharona: That’s our house. Which one is it?
Monk: That one. They fed her pizza, remember?
Sharona: You’re going to be a pretty good cop. Now what?
Monk: Now, we take a picture of whoever comes out of the house. Mrs. Parlow said she recognized their voices. Maybe she knows who they are.
Sharona: How are we going to get their picture?
Monk: I don’t know! Why don’t you think of something. I did the sprinkler thing, it’s your turn.
Sharona: Oh, so now we’re taking turns?
Monk: Yes, now we’re taking turns.
Sharona: Since when?
Monk: It’s our new policy. Didn’t you get my memo?
Sharona: Stay here. I’ll send you a memo.
Monk: What did you say?
Sharona: Nothing.
Monk: I heard the word ‘memo.’
Sharona: Just stay here and study for your test. Get the camera ready!
Carol: Harold, what’s going on?
Harold: Nothing. Cars have a mind of their own. German engineering, my ass. I don’t see anything.
Grandma: Well, strike my pretty.
Monk: You do recognize them?
Grandma: Oh, yes, they were here just last week. Remember? They came about the cat.
Julie: Two weeks ago, Nana took in a stray cat. It didn’t have a collar; we didn’t know who it belong to.
Grandma: We were worried about you.
Julie: I ran off some fliers and put them up and the next day, this couple called us.
Monk: Harold and Carol Maloney. They own an antique store on Grandess Boulevard.
Sharona: It’s 5 blocks away.
Grandma: I knew there was something sneaky about them. Do you know where I should have stabbed them?
Sharona: Yeah, I think we do.
Julie: Their cat had run away a few days ago, so they came over, but it wasn’t theirs.
Monk: Is that it? They just looked at the cat?
Sharona: Did they say or do anything unusual?
Julie: No, they were here just a few minutes.
Grandma: We never saw them again.
Julie: Mr. Monk, I don’t understand. They’re antique dealers. What do they want with Nana? And what’s all this crap about turkey dinners?
Monk: I don’t know...yet.
Sharona: Why don’t we call the Captain?
Monk: Let’s wait until tomorrow. I should have more clout by then.
Grandma: What do you mean?
Monk: Well, thanks to your granddaughter, by this time tomorrow, I’ll be back on the force.
Proctor: Have a seat right here. You have 30 minutes to answer all 50 questions. Make sure you fill in the little circles completely so the computer can read them.
Monk: What if I finish early?
Proctor: You might want to check your work.
Monk: I don’t think that’ll be necessary.
Proctor: Are you ready? Go! Good luck. Yes?
Monk: Could you take one of these off the table?
Proctor: Why?
Monk: I can’t have two. I get confused.
Proctor: Which one?
Monk: This one. No, wait! You know what? That one. Wait. You better choose.
Proctor: Alright. OK?
Monk: Thanks. I’ll do the same for you sometime.
Proctor: You have a half hour.
Monk: No problem. No problem.
Proctor: Oh, you finished?
Monk: I need a new sheet.
Captain Stottlemeyer: Now, where is he?
Lt. Disher: He locked himself in.
Captain Stottlemeyer: In my office? I don’t think so. Hey, Monk, open the door. Let me guess. He didn’t pass the test.
Sharona: He didn’t quite finish.
Captain Stottlemeyer: How far did he get?
Sharona: He did one question.
Lt. Disher: Over and over and over.
Captain Stottlemeyer: What’s that?
Sharona: His pencil. Adrian, you can retake the test!
Monk: I’ll never pass.
Captain Stottlemeyer: Hey, Monk! Go find a key. Monk, listen to me. Listen, I think that you failed that test on purpose. You don’t want to get your badge back on a technicality, right? You want to earn it. You will. Adrian, you will. You’re going to be a great cop again. And you’re going to do it the right way. And I respect you for that. Now, open the door. Monk, open that damn door or I will give you until 3!
Monk: A.M. or P.M.?
Captain Stottlemeyer: Not three o’clock, you fool. One, two...What is that? Monk!
Lt. Disher: I think that’s your chair.
Captain Stottlemeyer: Monk! That’s my father’s chair. If you put one scratch on that chair, I’ll never forgive you. Monk, be careful with that chair! Move the chair, Monk! Monk, move the chair.
Sharona: You OK?
Monk: You said, “Be careful” because you love that chair.
Captain Stottlemeyer: That’s right.
Monk: The kidnappers said “Be careful,” when they carried Mrs. Parlow out of the house. They weren’t worried about her; they were worried about that chair.
Lt. Disher: What chair?
Monk: The chair she was tied to. That’s what this whole thing’s been about.
Julie: That’s my grandmother’s chair. I recognize it.
Harold: She’s lying. People make false claims about pieces like this all the time.
Sharona: You like opera?
Carol: Yes, we love it. Is that a crime?
Sharona: Should be.
Harold: Oh, Captain, please!
Captain Stottlemeyer: Tell me about the chair, Mr. Maloney.
Harold: I’d be happy to. It is a fanback Windsor, in original finish, built 1774. Dealers like us wait our whole lives for a piece like this.
Carol: You note the engraving on the back in the shape of Monticello.
Harold: This chair was personally handcrafted by Thomas Jefferson. In fact, there is some evidence to support the fact that he sat in this very chair while he drafted the Declaration of Independence.
Lt. Disher: Does it swivel?
Captain Stottlemeyer: How much is it worth?
Carol: 2, maybe 2.5.
Lt. Disher: Million?
Harold: Yes, Lieutenant, million. Actually, we’ll find out for sure next week. We’re auctioning it off. I don’t imagine any of you will be bidding on it.
Captain Stottlemeyer: Where did you get it?
Julie: I’ll tell you where they got it. They stole it from my grandmother’s house.
Monk: She’s right. Your cat ran away. You saw the flyer and you went to their house looking for it and that’s where you saw the chair. You must have recognized it right away, but what could you do? You couldn’t offer to buy it. They might have had it appraised and that would have ruined everything.
Sharona: You couldn’t steal it. Cops would have been looking for it. You’d never be able to sell it.
Monk: Then you had an idea. It was brilliant, really. You kidnapped Mrs. Parlow and carried her out of the house with the chair, make some ridiculous ransom demand and then let her go. You figured anyone would be so relieved to have their Nana back, that they wouldn’t even remember the missing chair.
Harold: Prepare to be disappointed, Mr. Monk. I can prove provenance. I have a receipt.
Carol: We bought the chair from a dealer in Baton Rouge four years ago. Poor sap, he didn’t know what he was sitting on.
Harold: Literally!
Julie: I bet it’s a forgery. Forgery is a serious offense. It is a Class C felony. Or B. B or C, but...
Harold: The receipt will have to speak for itself; unfortunately, the dealer has since passed on.
Sharona: How convenient.
Harold: So, can you prove that the chair belongs to you? No. Interesting. OK, well, until you can, I suggest you all leave. It’s my dinner time.
Sharona: Well, that could have gone better.
Julie: Can’t we do anything?
Captain Stottlemeyer: I cannot question them officially unless you’ve got something, anything to prove you own that chair.
Lt. Disher: Do you have anything on paper?
Julie: No, Nana bought it at a flea market 20 years ago. She can’t even remember where.
Sharona: Do you have a picture of it?
Julie: I checked all our photo albums. Nothing.
Monk: Wait a minute. Listen.
Lt. Disher: Listen to what?
Monk: Listen to you. You’re not sneezing. You haven’t sneezed at all since we got here.
Sharona: That’s true.
Monk: The Maloney’s said they had a cat that ran away. That’s why they went to Julie’s house.
Julie: Right.
Monk: They lied. They never had a cat. Otherwise you’d be sneezing your head off.
Lt. Disher: You’re right. He’s right.
Julie: I’m lost, as usual.
Captain Stottlemeyer: If the Maloney’s never had a cat, why did they go to your house in the first place?
Monk: They must have known about the chair somehow. Do you still have a copy of that flyer?
Julie: Uh, I think so.
Captain Stottlemeyer: That’s the prettiest picture I’ve ever seen. Hi, folks, remember us? I was wondering if we could bother you again? Thank you.
Sharona: Congratulations, you solved the case.
Lt. Disher: Well, I had a little help.
Julie: Hi, Nana? Guess what? I’m quitting law school! I’m buying my own bakery! Yes, we can afford it. We can afford anything we want. I love you, Nana!
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