Chapter 1
'I am sorry to have let you wait', the officer apologized. 'No matter', Mr. Monk answered and stood up. He has waited for over an hour in the police department of San José. He had time. Nathalie was in the city, doing shopping. He had all the time in the world. He walked along the corridor together with the officer whose name badge revealed that he was called Brown with last name. A very common name, Mr. Monk thought and followed him to his office.
'Take a seat', police Officer Brown said and sat down behind his office desk. 'So you are', he looked at his file opened on the untidy desk, 'Adrian Monk. You were husband to Trudy Monk, right?' Mr. Monk nodded. 'So, let's see', he talked more to himself than to Mr. Monk. 'She died ten years ago with a car bomb. Police still has no clue who the murderer is. You worked for police, right, Mr. Monk?' 'Yes. Now I still help them, as a detective.' 'I know. I heard from you. You solved over hundred cases, did you?' Mr. Monk nodded. 'So, as I take along, you have no clue why I summoned you here?' 'That is right. I think it is something about my wife?'
'You are right, Mr. Monk. The police of San José arrested a man yesterday who claimed to know the real murderer of Trudy Monk.' 'The true murderer of my wife is already dead. The only thing I don't know is, who hired him and why', Monk said surprised. 'I know that you were pretty sure that this six-fingered man planted the bomb in your wife's car. But this man told us, that he was in charge of witnessing if the murder was done. The six-fingered man had just been the look-out so that nobody could have witnessed the planting of the explosive device.' 'Do you want to tell me, that someone else built the bomb and placed it in my wife's car?', Monk asked.
'Yes', the officer said. 'Who?' 'That question we asked him, too. But he said he wanted to tell you personally. Do you want to talk to him? He's in our interrogation room.' 'Of course', Mr. Monk said and stood up. He followed officer Brown back through the corridor into another one until they finally stopped in front of a door where 'Interrogation #1' was written on. 'Go inside', officer Brown said. 'I will watch from outside.' He nodded to the door next to them. Monk nodded and entered.
Monk sat down on the right chair. On the left one an old man with about forty years, sat. He just looked at him. 'You are Adrian Monk?', he asked. Monk nodded and looked nervously around. He did not like that little room. 'You wanted to talk to me?', he asked the man. 'Yes.' 'What is your name?' 'That is not relevant. Police did not figure that out either. But I know something that could be valuable for you, Mr. Monk.' 'What do you want for telling me?', Monk asked not trusting the man on the opposite of the table. 'I just want to get out again.' 'I can't promise that.' 'I know. The police officer here did', he nodded to the mirror behind Monk. Monk turned his head around and back. 'Tell me.'
'I don't know who hired me. But I hired Warrick Tennyson and two other criminals to build an explosive device. I just had the contract to get your wife killed but I should hire someone. Warrick, your six-fingered man, didn't kill your wife. He was just the reassurance that the other two could install the bomb without disturbance. They succeeded. You think the killer of your wife is dead but they aren't. You have to find them and the one who hired me. They are the only other people alive who know the truth. Except for the whale.' That was clear to Monk. Dale the whale of course knew who had wanted Trudy's death. 'And you know the truth', Monk said calmly. 'But I won't be alive for a long time now. I will die. You know why? Because I will tell you. The twins will kill me.' 'The twins?', Mr. Monk asked. 'The twins were the ones I hired to kill your wife. I don't know why I did. Because at this time, they were six years old.' The man said nothing for a while. Monk stared at him in disbelief. 'You want to tell me, that two six-year-old have killed my wife?', he asked. The man nodded. 'They are cruel, violent, brutal, mean, evil and don't have borders. A week ago I met them again. They still exist and they still murder. They are good contract killers now.' 'By now they're sixteen', Monk reminded him. 'I know. And in the past ten years they had enough time to get even crueler and more violent. Take care of you, Mr. Monk. When you are close enough to solve that very first case of you, you will be their target.' 'They don't want to kill me now?' 'They only get the assignment to kill you when you try to solve the case. Then the killer of your wife wants to kill you, too. And the twins have no mercy. They are young, efficient, clean and have all the means you can think about and moles wherever you think. They will kill me, too.'
'Inside here they can't do anything to you', Monk replied calmly. 'What are their names?', he asked. 'It can't be so difficult to find two little boys who want me believe that they killed my wife.'
The man laughed. 'They are no boys. They are girls. Two girls more evil you can even think about', he said. Monk blinked. 'Their names?' 'Annika and Vanessa Palmer', the man said. Then his face got a neutral expression and his head hit the table. His body fell down to the floor. Officer Brown stormed in even before Monk could stand up. He felt the pulse and shook his head. 'No pulse', he said to Mr. Monk. Monk sighed. Those twins were good.