Lieutenant Disher was out for a stroll, enjoying the San Francisco scenery.
New York may have been an amazing place, but he still felt glad to be back
home. It was less noisy, less hectic, and no one tried to sell you faulty
watches on the street. But the thing Disher loved most of all was how much
less overt street crime there was.
There still was some, though, a fact brought home to Disher when across the street he saw a woman being mugged by a man wearing a mask. He didn't seem to be armed, but he was severely manhandling the woman to get at her purse. "Hey! Hey!" Disher shouted as he ran toward them. The mugger dropped the purse and ran down the sidewalk. Disher chased him, but the man proved to be in far better shape. He turned into an alley, and by the time Disher rounded the corner, he was nowhere to be found.
Disher walked back to the scene of the crime with mixed feelings. He had stopped a wrong from being committed, but losing the perp was never something to brag about. The victim was still there, seemingly frozen by what had just happened. "Miss, are you all right?" he asked. Slowly she seemed to come out of it, and responded, "Yes, I think so. That was really brave, what you did." "Ah, just part of the job. I'm a cop." Disher was trying to sound impressive, but being so out of breath hampered it somewhat.
"Oh, really?" the woman said. "I've never met a policeman before. Of course, I've never been robbed before." "Listen," said Disher. "Why don't you give me your name and some way to contact you, in case that guy does something else and we need to get a statement from you?" That was only part of it; he was also hoping to parlay this experience into a date.
"Well, all right. My name is Carolyn Burningham. Here's my number," she said as she wrote it on a piece of paper she took out of her purse. "Never know when you'll need it," she said to Disher's confused look. "Although I don't know how much help I could be. You saw yourself he had a mask on. I have no idea what he looks like." Disher was prepared for this, saying the classic cop line: "Actually, anything you could tell us would be helpful." "You know, I did notice something odd..."
A couple minutes later Disher got out his cell phone and called Captain Stottlemeyer. "Hello?" said a gruff voice. "Hi, it's Randy," Disher said. "I just saw an attempted robbery and," "Where was it?" Sottlemeyer interrupted. "A block away from my house. There was a woman who got mugged," "And you called me about that?" The captain was clearly annoyed, which was nothing new to Disher. However, this time he did have something important to say. "Well, not about that, exactly. Just something about the man who did it. The woman said that while they were fighting over her purse, she saw that he had six fingers on his right hand."
There was a pause, and then Stottlemeyer said, "I guess we'd better call Monk."
There still was some, though, a fact brought home to Disher when across the street he saw a woman being mugged by a man wearing a mask. He didn't seem to be armed, but he was severely manhandling the woman to get at her purse. "Hey! Hey!" Disher shouted as he ran toward them. The mugger dropped the purse and ran down the sidewalk. Disher chased him, but the man proved to be in far better shape. He turned into an alley, and by the time Disher rounded the corner, he was nowhere to be found.
Disher walked back to the scene of the crime with mixed feelings. He had stopped a wrong from being committed, but losing the perp was never something to brag about. The victim was still there, seemingly frozen by what had just happened. "Miss, are you all right?" he asked. Slowly she seemed to come out of it, and responded, "Yes, I think so. That was really brave, what you did." "Ah, just part of the job. I'm a cop." Disher was trying to sound impressive, but being so out of breath hampered it somewhat.
"Oh, really?" the woman said. "I've never met a policeman before. Of course, I've never been robbed before." "Listen," said Disher. "Why don't you give me your name and some way to contact you, in case that guy does something else and we need to get a statement from you?" That was only part of it; he was also hoping to parlay this experience into a date.
"Well, all right. My name is Carolyn Burningham. Here's my number," she said as she wrote it on a piece of paper she took out of her purse. "Never know when you'll need it," she said to Disher's confused look. "Although I don't know how much help I could be. You saw yourself he had a mask on. I have no idea what he looks like." Disher was prepared for this, saying the classic cop line: "Actually, anything you could tell us would be helpful." "You know, I did notice something odd..."
A couple minutes later Disher got out his cell phone and called Captain Stottlemeyer. "Hello?" said a gruff voice. "Hi, it's Randy," Disher said. "I just saw an attempted robbery and," "Where was it?" Sottlemeyer interrupted. "A block away from my house. There was a woman who got mugged," "And you called me about that?" The captain was clearly annoyed, which was nothing new to Disher. However, this time he did have something important to say. "Well, not about that, exactly. Just something about the man who did it. The woman said that while they were fighting over her purse, she saw that he had six fingers on his right hand."
There was a pause, and then Stottlemeyer said, "I guess we'd better call Monk."