The park was bustling with people on the beautiful summer afternoon. Some
college students were playing frisbee in an open area just south of the
baseball field, where an intramural softball game was going on. Children
played on the swings and slides not far from the frisbee game, and joggers
frequently passed by on the path that circled the park.
Twelve-year-old Todd Masters had his own frisbee and tossed it in the air. His five-year-old beagle, Duke, chased after the frisbee, jumped in the air and caught it expertly in his mouth. Then the dog faithfully returned the frisbee to his master, playing tug of war momentarily before releasing it from his teeth. Todd repeated the game, trying to make throws more difficult each time. But each time, Duke was able to catch the frisbee and return it.
"Okay, Duke," Todd yelled. He patted his leg and called for his dog. "Come here boy." Duke obediently trotted over to Todd and then followed him over to a sidewalk vendor. Todd pulled some money out of his pocket for a bottled water, with Duke sitting on the sidewalk nearby patiently.
The sound of a loud crack startled everyone in the park. It was followed shortly by a high pitched yelp and then screams as people ran to find some kind of cover. Todd had been startled momentarily by the gunshot, but after hearing the yelp, he immediately looked down. Duke was lying on his side on the sidewalk in a pool of blood. He had been shot.
* * *
Sharona stood precariously on the second step from the top of the ladder, reaching up to change a light bulb in the dim office. She was trying hard to ignore her boss, Adrian Monk, who was pacing anxiously below her.
"Adrian," she said sharply, her voice lightly accented to give away the fact that she was originally from New Jersey. She set the glass light shade on the top of the ladder. "This would be so much easier if you would stop pacing."
Monk groaned a little and covered his eyes as she unscrewed the burnt out bulb. She lightly tossed it toward the nearby trashcan, where the bulb fell quietly into the can amidst numerous crumpled papers.
"You're making me nervous," Monk said, his anxiety evident in the whining tone of his voice.
"You're making me nervous," Sharona shot back, reaching down to get the light shade after screwing in the new bulb. "Of course, if the maintenance guys in this building would actually do their jobs, we wouldn't be in this situation right now. Why don't you talk to the building manager? You're paying rent for this office."
"I know. I've been meaning to," Monk said. As Sharona climbed down, he put out his hands in case she fell, which in his mind was an inevitable fate. But she made it down to the floor safely and started folding up the ladder. "It's just that the building manager is a very angry man, and you know how I hate confrontation." Sharona rolled her eyes and leaned the ladder against the wall. She flipped the light switch and the office was filled with light. "Hey, maybe you could talk to him. You're good with confrontation."
"Do I have to do everything around here?" she asked in annoyance, shaking her head. "You know I won't be around forever, Adrian."
"Sure you will," he said with a smile. "You wouldn't leave me."
"It's tempting," she said with a smirk.
But Monk was right. Sharona had put up with him for three years, and he had grown on her. He was a giant, neurotic mess. Most normal people would end up just as crazy as Monk after spending an hour with him, but somehow he and Sharona had become more than just employer and employee. They were friends, like in The Odd Couple. Plus, for all his neurosis, Monk made up for it in brilliance. She had watched him solve so many cases that had everyone else stumped. What looked like accidents to the police looked like homicides to Adrian Monk. Impossible suspects became possible. He was a modern-day Sherlock Holmes.
There was a brief knock at the door before it opened, and in walked Sharona's son, Benjamin, along with his friend, Todd Masters. Sharona and Monk were both surprised.
"Benjy, what are you doing here?" Sharona asked. "I thought you guys were going to the park."
"I told Todd that you and Mr. Monk could help him," Ben replied. Sharona shut the office door and the four of them walked further into the office. Ben and Todd sat on the sofa.
"Help with what?" Monk asked, wondering what a twelve-year-old boy would want his help with.
"Somebody shot my dog," Todd said simply. Monk didn't react. Sharona gasped and sat next to Todd.
"Oh no, I'm so sorry," she said sympathetically. "God, I know how much you loved Duke. What happened?"
"We were playing frisbee in the park. I stopped to get some water from a vendor," Todd explained. "Duke was sitting right next to me. Then there was this loud noise and I looked down and he was dead."
"In the middle of a crowded park?" Sharona asked, surprised that someone would be so bold just to kill a dog. Todd nodded his head.
"I still don't understand where I come in," Monk said. Todd looked up to him.
"I talked to the cops but they're not going to do anything," he said.
"Did they say they weren't?" Sharona asked, having a pretty good idea why the police wouldn't do anything. Dogs didn't rank high on police priorities.
"No, but I could tell they weren't taking it seriously," Todd said. "Ben said you're good at solving murders."
"Well, yes, human murders," Monk said. Sharona shot him a look of disapproval, but he didn't notice. "I don't know what I'd be able to do for you here."
"Please, Mr. Monk," Ben said, coming to his friend's aide.
"Adrian, can I talk to you over there for a second?" Sharona asked, gesturing to the other side of the office. They walked away from Ben and Todd, and Sharona spoke in a hushed tone. "We've gotta help him."
Monk looked at Sharona like she had gone mad. The idea of investigating a dog murder sounded absurd to him. "It's just a dog."
"It's not just a dog to Todd," Sharona argued. "You never saw him with Duke. They were inseparable. That dog was the smartest dog I've ever seen, and Todd taught him everything he knew. They were best friends."
"A dog," Monk said. He thought about all the dogs he had come in close range with and he thought of dirt and fleas and smell and more dirt. "A dirty, smelly dog."
"A caring, loyal dog," Sharona shot back.
Monk sighed and shook his head. "Next I'll be investigating who fed Polly too many crackers." He walked back across the office. "Okay Todd, we'll help you."
"Thank you so much, Mr. Monk," Todd said with a grateful smile. "I just don't get why anybody would want to hurt Duke. He never hurt anybody."
"I'm sure he didn't," Monk said. Now he had to just get himself in the proper mindset to investigate the murder . . . of man's best friend.
Twelve-year-old Todd Masters had his own frisbee and tossed it in the air. His five-year-old beagle, Duke, chased after the frisbee, jumped in the air and caught it expertly in his mouth. Then the dog faithfully returned the frisbee to his master, playing tug of war momentarily before releasing it from his teeth. Todd repeated the game, trying to make throws more difficult each time. But each time, Duke was able to catch the frisbee and return it.
"Okay, Duke," Todd yelled. He patted his leg and called for his dog. "Come here boy." Duke obediently trotted over to Todd and then followed him over to a sidewalk vendor. Todd pulled some money out of his pocket for a bottled water, with Duke sitting on the sidewalk nearby patiently.
The sound of a loud crack startled everyone in the park. It was followed shortly by a high pitched yelp and then screams as people ran to find some kind of cover. Todd had been startled momentarily by the gunshot, but after hearing the yelp, he immediately looked down. Duke was lying on his side on the sidewalk in a pool of blood. He had been shot.
* * *
Sharona stood precariously on the second step from the top of the ladder, reaching up to change a light bulb in the dim office. She was trying hard to ignore her boss, Adrian Monk, who was pacing anxiously below her.
"Adrian," she said sharply, her voice lightly accented to give away the fact that she was originally from New Jersey. She set the glass light shade on the top of the ladder. "This would be so much easier if you would stop pacing."
Monk groaned a little and covered his eyes as she unscrewed the burnt out bulb. She lightly tossed it toward the nearby trashcan, where the bulb fell quietly into the can amidst numerous crumpled papers.
"You're making me nervous," Monk said, his anxiety evident in the whining tone of his voice.
"You're making me nervous," Sharona shot back, reaching down to get the light shade after screwing in the new bulb. "Of course, if the maintenance guys in this building would actually do their jobs, we wouldn't be in this situation right now. Why don't you talk to the building manager? You're paying rent for this office."
"I know. I've been meaning to," Monk said. As Sharona climbed down, he put out his hands in case she fell, which in his mind was an inevitable fate. But she made it down to the floor safely and started folding up the ladder. "It's just that the building manager is a very angry man, and you know how I hate confrontation." Sharona rolled her eyes and leaned the ladder against the wall. She flipped the light switch and the office was filled with light. "Hey, maybe you could talk to him. You're good with confrontation."
"Do I have to do everything around here?" she asked in annoyance, shaking her head. "You know I won't be around forever, Adrian."
"Sure you will," he said with a smile. "You wouldn't leave me."
"It's tempting," she said with a smirk.
But Monk was right. Sharona had put up with him for three years, and he had grown on her. He was a giant, neurotic mess. Most normal people would end up just as crazy as Monk after spending an hour with him, but somehow he and Sharona had become more than just employer and employee. They were friends, like in The Odd Couple. Plus, for all his neurosis, Monk made up for it in brilliance. She had watched him solve so many cases that had everyone else stumped. What looked like accidents to the police looked like homicides to Adrian Monk. Impossible suspects became possible. He was a modern-day Sherlock Holmes.
There was a brief knock at the door before it opened, and in walked Sharona's son, Benjamin, along with his friend, Todd Masters. Sharona and Monk were both surprised.
"Benjy, what are you doing here?" Sharona asked. "I thought you guys were going to the park."
"I told Todd that you and Mr. Monk could help him," Ben replied. Sharona shut the office door and the four of them walked further into the office. Ben and Todd sat on the sofa.
"Help with what?" Monk asked, wondering what a twelve-year-old boy would want his help with.
"Somebody shot my dog," Todd said simply. Monk didn't react. Sharona gasped and sat next to Todd.
"Oh no, I'm so sorry," she said sympathetically. "God, I know how much you loved Duke. What happened?"
"We were playing frisbee in the park. I stopped to get some water from a vendor," Todd explained. "Duke was sitting right next to me. Then there was this loud noise and I looked down and he was dead."
"In the middle of a crowded park?" Sharona asked, surprised that someone would be so bold just to kill a dog. Todd nodded his head.
"I still don't understand where I come in," Monk said. Todd looked up to him.
"I talked to the cops but they're not going to do anything," he said.
"Did they say they weren't?" Sharona asked, having a pretty good idea why the police wouldn't do anything. Dogs didn't rank high on police priorities.
"No, but I could tell they weren't taking it seriously," Todd said. "Ben said you're good at solving murders."
"Well, yes, human murders," Monk said. Sharona shot him a look of disapproval, but he didn't notice. "I don't know what I'd be able to do for you here."
"Please, Mr. Monk," Ben said, coming to his friend's aide.
"Adrian, can I talk to you over there for a second?" Sharona asked, gesturing to the other side of the office. They walked away from Ben and Todd, and Sharona spoke in a hushed tone. "We've gotta help him."
Monk looked at Sharona like she had gone mad. The idea of investigating a dog murder sounded absurd to him. "It's just a dog."
"It's not just a dog to Todd," Sharona argued. "You never saw him with Duke. They were inseparable. That dog was the smartest dog I've ever seen, and Todd taught him everything he knew. They were best friends."
"A dog," Monk said. He thought about all the dogs he had come in close range with and he thought of dirt and fleas and smell and more dirt. "A dirty, smelly dog."
"A caring, loyal dog," Sharona shot back.
Monk sighed and shook his head. "Next I'll be investigating who fed Polly too many crackers." He walked back across the office. "Okay Todd, we'll help you."
"Thank you so much, Mr. Monk," Todd said with a grateful smile. "I just don't get why anybody would want to hurt Duke. He never hurt anybody."
"I'm sure he didn't," Monk said. Now he had to just get himself in the proper mindset to investigate the murder . . . of man's best friend.
