CHAPTER THREE
MR. MONK MEETS HIS MILK
When I got to Monk's apartment the next day, he was sitting in the back corner watching the door, eyes wide open.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"Th-th-the m-m-milk!" He spat out. Monk is completely afraid of milk. He says that 'It's bodily fluid.' and that 'You don't drink bodily fluids.'
"What? What milk?" I said.
"Ke-Kevin! He sp-spilled mi-milk i-in fr-front of-of my d-d-door."
"I didn't see anything. He probably cleaned it up already."
"But the germs, the essence is still there! I can never leave this place again! I just know he didn't clean it right!"
"Mr. Monk! It's fine! Just, leap over where it was."
"It's probably airborne! You're probably carrying it! Oh God, why me? Why me?"
"Monk! Get over it! Now let's go!" I gripped his arm and dragged him out the door. He's stronger than he looks. But, we finally made it out.
Corey Hantus was a thin, buff, twenty-one-year-old. He had blonde hair with thin, brown highlights. He looked like one of those male models. Lucky Serena. Now, I know that's being a little mean, but you haven't seen this guy. Well, enough of that.
"Corey Hantus?" Monk said. Corey's hand went out and Monk reluctantly did the same. After they shook Monk took the wipe I had and thoroughly scrubbed his hand. Hantus looked at me puzzled and I mouthed sorry.
"Yes. Is this because of Serena's dad? I mean, we didn't like each other, but I didn't kill him! I was here with Serena! You can ask her!"
"We know." I said, "We're just here to make sure."
"What's this?" Monk asked, pointing to a small bottle on a desk.
"Oh, that's just invisible ink. My nephew comes here all the time and he likes to play with it."
"How old is he?" I asked.
"Four. He really loves it here. He always brings his toys. Ha!"
"Invisible ink? I can see it." Monk said.
"Well, you can see it at first. But when it goes on paper like this," Corey took a feather and dipped it in the vial. He started to write his name on a piece of paper. "It disappears. To see it you have to put it in an oven for a few seconds." He took the paper over to his kitchen, leaving us a few moments to talk.
"What do you think?" I asked.
"He didn't do it." Monk whispered.
"Then do you know who did yet?"
"No." At that moment Hantus came in and showed monk the paper with his name.
"Wow. That's amazing!" Monk said. I couldn't believe he'd never heard of invisible ink before. It's a common gag. But, then again, he's Monk.
"Well, I think we're about done here." I said, "Mr. Monk, is there anything else you want to ask him?"
"Yes, where can I buy this stuff?"
"Oh, this wasn't bought. It was homemade. I make it for my nephew all the time. I can give you the recipe. The main ingredient is milk-" That's all he had to say.
"MILK!!!??? Oh my God! Natalie, call the cops! We have to alert him to the authorities! You are a sick, sick disgusting man!" He went on like this for a few more minutes until I finally got him to stop. I apologized and rushed Monk out.
"Mr. Monk!" I said disgusted, "He was a sweet man! Why did you go off like that? That was totally selfish!"
"Th-the milk! I'm going to have nightmares for weeks!" Sometimes that man makes me so frustrated. I started to get what Stottlemeyer calls a 'Monk-ache.' We headed off to my house after that.
