Their first stop as always was the police station to talk to Captain Stottlemeyer and get whatever information the police had on the case. Considering this was a dog murder, Monk didn't expect the police's information to be any more detailed than what Todd had told them. The captain's secretary was on the phone, but when she saw Monk and Sharona, she quickly hung up.

"What a coincidence," she said. "The captain had asked me to call you. Please have a seat." She gestured to some chairs and headed for Stottlemeyer's office.

Sharona sat while Monk stood nearby, straightening a painting on the wall. They could hear someone speaking heatedly inside Stottlemeyer's office and it wasn't Stottlemeyer.

Inside the office a man in a very expensive-looking suit was standing in front of the captain's desk. He was the one who was speaking very loudly and angrily. Sitting on the chair in front of him was a Jack Russell terrier. The dog was wearing a diamond studded collar.

"Captain, Poochie is a very important dog. She is a dog with influence. Are you telling me that you're not going to do anything to ensure her safety from this dog sniper that's on the loose?" the man asked.

"Mr. Corson, like I said before, we are putting all available efforts into finding this dog sniper," Stottlemeyer replied from behind his desk.. "However, we are not going to take police officers off other cases to body guard Poochie just because she's rich. If you fear for her safety I suggest you keep her indoors for a while."

"Poochie needs her exercise," Corson replied sharply.

"Then put her on a treadmill," Stottlemeyer shot back snidely. He noticed his secretary in the doorway and waited for her to speak.

"Mr. Monk and Ms. Fleming are here," she announced. The captain nodded his head to let her know to send them in. Moments later, Monk and Sharona entered the office.

"Mr. Corson, I'd like you to meet Adrian Monk and his assistant, Sharona Fleming," Stottlemeyer introduced them. "This is Albert Corson, and that," he said, gesturing to the dog, "is Poochie."

"Poochie?" Monk asked, staring warily at the dog. Poochie had stood in the chair and turned to face them upon their entrance. She barked once, as if she were saying hello.

"City's richest dog," Sharona said, explaining to Monk. "She inherited over a million dollars three months ago from the rich old lady who owned her."

"Yes, that rich old lady was my mother," Corson replied, his demeanor not changing at all to be pleasant to the two of them.

"Pleasure to meet both of you," Monk said, still staring at Poochie as if any second she would pounce on him and start treating him like a chew toy, or worse . . . drooling on him.

"Monk, I want you to help on a case that Mr. Corson is very concerned about," Stottlemeyer said. Sharona moved over to Poochie and started petting her until she caught the glare she was receiving from Corson. She shot a look back at him and left Poochie alone. "It involves four shootings in which all the victims were dogs. The caliber of the bullets suggests that they were all shot with a fairly sophisticated sniper rifle."

"There were other dog shootings?" Monk asked, now intrigued that someone would go to such trouble to kill a bunch of mangy, filthy . . . loveable, adorable dogs. He tried to forget about all the filth associated with dogs, and he also tried to stop staring at Poochie.

"What do you mean other?" Lt. Disher asked, finally speaking up from his position to the captain's right. "How do you know about this?"

"My son's friend, Todd, was in the park when his dog was shot," Sharona explained. "He came to us for help."

"Todd Masters?" Stottlemeyer asked. Sharona nodded her head. "Yeah, he was the latest one. Honestly we don't have a lot to go on." He noticed the annoyed look that spread across Corson's face. "But cases with very little evidence are Monk's specialty, Mr. Corson. He's the best private detective in the city."

"I'll do my best," Monk said. After Sharona had stopped petting her, Poochie had turned to stare at Monk. The two of them were currently in a staring match. Poochie licked her chops and Monk cringed. Then he forced himself to look at Stottlemeyer. "Do you have the murder weapon?"

"No," he replied. "But we do know that all the bullets came from the same rifle."

"So, it's the same person who shot all four dogs," Sharona said. "Were they all shot in the same place, too?"

"No, all four dogs were shot in different locations throughout the city. One was shot in the owner's back yard," Disher answered.

"And Todd's was in the park," Monk said. "Where were the other two?"

"One was a stray shot by Ghirardelli Square," Disher answered. "The other one was shot near the 4th District Fire Station."

"A Dalmation?" Monk asked with a smirk.

"Poodle," Disher replied.

"That the case file?" Sharona asked, pointing to a file on Stottlemeyer's desk. He nodded his head and she grabbed it.

"Just have Lisa make copies of it for you," Stottlemeyer said. He turned his attention back to Corson, who had been oddly silent ever since he had been informed Monk was on the case. "Is there anything else we can do for you, Mr. Corson?"

Corson looked up, almost appearing startled by the captain's voice. Monk noticed that. "Um, no, Captain," he said. "Well, we should go." He turned, patted his thigh and called Poochie. Then the two of them moved quickly out of the office.

"That was weird," Sharona said, watching Corson and Poochie leave. "Guy's a little high strung."

"You have no idea," Stottlemeyer said.

"He's been calling the office ever since the first shooting," Disher added. "Today he finally decided to pay a personal visit."

"Ever since the first shooting?" Monk asked. Disher nodded his head. Monk glanced toward the door, mulling over his own thoughts.

"So we should probably get going, Adrian," Sharona said, not noticing Monk's thoughtful gaze. "Check out the crime scenes."

"Sure," Monk said. He absently turned to Stottlemeyer. "Thanks for the help."

"No problem," the captain said.

While they waited for Lisa to copy the case file, Monk messed with the items on Lisa's desk, trying to make it all at right angles. Sharona watched him and shook her head.

"Adrian, knock it off," she said.

"Just need everything to be square," he said as he moved a stapler. As he reached for the tape dispenser, Sharona grabbed his hand. Everybody in the vicinity looked over when Monk quickly jerked his hand away and cried out loudly. Disher and Stottlemeyer rushed to the doorway of the captain's office to see what the commotion was about. Sharona was just as startled as everyone else.

"What is the matter with you?" she asked. He had never recoiled from her like that before.

"You touched the dog," Monk said quietly. Sharona stared at him like he had grown a second head. "You touched Poochie."

Disher and Stottlemeyer went back into the office, and everyone else went back to what they were doing. Sharona stared at Monk a little longer and then dug in her purse for one of Monk's wipes.

"I don't know why I put up with you," she muttered as she wiped off her hands. Monk smiled sheepishly and they continued to wait for Lisa to return with their copy of the case file.