Monk looked over the evidence report as they drove to the Shaw's home. He had only glanced briefly at it once, having relied on Disher reading it before they picked up Sharona. He had berated himself for not reading it sooner. Disher was a good cop, but he wasn't the most thorough sometimes. There was a reason the two of them were partnered together.

"Water," he said, looking at the information about the syringe. Disher glanced over, an expression of confusion spreading across his face.

"What?"

"There were traces of water in the syringe," Monk said. "How did it get there?"

"Maybe she rinsed it out," Disher suggested.

"Why would she do that?"

Disher didn't respond as he parked in front of the Walsh's home. They walked up to the door together. Monk noticed the workers were gone. He assumed they were on a lunch break. Disher rang the doorbell and Michael Shaw opened the door.

"Mr. Shaw, this is my partner, Inspector Disher," Monk said. "We have a few more questions."

"Kathy's not here," he said.

"Actually, our questions are for you," Monk said. "Can we come in?"

Michael stepped aside and followed Monk and Disher to the living room. He sat on the sofa, Disher sat in an armchair and Monk remained standing, pacing near the fireplace.

"Why didn't you tell me how your wife became a deaf-mute?" Monk asked. Michael said nothing.

"Her brother told us what happened when she was sixteen," Disher said, prompting Michael.

"I didn't think it was relevant," he replied. "And I couldn't bring it up around Kathy."

"From what your brother-in-law said, it sounds like that was quite the turning point with her and her father," Monk said. He straightened a framed, eight-by-ten photograph of Michael and Kathleen on the mantel. "And for her and you."

"I know what you're thinking," Michael said. "What kind of ethics is it be married to one of my own patients? Believe me, I have always been completely objective with Kathy's treatment.  And she stopped needing official sessions when she was seventeen. We just kept in touch, and sort of dated. When she turned eighteen I asked her to marry me."

"And what about her father? Why the sudden change in their relationship?" Monk asked as he pushed a candlestick back an inch on the mantel.

"To be perfectly honest, Kathy nearly died and it scared the crap out of Mitch," Michael said.  "Mitch wasn't the most agreeable man, but after the attack he did everything he could to be the best father he could be for her."

"And how much does she remember about the attack?" Disher asked.

"Nothing. We've never figured out whether it's repression or brain damage, but Kathy doesn't remember anything before the time she woke up in the hospital," Michael explained. "That's the main reason her attacker was never arrested."

Monk took note of every word Michael said to think about later. The word 'arrested' stuck out in his mind for some reason.  "So all she knows is what you've told her."

"Yes," Michael answered. "I still don't understand what this has to do with Mitch's murder. You arrested that nurse."

"We did," Monk affirmed.  He stepped away from the mantel and started to head for the door. Disher stood. "Thank you for your time again, Mr. Shaw."

As Disher and Monk walked out the door, Disher just watched his partner. The short conversation had provided more "Monk evidence." What the evidence was, Disher didn't have a clue.

"He knows who attacked his wife," Monk said, finally giving Disher some clue as to where this was going.

"What makes you think that?"

"He just said that Kathleen's memory loss was the main reason her attacker was never arrested," Monk explained. "He said arrested. Most people would say caught."
"I don't get it," Disher said. They both got into the car. Disher waited for an explanation before starting the ignition.

"The only reason her attacker wasn't arrested is because the eye-witness couldn't remember who it was," Monk said. "But everybody knew who it was."

"Who was it?" Disher asked.

"I'm not sure, but I have a pretty good idea," Monk said. "Let's go back to the station."

* * *

Captain Stottlemeyer emerged from his office and stopped in front of Monk's desk, but his star inspector didn't look up from the file he was looking through.

"Monk, would you mind explaining to me why you're looking up twenty-year-old rape cases?" he asked. Disher watched from his desk nearby. He was looking at another file that Monk felt was related to Kathleen Shaw's rape. The more he looked through it, the more he agreed with Monk about Sharona's innocence.

"Kathleen Shaw was raped and severely beaten when she was sixteen," Monk began. "It caused major memory loss, and it also caused her to become a deaf-mute."

"And what does this have to do with Mitchell Vernon?"

Disher took over the explanation, handing a police report to Stottlemeyer. "Mitchell Vernon's wife came to the police several times to report domestic abuse, but eventually every time she would change her mind. She would say she fell or she ran into a door. The same was the case for Kathleen."

"Richard Vernon was the only one who stuck to the story of abuse, but the police never believed him," Monk continued. "But when Kathleen was sixteen, Mitchell Vernon was the one to bring Kathleen into the hospital. He claimed he found her a block away from their home. He didn't call an ambulance or the police when he found her. He took her from the scene to the hospital on his own."

"No evidence of an attack was found where Vernon claims he found her," Disher added. "With past reports, the inspectors on the rape case suspected Vernon, but there was absolutely no evidence to get a warrant."

"What about Richard Vernon? What did he say this time?" Stottlemeyer asked.

"He was at a football game that night at the highschool," Disher replied. "But he told police that he believed his father did it. Although when we talked to him today, he didn't mention it."

"He was concealing a motive," Monk said.

"Maybe you two should bring him in to the station for some further questioning," Stottlemeyer said. Disher stood and put his suit jacket back on.

"What about Fleming?" Monk asked.

"The DA won't drop the charges against her until we get some concrete evidence proving someone else did it," Stottlemeyer replied. "So, why don't you get some of that?"

* * *

Richard Vernon opened the door of his apartment and was confused. "What are you doing here?"

"You talk too much, Richard," Michael said. He walked in the door, his hands in his pockets. "Why did you tell the police about Kathy's attack?"

"They were asking questions about her and dad," he said. "What was I supposed to tell them?"

"Oh, I don't know," Michael replied. "How about a lie? They'll figure out that Mitch was the main suspect in the attack, and then that will lead to motive for either one of us."

"Hey, I was just the man with the plan," Richard said, turning his back on Michael. "If they're led back to anyone, it'll be you. I'm not going down for this."

"Yes, you are," Michael said. He took his hands out of his pockets to reveal they were in latex gloves. He quickly moved forward and wrapped his arms around Richard's neck, putting him in a sleeper hold.

Richard struggled with Michael, pushing backward until they slammed into the door to the apartment. He elbowed Michael in the stomach, but there wasn't enough force to get him to release his hold. Then Michael tripped Richard, forcing him to the floor. Finally, Richard lost consciousness. Michael flipped him over on his back. He pulled a small medicine bottle and a syringe out of his coat pocket. Quickly he administered the injection to his unconscious brother-in-law. Then he made sure Richard's prints were on the syringe and bottle before setting them nearby on the floor and leaving the apartment.

* * *

Monk and Disher stood near the computer while the coroner and forensics did their jobs in Richard Vernon's apartment. The two inspectors were definitely surprised when they found him lying dead on his apartment floor. The coroner stood and approached them, holding evidence bags with the syringe and the medicine bottle.

"Appears to be a morphine overdose," he said. "Forensics got some prints off the syringe. Probably his. He hasn't been dead long."

Disher took the evidence bags and looked at the contents. Monk shook his head. "He didn't do this to himself."

Monk looked at some of the things on the desk. There was a stack of notebooks and binders on a shelf. He put on some gloves and took them down. At the bottom of the stack was a photo album, which Monk began to flip through. There was a picture of Kathleen and Michael near the back. He suddenly had an idea and pulled the picture out of the album.

"Randy, question the neighbors," he said. He pointed to the album. "See if you can find another picture of Michael Shaw in there. I've got an idea."

"What is it?" Disher asked, taking the album from Monk. But he didn't respond as he quickly left the apartment. Disher sighed and started looking through the album for another picture of Michael Shaw.