Mr Monk and the Accident Chapter Eleven: Summation, a monk fanfic

Chapter Eleven - Summation

Benjy was watching the NBA semi-finals on television when Adrian and Sharona arrived. Sharona went to him and kissed him noisily on his cheek, his response was the usual swipe and grimace. Adrian smiled, a few years earlier his reaction might have been exactly the same, but for different reasons. Germs definitely trumped adolescent embarrassment in the hierarchy of his teenage years…and germs trumped nearly everything else in his adulthood.

"Hi," Adrian said with a brief wave.

"Hi Mom, Mr. Monk. What's up?"

"Benjy, I'm not sure how to tell you this…" Adrian paused with a frown of consternation.

Benjy frowned. "Just tell it, Mr. Monk."

"Well, first, I want to say thank you for convincing me to take your mother out last night." Sharona smiled. She knew he'd been up to something when she left yesterday. Good to see her Benjy-instincts were still in tune. Apparently her son and her … her lover… she smiled again at the idea, had discussed some aspect of last night before it had happened. Benjy must know how Adrian feels, she mused. He seems okay with it. That relieved her, even though she had been certain he'd be happy about the change in their relationship. She'd have to have a heart-to-heart with him when they were through with this case and he was feeling up to it. Adrian continued, "We're here because we need your help to solve a case."

"Cool!" Benjy exclaimed. "What case?" Adrian threw Sharona a glance over his shoulder. He was telling her to answer Benjy.

"Your case, honey," Sharona said simply.

"Really? You know what happened?"

Adrian replied, "Sort of. I'm just not sure about these." He laid the copies of the 4 notes on Benjy's tray table. Benjy looked at them with surprise. "What is it Benjy?" Adrian asked when he saw the boy's expression.

"That's weird."

"Weird? How?" His mother asked.

Benjy reached over to his bedside table and said, "I found this under my pillow when I woke up this morning." He placed a folded yellow sheet of paper next to the white

copies on his tray table. Adrian poked it with his ubiquitous pen and was able to see the square, regular handwriting that said "Benjy" on the cover of the folded sheet of paper.

"Do you recognize the handwriting, Benjy?" Adrian asked as he prodded the note open again. The letter "e" glared up at him from the inside of the open note.

"I might. It's pretty much the same as Mrs. Hardaway taught way back in third grade. Lots of kids write this way."

"So you're saying this could be from someone you know? A kid your age?"

"Sure."

"Can you be more specific?" Adrian probed.

"Nah… I don't look at peoples' writing – except my own."

"You never pass notes in school?" Sharona recalled several phone calls on this subject from various teachers over the years.

"Well, yeah, we used to – not in a long time, though," Benjy replied angelically.

"Benjy now isn't the time to cover for someone or for yourself," she said sternly.

"I'm not. We IM now or we text message each other. We don't get into as much trouble that way." She'd forgotten that feature on the cell phone she'd given him. The cell phone that was supposed to be for "emergencies only."

"You still shouldn't be doing that. No wonder you're failing math"

"Can we get back on the topic?" Adrian asked with dismay at the departure from the subject.

"Sure, Adrian, sorry." She smiled vibrantly at him and he almost lost his train of thought again. He sighed audibly and turned back to Benjy.

"Wow…I didn't get it before, but now it kinda makes sense," Benjy nodded as he looked at the five pieces of paper in front of him.

"Well, now the five notes spell 'horse,' and I still don't get it," Monk said with frustration.

Apologetically, Benjy said, "You sort of have to know about playground games, Mr. Monk. Not to mention basketball."

"Which is why I came to you, Benjy," Adrian said partly with resignation, partly with a sense of pride.

"Well, it's a basketball game."

"What is?"

"H.O.R.S.E. "Benjy spelled it out. "We play it and we also use the 'code' for practically everything."

"Okay, two more questions," Adrian said seriously, "What kind of game is it and who is 'we'?"

"Well, the 'we' is me, Matt, Stephen, Charlie, TJ, and Mitch." Adrian shrugged uncomfortably; the truth was going to hurt Benjy in a completely different way than had the accident. "The game of H.O.R.S.E. is a game of one-on-one, Mr. Monk." Adrian nodded and remained silent, hoping the boy would have more to contribute. He did.

"All of the shots on the basket in H.O.R.S.E. have to be from far away or be very difficult with a huge possibility of missing the backboard. If you miss you get a letter. That means, the first time you miss, you get an 'H,' the second time, an 'O', and on and on until you spell out 'H.O.R.S.E.' and you're out. In our game, after the first two play, the next two play, and then the last two. When there are three left we play it three ways and there's one champion. It usually ends up being me Stephen and Mitch at the end. We kinda use the code it for all kinds of stuff now. Like races, homework, getting yelled at by teachers…besides the actual game."

Just a few short sentences from Benjy had given clarity to the thoughts colliding in his head. "Benjy, who took your place on the team when you couldn't play basketball this year?"

"Mitch Munroe"

"Sharona, call the Captain." Without a word, with her brows knit in confusion, she pressed the speed dial on her cell phone, no hesitating, no second-guessing and connected with Stottlemeyer after just one ring.

On his end, Stottlemeyer looked at the caller ID and poked the answer button on his phone forcefully. "Sharona?"

"Hi Captain, can you speak with Adrian?"

"Of course." Sharona handed the phone to Adrian who took it without flinching for the first time she could ever remember. He hated speaking on the telephone.

"Hi. Leland. It's me. Adrian. Adrian Monk." He walked into the hall and Sharona trailed after him.

Stottlemeyer rolled his eyes. "I know it's you, Adrian. What have you got?"

"Captain, I know who hit Benjy, and I know why."

Stottlemeyer responded with his usual, "Are you sure, Monk?"

"I could be wrong, but, you know… I'm not." Monk replied with more cool than usual, and Stottlemeyer could hear Sharona in the background.

"He's sure, he's sure!"

Adrian asked, "Can you find and pick up the following people and bring them – separately – to the station?" He gave Stottlemeyer a startlingly long list of names, some of whom were juveniles.

"Some of these people are kids, Monk."

"I know. You can bring their parents with them. They aren't in any trouble. I just want to know what they know."

An hour later, Adrian paced behind the two-way mirror. Sharona was certain that the SFPD would have to replace the tile at the end of these interrogations. On either side of the observation room were two stark and unwelcoming interrogation rooms. Disher leaned against the mirror in interrogation room one, arms folded menacingly over his chest in what Adrian thought of as a weird homage to Disher's mentor and boss, Stottlemeyer. Disher was not alone. In the room were Benjy's best friends, Charlie, Stephen and Matt, and their parents. Also present was TJ, one of Benjy's two "peripheral" friends as Adrian thought of this boy and Mitch Munroe. This "fifth" boy in the group of teens was also accompanied by his parents. Conspicuous only in absence was the "sixth wheel" of the group, Mitch, and his parents. That was because Mitch's mother was somewhere else.

On the opposite side, in interrogation room two, Stottlemeyer stood in the original version of the "menacing-arms-folded-over-chest-pose" and looked down on Alison Willis. Alison Munroe. Whatever, Adrian thought impatiently. It all spelled attempted murder.

She seemed to be playing it with complete and utter detached calm, yet, as only Adrian observed, with anger glittering in her eyes. "Come on Captain, what's this all about? I told your officers, your Lieutenant, and that consultant detective everything I know. More than once."

"Yes, humor me. I'd like to hear it in person." She recounted her story – her lies, Adrian scowled, and turned back to see how Disher was progressing. He clicked the switch to change back to the audio from interrogation room number one. He resumed pacing.

Adrian watched as Disher tried, without much success, to impress upon the youngsters in the room, and their parents, how cooperating could help their friend and his family. "It could help put a criminal in jail," he said, "and help protect your friend Benjy and his family." With that, one of the boys, Stephen, turned to look pleadingly at his father, who frowned at him. Apparently, Benjy's friend had more compassion than the person raising him did, yet he remained silent in deference to his father's wishes.

Adrian began to pace again. His instincts were in overdrive. He knew who sent the notes, but was waiting for confirmation. They had been able to surreptitiously lift fingerprints from three of the kids in the room because Sharona had retrieved their candy wrappers from Benjy's hospital garbage pail. It was a good thing that although the four "core" boys in the group were fast friends, their taste in candy ran to different extremes. He had a new Twix, Snickers, Crunch, and two other candy bars – a Milky Way and a Three Musketeers - in his pocket waiting for the opportune moment to play "good cop" to Randy's "moderately dumb" cop. The Milky Way wrapper had been Benjy's; Adrian had this fact memorized even without Benjy's input or fingerprints. Years of experience and observation made him well-aware of Benjy's likes, dislikes, and needs. What he needed most was a father. So today, today, Adrian was going to be just that – the father Benjy needed. Standing up and protecting what was his… at least emotionally. He patted his pocket to make sure the candy was still there.

Just as if someone had read his mind, a young female officer, God, is she even eighteen, Adrian wondered with worry, brought him the results of the fingerprint matches. "There."

The one word conjured all kinds of emotions in Sharona. Mostly, she felt relief. She trusted him, she believed in him, and she had faith in him… but she was still afraid that he'd been so emotionally involved in this case, just like the investigation into Trudy's death, that he might not be able to solve it. The thought of another unsolved case on his mind had made her fear for his sanity. The relief coursed through her and she tingled with the anticipation of the summation.

"They have a match. The Twix bar."

"Stephen," she said. It confirmed his earlier observation about the boy's desire to cooperate and help. He'd been helping all along.

"Yes, but let's put it to the test." He walked out of the room and she waited and watched as the door opened in interrogation room one and he reappeared in the doorway.

Collectively, the boys sighed in relief. They knew Monk was Benjy's hero; he would take care of them. It was obvious to Sharona on the other side of the glass that they felt calmer in his presence than they did in Disher's. That in itself was a miracle – one she'd have to impress upon Adrian later on after this was over.

Politely, Adrian made his way into the room and greeted the people he knew by name, and nodded to the rest as he was introduced. He said," I brought some snacks… I know you guys like chocolate…" He reached into his pocket; the boys tore into their favorites immediately. Adrian had gotten lucky; TJ liked one of the extra candy bars. While they were happily munching, he took the opportunity to catch them off guard.

"So," he said to no one in particular. "We're close to making an arrest. The person who hit Benjy will be going to jail for attempted murder.

"Is that why you brought us here?" one of the anxious fathers asked. "To tell us that there's been progress?"

"No, no. I mean yes. Well, no, no… not exactly." Sharona winced as the people in the room grew visibly frustrated with Adrian.

"What do you mean Mr. Monk?" Charlie asked curiously.

"What I mean Charlie, is I need your help. Someone here has been sending us clues, trying to help us, without letting us know who he is. That was really great, but no one in this room is going to get into trouble for telling the truth. If someone here knows what happened the day of Benjy's accident, please tell us now." Silence met his remarks. "If you'd rather not tell me, you can tell Lieutenant Disher here. I'll leave you so you feel more comfortable."

It was Sharona's turn to be frustrated. As Adrian reentered the observation lounge she punched the speaker button on the other interrogation room. The first room was silent anyway, except for some whispering amongst the boys and their parents. "God, they're scared," she said as he came to stand behind her.

"Yeah, but she isn't. Look at how cool she acts, and yet, her eyes are angry."

She turned to him, "You're sure it's her?"

"Well, it's her, or she's covering for someone."

"Who?"

"Let's find out." He turned on his heel and walked out the door once again.

Sharona stood her ground and waited for Adrian's brand of quiet fireworks to erupt next door.

"Hi Captain, how's it going in here?" he whispered loud enough so that both Alison and Sharona heard him.

"Not much progress… how about you?" Stottlemeyer responded in a similar tone.

"Well," Adrian said conspiratorially, "The boys seem ready to crack. Someone knows something. I just fed them chocolate, maybe they'll open up to Disher now. One of them has been sending the notes."

Alison's eyes dilated with fear and anger, and the change didn't go unnoticed by Adrian or Stottlemeyer.

Brazenly, Alison said, "Can I go now?"

Stottlemeyer and Adrian turned to look at her as though just realizing that she was there at all.

"Now why would you want to leave all of this?" Stottlemeyer said as he gestured around the room.

"Funny. Then if you're going to hold me I want a lawyer."

"Well, you might want to save us all some time and tell us what we want to know, Ms. Willis…I mean Mrs. Munroe," Adrian said quietly. "Did you repair the car that hit Benjy Fleming?"

"I'm through repeating myself."

"Okay, well maybe you'll just want to listen, then. Here's what I believe happened…" He shrugged, tilted his head, and continued with an innate confidence he didn't realize he possessed. Sharona watched and saw the same self-assurance that he always displayed at the end of a case return to his face and his stance. He didn't realize how "alright" he truly was. He just needed to find a way to feel that confidence all the time.

"You have a son, Mrs. Munroe. A son who is competitive, but alas, not the best at his favorite sport." Adrian thought back to the various basketball games he'd attended over the years where he saw Mitch bested by Benjy at tryouts and during games. "Benjy Fleming out-ran, out-scored, and out-played your son in every aspect of their chosen sport. As a matter of fact, last month I watched him deliberately trip Benjy so he could capture the ball and the glory. He missed the basket – a shot Benjy could have made with one arm tied behind his back, according to the crowd and the amount of grief Mitch took from the other kids on the tryout team…which I overheard. " Behind the glass, Sharona could picture the scene as Adrian continued to paint with words. "It was simple really. Mitch thought that in order to be number one, he'd have to get rid of Benjy. But he needed help.

"I checked into a few avenues while this case was on-going, Mrs. Munroe… or would you prefer to be called Ms. Willis? Never mind. It doesn't matter, where you're going they'll simply call you by a number. Yes, I looked into your family. Your father isn't dead the way you'd have the world believe. He's in prison at San Quentin for auto insurance fraud and a variety of other state and federal crimes." Sharona gasped behind the wall of glass. Adrian hadn't told her that piece of information.
"So you, see we've been looking a little more closely at Al's Auto Appeal for other reasons, but I didn't realize it would bring me right back to the solution to this case."
Stottlemeyer looked on, fascinated as always at what Adrian could string together. The most obscure piece of information, the weirdest clues… he turned back in as Adrian continued his summation. "Today, something struck me. Your son didn't like not being number one, but he also didn't like you not being number one. His father is a notorious womanizer, yet he married you. I couldn't figure out why until I was reminded that he managed the shop for your father, and he probably knew everything that went on. He married you to get a piece of the action, so to speak, while he continued to live the life of a bachelor. He came on to Benjy's mother, my assistant…" he paused and smirked conspiratorially at the mirror, knowing Sharona could see him, "…constantly. At the kids' ball games, in the parking lot. One day I saw how irritated and upset your son got about it, and I felt sorry for him. Having a father who treats his mother disrespectfully in her absence has got to be difficult for an adolescent boy who idolizes his mother." Alison sat silently, eyes downcast. "So he came to you, miserable. And being his mother, you wanted to do what you could to help him get ahead and to get rid of Benjy, and by extension, his attractive mother in one fell swoop."

"Wow," said Sharona and Stottlemeyer simultaneously.

Stottlemeyer came out of his daze and said, "Alison Willis Munroe, you are under arrest for the attempted premeditated murder of Benjy Fleming, as well as several indictable counts of insurance frauds."

As Stottlemeyer was reading Alison her rights, Adrian turned and put his hand up to the mirror. He touched the cool glass and peered, unseeing, towards Sharona. She held her hand up to his, separated by a mere quarter-inch of glass, she could feel his love and she smiled at him although he couldn't see her. Suddenly the door to interrogation room two flew open. Startled, Adrian dropped his hand and turned to the noise. There stood Mitch, his thirteen-year-old fury and fear apparent on his face.
"No! What are you doing?"

"Mitch, you're going to have to wait outside. We're talking to your mother."

"Mitch, do as Mr. Monk says. Call your father."

Mitch saw the handcuffs on her wrists. "No. No. You can't take her. She didn't do anything. It was me. It was me!" Tears streamed down his cheeks as he lunged for his mother. Suddenly a couple of the more bizarre clues Monk had heard from the eyewitnesses made perfect sense. He recalled what they said, and how now it was clear that they weren't bizarre clues, just unexpected. "There was no one in the car and a very tiny person was driving; I could only see the top of a head with a baseball cap on." No one expected a thirteen-year-old to be driving a car; they'd all just assumed it was an adult they'd been looking for all of this time.

"I hate you, Mr. Monk."

Adrian shrugged he was used to that response from people, especially teenagers. "That may well be, Mitch, but what you did was not only wrong, it was a crime."

"I don't care. Benjy is always in my way and his slut of a mother always has my father looking at her." Adrian bristled at the remark about Sharona, he lifted his hand as if to slap the boy, but Stottlemeyer held him back. Sharona ruefully smiled at Adrian's back through the mirror, my hero. Jealousy was a serious motivator, even in people so young. An officer appeared at the door and handed an envelope to Stottlemeyer. Stottlemeyer called in another officer to escort Mitch to be booked as a juvenile and he called a female officer in to escort Mrs. Munroe to a booking room as well.

"What did I do? Why won't you let me go help my son?" Stottlemeyer looked up from the report in his hands, which Monk was reading over the Captain's shoulder.

"Because, Mrs. Munroe, we executed a search warrant for your shop and your home, including the garage on your property in San Rafael. Guess what they found there?

Yes, a burgundy car with a huge dent on the front right fender and what could be dried blood. We'll know more after forensics gets through with the car."

Adrian shook his head. Jealousy was the motive. Amazing. A weight lifted from his shoulders as he turned towards the door. The case was over. His life had just begun again. He shook his head again. Jealousy. The only time he ever felt that specific emotion was when Sharona had dated other men or had wanted to return to Trevor that time. He recognized it now, as he really hadn't been able to then. He had loved her for so long, that the jealousy had become almost a constant companion for him. No more. As he walked out the door, she was coming towards him from the other room. She looked at him with gratitude and joy and flew into his arms.

"You did it," she whispered.

"Sort of."

"You knew! You knew before Mitch burst in. You knew I saw it in your eyes."

"I did. I really did – it all fell into place when I saw the look in her eyes. It was a look I've seen in your eyes more than once. It was instinct. She was protecting her child."

"So Mitch took the car…"

"Without asking. I overheard the boys telling Benjy about it yesterday. Well, at least telling him about someone who took something without asking."

"He drove…"

"Which explained the weird and varied eye witness accounts. No one expects a child to be driving a car, so the witness statements were skewed."

"He did it to…"

"Get Benjy out of his way once and for all and to get his father to stop looking at you and pay more attention to his mother. They are a family full of charmers. What's that saying? 'Blood will out.'"

"I've always liked 'the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.'"

"Well, let's go see your apple." He kissed the tip of her nose.

"Our apple," she corrected. Adrian's heart expanded with even more happiness. "After we tell Randy and the other kids and their parents what happened."

"All right. After that."

It was late …or early, depending upon which half-glass theory you subscribed to. Half-empty? Half-full? His glass was far more than half-full today. In fact, if he hadn't been thoroughly appalled by the image, he'd say his cup was overflowing. Saturday had lasted an eternally, mostly wonderfully, long time. From spending most of the previous night, morning, and early afternoon in bed, but not sleeping, to the visit to Benjy to figure out the letter clues, to the police station, interrogation, summation, and finally the arrests, it had become early Sunday morning at last. Adrian grinned over at Sharona while she watched the elevator's display tick the floor numbers as they descended, thrilled to have finally resolved the case. Apparently, making love with Sharona was as good as vacuuming to help open the channels of his deeply complex thought process. It certainly was better than vacuuming overall, he thought while his wicked grin widened and his exceptional mind decided he should return to the task he'd abruptly abandoned the day before.

They were riding down on the elevator side by side. Sharona's hand was caught in his, a companionable silence between them. He rubbed her hand with his thumb and she looked up and returned his smile. Suddenly, a spark of mischief entered his eyes and he pushed her very gently against the side of the elevator, against the reflective, but dully burnished, metal of the wall. He dropped her hand and placed his on either side of her head, flat against the cold metal without flinching or even considering the germs. He looked down into her eyes, deeply, hungrily. She smiled at him and twisted the corner of her mouth in a provocative challenge.

He kissed her softly first, and then as his desire grew, kissed her more deeply, passionately. He crushed her mouth with his in a forceful assault that made her tender lips swell and bruise like overripe peaches. She didn't mind. The elevator stopped and the doors opened, they ignored it. It was so late, or early, that there was very little activity in the police station. Adrian reached out and without looking, pushed the door close button. His hand resumed its place on the side of Sharona's head as he resumed his delicious attack on her mouth. He angled his body against hers to have the maximum impact on her. It worked. She moaned into his mouth and didn't seem to care that they were in a public elevator as she reached for him. She brought him closer to her and held him tightly against her. He broke away from her tempting mouth to tend to the side of her neck.

This intimate moment was what greeted Disher and Stottlemeyer as the elevator doors opened on their floor again, and once again, Adrian and Sharona ignored it. Sharona's head was thrown back to allow Adrian greater access to her neck and the sharp line of her jaw. Both policemen stood looking at the couple in the elevator. Shock, frank interest, and embarrassment crept into each of their minds as they played unwilling voyeurs.

Finally, Leland got hold of his senses and cleared his throat. Adrian broke off from his onslaught of passion and threw a look over his shoulder. Surprised that the door was open and that they weren't on the ground floor, but rather back where they started, only now with an audience, the surreal moment barely fazed him. He smiled as Sharona reached for him again, eyes still closed, carried away on a cloud of lust. He stilled her hands with his and said, "Um…we have an audience." He had the decency to look sheepish but not before he shot a triumphant grin in Randy's direction. He'd finally gotten something that he was certain Disher had wanted for his own. Disher could have his badge; Adrian had something that was so much more important to him now. More important than being a cop could ever be again… he had Sharona's love, which was more important than anything.

Speechless, Disher and Stottlemeyer simply looked from Adrian to Sharona and back. "He was thanking me for helping him solve the case," Sharona said impishly.

"I'm not going to even ask…" Leland said with a huge grin that split his face. Truthfully, he thought that whatever this was, it was about damn time. Disher on the other hand was frowning at the pair like they had committed a crime right there in the elevator and he wanted to drag them down to the cells below and lock them each away – separately.

"I guess our secret didn't last very long," she whispered into Adrian's ear on a nervous laugh.

"No, I guess not," he agreed and put his arm possessively around her waist and drew her closer as they faced their surprised colleagues. Stottlemeyer looked pointedly at Adrian's hand which rode low on Sharona's waist in a gesture that couldn't be mistaken for anything but what it was – protective, loving, intimate.

"Joining us, gentlemen?" Sharona asked in her best nonchalant voice, although she had the decorum to turn bright pink. Stottlemeyer took her up on the invitation but Disher stayed rooted to his spot outside the elevator doors. The three rode with two leaning against the interior sidewalls of the elevator, one perfectly still and straight, not leaning along the rear wall where he'd positioned himself. Facing each other, but looking anywhere but at each other. Finally, they all spoke at once.

"That went well," from Stottlemeyer trying to bridge the awkward silence.

"What's going to happen to Mitch?" from maternal Sharona. Angry, but still human.

"I love her," from a smiling Adrian. They all looked at each other in confusion.

"What?"

"I asked, what's going to happen to Mitch."

"Yeah, I sort of heard you. I was more interested in Adrian's comment," he grinned. "Care to repeat it, Monk?" Two pairs of eyes looked at him expectantly. So as usual, he did the least expected thing. He crossed the short distance between where he stood and Stottlemeyer was waiting eagerly for his response. He raised a hand and pointed at the woman facing them.

"I said, I - I love her." As always, he stressed the wrong word in the simple sentence, yet there was no mistaking his meaning or the feeling behind the words.
"Well, congratulations, Monk, it's about time you figured it out."

"What?" Adrian and Sharona sputtered simultaneously.

Stottlemeyer ignored them and asked, "What about you Sharona? Do you love the hero of this little soap opera?"

"As a matter of fact, I do. What did you mean, 'it's about time?'"

"I mean Karen and I and lots of people have been wondering when you two would wake up. It's been obvious forever… well, at least to the rest of the world."

"We took our time. It was the right thing to do. For both of us."

"It was worth the wait," Adrian blurted, diverting their attention.

"Was it?" Sharona asked, amazed by the sentiment behind the words, astonished at the declaration.

"Without a doubt," he smiled into her eyes and moved towards her. "Earlier would have been too soon, later would have been unbearable, but it was just right – right now." Leland looked at them like a caring father might, pleased that they had "found" each other at long last.

When the elevator doors opened into the underground garage, the three walked out, but two were joined hand to hand.