"I know who sent you the pigeon's head" Monk said suddenly, as everyone stared at him.

"Are you just saying that so I won't fire you?" Charlie asked doubtfully. The possibility had been on his mind since Monk had come into the apartment and erased the vital equations.

"On your second day of work, I called you in the morning." Monk began, but stopped when he noticed that Charlie had stray hairs over his right ear. "Could you, put your hair behind your right ear?"

Sighing, Charlie complied.

"In the background I heard someone say 'Want some paella, Charlie? Frank made it.' " Monk continued as he picked lint off of Don's shirt.

"So?" Charlie couldn't see where the sleuth was going.

"For most people, bringing Paella to work would be too expensive, unless, they made it themselves." Monk began. "Being it's such a complex dish, it's the kind of thing only someone serious about cooking would attempt to make for several people on workday when he would have to probably have to stay up all night to have it ready in the morning."

"Sounds like a gourmet." Don commented. "and like the kind of guy who would buy a set of Wustof Trident knives."

"And know how to use them" Monk added.

TBC