THREE
"So you finally made it, Monk," Stottlemeyer said as his friend walked into the squad room, "I guess moving in took quicker than I'd expected."
"Oh, I'm not quite finished yet," Adrian said, "I still have to clean out the tub and get the dirt off the walls. I did rearrange all the books alphabetically, though, and the floor's almost done."
"See Fraser, by the time he's done it won't be your apartment anymore," Vecchio cracked from his desk
"I don't mind Ray," Fraser looked up from a list of license plate numbers he'd been going through, "I was going to do a little cleaning of my own, and thanks to Detective Monk my job is now a whole lot easier."
"You're welcome, Constable," Adrian nodded, "So, any luck so far?"
"We're looking through the registry of gray Fords in the Chicago area," Fraser informed the former detective, "Francesca was able to gave us a list of about two thousand within a two hundred mile radius. From my own visuals observations last night, I can narrow the field down somewhat since the car that Mrs. Fleming and her son were taken in was clearly manufactured within the last five years. Currently, I'm down to about five hundred cars after having eliminated certain license plate combinations."
"So you got a look at the plate?" Adrian strode over to the nearest desk and began putting all the papers strewn on it together into one stack.
"A brief enough look," the Mountie said, "The first number was a P or an R, and two of the three numbers were a one and nine."
"That's a good start," Adrian admitted, tapping the stack of papers on the desk until they were all perfectly lined up, "Anyone do any background checks?"
"I called the clinic in New Jersey Sharona's working at now," Stottlemeyer told him, "Maybe she saw something there she shouldn't have. They haven't gotten back to me yet, so I'm wondering if they're covering something up."
"They could be," Adrian picked up a pen and started making notations on the topmost of the papers he'd stacked. "Hey, hey, hey!" Detective Jack Huey came running over, "What the hell do you think you're doing, buddy?"
"You made several grammar mistakes on this report; I was just highlighting them for you," Adrian explained.
Huey snatched it off him. "This was my final report on the arson case I cracked last week!" he shouted, "I can't give it to Welsh like this! I'll get suspended!"
"Well, maybe you could make a backup copy of it?" Adrian suggested.
"Not when you've already fouled up this one!" Huey thundered.
"All right, all right, time to go back to work Detective Monk," Vecchio took Adrian by the hand and led him away. "You know, if you'd made a backup copy of your reports in the first place, these things wouldn't happen," Adrian pointed out to Huey as he left.
"Detective Monk, you can't just go around proofreading everybody's reports!" Vecchio scolded him once they were back around his desk, "Huey's been looking for any excuse to get at me lately, and you're not helping!"
"I just like them to be all perfectly spelled right," Adrian said in self-defense.
Before Vecchio could respond, Disher burst into the squad room. "Everyone, I've just got our first big lead," he announced out loud, "Are you all ready for this?"
There was a pregnant pause while every cop in the room waited for the follow-up that didn't come. Stottlemeyer rolled his eyes. "You could have given us three pieces of info by now, Randy," he told the lieutenant, "What is it?"
"I talked to the Motor Vehicle Pool," Disher told him, "They found a car in Lake Michigan this afternoon. A gray Ford. They found some of Sharona's hair in it."
He held out a photograph of the car in question. Stottlemeyer took it and looked it over. "Constable Fraser, does this car look about right to you?" he asked, holding it up for the Mountie to see.
"Yes, I can say with near certainty that this is the car used in the abduction," Fraser nodded, "License plate RCW139."
"There's more," Disher added. Another long wait followed. "Is it your job to hold us all in suspense like this?" Vecchio complained, "Just tell us for the love of God!"
"They did a trace on the car," Disher said, "It belongs to an Amanda Graystone, 447 Upper Wacker."
"Amanda Graystone," Adrian mused. "You ever heard of her, Monk?" Stottlemeyer asked him.
"No," Adrian shook his head, "Sharona never mentioned anyone by that name. We should bring her in."
"Actually she's already been brought in," Disher said, "Apparently we're not the only ones on this case."
"What do you mean…?" Vecchio's gazed turned to Welsh's office just as the lieutenant popped out and said, "Vecchio, you and your social group have some visitors." "Oh crap, Ford and Deeter!" Vecchio groaned, noticing the all-too-familiar FBI agents camped out inside.
"Old friends?" Adrian asked.
"You wish," Vecchio shook his head, "Well, let's all get this over with."
Everyone walked into the office. "Well well, I see you boys are just starved for attention again," the Chicago detective said sarcastically to his old foes.
"As I see you are, Detective Vecchio," Agent Ford snorted. His gaze turned upward as a loud squeaking sound filled the office. "Detective Adrian Monk, I don't believe we've formally met," the FBI man said.
"Hi, I'm Adrian, Adrian Monk," Adrian told them, "Sorry, there's a dirt smudge here, if I could just get…"
"Please, Detective Monk, have a seat," Welsh pointed to the nearest open one. Adrian shrugged and sat down. "As we were going to say," Deeter continued for his partner, "We've been assigned to work the Fleming case by Washington. As such, I should point out that we now have final say over you and your band of merry men here dig up. Out of the sheer goodness of our hearts, we'll give you autonomy in what you do, but you will give any and all information you find immediately to us."
"Now wait a minute," Stottlemeyer raised his hand, "We were brought in with the explicit notion by Lieutenant Welsh here that we would have free reign in…"
"What you heard was wrong, Captain," Ford cut him off, "And let me just say right now that you'd better keep you dear good friend Mr. Monk here in check, because if you don't, I'll throw him and you into a jail cell that's just completely dirt-ridden."
"Now as for the suspect," Deeter picked up, "We've been talking with Amanda Graystone for an hour now. She says she was at her nightclub going through her routine…"
"Routine?" Adrian asked.
"You don't want to know, Monk," Stottlemeyer whispered in his ear.
"Going through her routine," Ford said roughly, "She does have witnesses who can back that up, but we figure she's protecting someone else. We'll get to the bottom of this soon, as long as all of you just stay out of our way. Are there any questions?"
"Uh, excuse me, can I fix your tuxedo, you missed a button there," Adrian pointed out. Ford pointed an accusing finger at him. "Touch me and you lose your arm," he said threateningly, "We've heard all about you at the agency, Mr. Monk. Plus your commissioner was gracious enough to show us your files when we called him up. He was quite insightful. About how you're an unstable accident just waiting to happen.
"Well, Commissioner Brooks is still upset that I revealed he's bald when…" Adrian tried to explain.
"We're warning you right now, Mr. Monk," Ford threatened him, "Don't you dare cross paths with us, or you'll regret it."
"Now look here you…!" Stottlemeyer rose to his feet.
"Sit down Captain, or we'll book you for contempt!" Deeter warned.
"Now all of you, please," Fraser raised his arms, "We're all on the same side of the law here. Surely we can put aside our petty differences and focus on getting Mrs. Fleming and her son home safely, which is the primary concern here after all."
"And that's what we're going to do," Ford said, "We've got a witness waiting." As he and Deeter left, he told Vecchio, "And by the way, your files on Mrs. Fleming better be here on your boss's desk when we finish, or you're in contempt."
Vecchio stuck out his tongue at them when their backs were turned. "Lieutenant, how did…?" he asked Welsh.
"Sorry Vecchio, I had no say," Welsh told him, "They came in before they could do anything."
"Great, so now we've got to share whatever we find with those bozos!" the Chicago cop grumbled.
"Of course, we could always feed them an entirely different story of what we find and still do the work," Disher proposed.
"While an interesting thought, Lieutenant Disher, I'm afraid that would be illegal," Fraser pointed out, "And I would feel honor bound to report it."
"Well, we do have the location where they ditched the getaway car," Stottlemeyer pointed out, "Let's go there and see if we can find anything there."
"Works for me, but first there's something I have to do," Adrian rose and started working on the smudge again. "Detective Monk," Welsh told him, "I like my smudges the way they are. If you want to clean them down, work on your own smudges."
"Right, I think I got it though," Adrian held it up for Welsh to see. Welsh nodded slightly, then turned back to his newspaper.
"Diefenbaker," Fraser called out for the wolf, looking around the squad room.
"He's over here, Mr. Fraser," Natalie called from the corner, "He's been staring at me like I'm some bone for the last half hour or so."
"My apologies, Miss Teeger," Fraser bowed humbly, "You see, there were few blondes in the village where he grew up, and such since he's come south, he's been transfixed by them. Diefenbaker, I told you not to bother Miss Teeger," he bent down and looked his pet in the eye, "Now let's go out to the car; I'm going to need you to look for evidence down by the lake."
"He didn't lick anything did he?" Adrian asked Natalie, "I could clean it up for you if you'd want."
"No, he didn't lick me," Natalie said, "You must be thrilled, have to bunk with a wolf as long as we're here."
"Oh no, I'm good with it," Adrian lied, "Probably won't see too much of him—how was Julie?"
"Fine, fine," his assistant said as they followed the others toward the door, "Are you all right? You're never this social."
"Oh, never better. The federal agents threatened me, but that's old news; been threatened all my life. Let's hope they left enough evidence for us to use when they dumped the getaway car."