"Believe me, gentlemen, I'm as surprised as anyone that Manny Nast would do such a thing as steal our waste," Ertley told them the next afternoon, "He's always been a model employee during his time here."
"That's one of the reasons we think he's innocent," came Adrian's voice through the multiple gas masks he'd once again donned before entering the Howard nuclear plant. The general manager looked him over in amazement. "I guess one can never prepare too much to come to a place like this," he said, taking a bite out of yet another O Henry bar.
"It was a tough choice to come," Adrian admitted, "After all, I only have twenty oxygen tanks left."
"Well, I think you're simply trying to find more coins from the pot of gold, gents, I see no further reason to continue this…" Ertley started to say, but then Jerry ran in. "Uh, Mr. Ertley, bad news," he said breathlessly, "Someone's still taking the waste out."
"They're what?" Ertley's expression went south.
"We did another check just now; two more barrels have lost up to seventy percent of their waste over the last three days," Jerry told him.
"Oh boy, ooooh boy," Ertley ran off with his top technician. Adrian turned to Stottlemeyer. "Like I said, there's no way Manny could keep doing this when he's in custody," he said between deep oxygen breaths, "And taking into account how much waste has been stolen, and how it's being stolen, the thefts would have started when he was still in the asylum."
"OK, yeah, I think you're right, Monk," Stottlemeyer conceded, "He is innocent. But how come his prints are on the vials?"
"I'm still working on that," Adrian said, stacking files on Ertley's desk in a way that they were all perfectly lined up, "There's got to be some kind of rational explanation."
"Captain," Disher entered the office, "I got in touch with the state federal investigation office. Chief Richard Taylor was working in conjunction with the feds. It seems the governor's office received a threatening letter from Caucasian Provinces a few months ago."
"Caucasian Provinces? Those white supremacist creeps that attacked those buildings in Chicago?"
"One and the same," Disher said, "It seems they're threatening to launch a major attack somewhere here in the state unless all Mexican immigrants are expelled from the state immediately."
"Ouch," Adrian commented, pushing in some of the books on Ertley's shelves so they were as lined up as could be, "They're not having a merry Christmas, are they?"
"The disappearance of the waste here isn't all," Disher went on grimly, "A lab in San Diego had several containers of anthrax stolen in October, and Edwards Air Force Base reported the disappearance of a huge stockpile of explosives and arms. The worst part is, they still haven't got any leads as to who exactly these people are."
"So Chief Taylor did know?" Stottlemeyer inquired.
"The attorney general says he called at the beginning of the week to say he was almost certain he knew who the mastermind was, but he needed a few more days to get positive proof on the perpetrator."
"And the perp wasn't going to wait to be fingered, so he poisoned the punch to take him out, but the guy he trusted the job with sent it to the school by accident," Stottlemeyer reasoned, "After which he probably chewed the guy out and resolved to do it himself, which he did. Good, at least now we know who exactly we're dealing with here."
"I should probably mention we're on the clock," Disher sounded darker than ever, "They're keeping it a secret so the public doesn't panic, but Caucasian Provinces says they'll detonate on Christmas Eve if their demands aren't met. And they're pretty sure it's going to happen here, since the original threatening letter came from the metro area here."
Drastic silence filled the room. Ertley came running back in. "You cops better take a look at this again; I don't know how the hell we keep losing this stuff!" he cried.
"Well, back to the old radiation suits," the captain said, "Hold down the fort till we get back, Monk."
'Got it," Adrian made some hand measurements and rearranged the angels on either end of Ertley's desk so they were equidistant from each other. No sooner had the police left than the women entered the office; they'd gone off searching around the plant. "Anything?" the detective asked them.
"Have you been thinking about Don Wiley the guard as a suspect?" Natalie asked him.
"Not yet," Adrian said, "What did you find?"
"Only that he's got a one-way plane ticket to Karachi on his desk; it leaves in a couple of days; why would he not book a flight back?" she pointed out.
"You didn't tell me you found that!" Sharona griped, "I thought we had an agreement we'd share information!"
"You were checking out the reactor at the time," Natalie told her. It didn't make Adrian feel any better to see Sharona looking more jealous than ever. "I've got bad news," he told them to stop a fight from breaking out, "Whoever the guilty party is, they're planning a major terrorist attack here."
"What?" both women gasped. Adrian related to them what Disher had related to him. "So we'd better find out who it is soon, or a lot of people are going to get roasted," he said solemnly. They stared blankly at him until Stottlemeyer returned a few moments later, all suited up. "Good, you're back," he addressed the women, "Get suited; we've got more to look at; Monk, come on, I need someone with your eyes on this."
Adrian slowly bounded up the hall after him…so slowly, in fact, that Stottlemeyer was reluctantly forced to drag his compatriot along by the arm. "Not, not too hard, you'll stretch the fibers," Adrian protested.
They arrived at the waste storage area. "So, what do you see?" he asked impatiently, "I want to stop this here and now."
"Give him a minute," Stottlemeyer held up his hand, "Detective Monk needs to get in his zone."
"Yeah, got to get in the zone," Adrian walked around the room, "Don't want to commit a zoning violation." He stared at several barrels now marked with an X. "These have lost content?" he asked Don the guard over by the door.
"That's them," Don said. Adrian noticed an evasive look in the guard's eye, as if he wanted to hide something. "What security measures if any have you added since we were here two days ago?" he asked next.
"Check it out," Don waved him outside, "This is a hand scanner," he pointed to a rectangular square on the wall, "Only authorized personnel will be accepted inside. If they wear gloves to try and dupe it, we installed this," he gestured at a circle above the door, "It give a retinal eye scan to verify their identity."
"Since retinal eye patterns are as unique as fingerprints," Adrian nodded, "Good thought, great thought…and your badge is crooked."
He straightened it out for Don. "Thank you," the guard told him with a bizarre expression on his face.
"Just who are considered authorized personnel?" Disher asked.
"We've managed to narrow the list down to a little over a dozen people," Don said, "Mostly guards like myself. It must be someone among them who's stealing it."
"We'd like a copy of the list if you have it," Stottlemeyer told him.
"I can make a copy if you'd like," Don bustled off. A hustle of footsteps announced the arrival of Natalie and Sharona. "Did we miss anything?" the former asked.
"Not much really; whoever the thief is, they know the security functions of this room inside and out," Adrian said.
"I'm going to have to hire new security," Ertley shook his head, "People from the outside who I can trust."
"Which means more of our pension funds get sucked down the drain, I suppose?" Angela Moreno had been eavesdropping. Ertley rolled his eyes. "I said breaks were in the other wing here!" he said with barely restrained ire.
"He took out of our pension plans when he ran for mayor last year," Angela complained to the police, "Without telling any of us!"
"For the last time, I did NOT touch your union's slush funds!" Ertley bellowed, "Now don't you have a job to do?"
Angela turned to leave, but shouted over her shoulder at the cops, "I hope whoever is taking this junk keeps it up and sends this company down the tubes!"
"Aye aye aye aye aye!" Ertley put his hand over his face, "Down and night she never stops! It's always, 'this is too bad for me, Mr. Ertley, and this doesn't work!' And I can't fire her due to the special clauses in her contract! If I'd won that election, I'd be rid of the headache!"
"That was the really close race, wasn't it?" Disher asked.
"Yeah," Ertley said, "Lost by only nine hundred votes. I'll try again next year. I've got a good list of civic improvements I think can help San Jose in the long…"
"You wanted me to move the stuff, Mr. Ertley?" Jerry Malcolm had arrived.
"Yeah, go move some of the barrels to the auxiliary vault," Ertley told him, "That's more secure than this one."
"Nice to see you Jerry," Adrian approached him, "Rather sad the funeral, wasn't it?"
"The what?" Jerry said unconvincingly, "Oh, the little girl. Yeah, I know."
"It's a little curious why you'd be there," Natalie spoke up, "As far as I know, you don't know Clarissa or her family. And perhaps you'd like to explain why you ran away from the service?"
"I ran?" Jerry asked nervously, "Look, I looked at my watch and saw I was late for lunch with my wife. I had to book it all the way across town to make it in time."
"Funny," Adrian commented, "Your wife must be quite the hungry type to eat lunch at ten in the morning."
"Uh, well, um, she's, uh, I'd better do what my boss says and get these barrels to safety," Jerry quickly put some on a cart and pushed them out.
"Here's the list," Don came running back with a piece of paper, "I hope this helps."
"It should, thanks a lot," Stottlemeyer took it off him, "Mr. Ertley here mentioned the auxiliary vault; is that as safe as this one?"
"Even safer," Don said, "You need for different code cards to get to the vault, and the main airlock is voice-activated. And is has all of the features of this one included. I can predict there won't be any more thefts on my watch."
"Well, thank you for your time," Adrian shook both his and Ertley's hands, "Natalie, wipe," he held out his hand.
"You're wearing gloves," Natalie pointed out to him. "Oh," Adrian said, glancing at his perfectly safe fingers, "Oh, I'm just so used to it. Well, at any rate, if you have any more problems, Ed, let the captain know."
"I will," Ertley waved to them as they walked back down the hall. "That's strange," the detective stared at the paper Don had given Stottlemeyer, "He clearly has access to the waste during heightened security, but his name's not on this list."
Stottlemeyer scanned it. "You're right," he realized, "But what motive could he have, Monk?'
Adrian glanced back at Sharona, who was lagging behind. "Natalie found a plane…" he whispered in the captain's ear.
"You'll have to speak louder, Monk, I'm not getting that," Stottlemeyer said.
"I can't say it any louder, Captain."
"Why not?"
"Sharona would get upset."
"And you think that…?"
"Captain," Disher whispered loudly. The lieutenant put his finger to his lips and pointed around the corner. They peered around the edge to see an agitated Angela on a cell phone. "…not in a good mood!" she was shouting to someone on the other end, "They've found more waste is leaving this place! What have I to be worried about? How about that they might accuse me of taking it! If Ertley suspects me of anything, he'll call the authorities and have me sent up the river for life! I can't take that chance, just…why don't we just get things in order, and we'll figure out where to go from here, all right?"
She hung up roughly and stormed off, pushing two co-workers in radiation suits aside. "Very interesting,' Adrian breathed, "Very, very interesting."
"You're not going to snap, are you captain?" the detective asked him over the blaring of car horns behind them.
"It's been a half hour," the captain grumbled, "I can see no reason why we have to do this."
"Well, you didn't quite do it right the last time…"
"Answer me this, Monk; how can there possibly be a right and wrong way to go over a speed bump?" Stottlemeyer growled.
"I know the right way, and you did not go over it the right way," Adrian protested, "But you're starting to catch on; I think you'll get it right the next time."
"You've been saying that the last fifteen times I went over the bump!" Stottlemeyer gestured out the window toward the speed bump in question.
"Just once more, Captain?"
Stottlemeyer glanced back at him. "Last time," he said sternly. He reversed over the speed bump, drawing a loud horn blare from the car directly behind him, and drove forward over the bump yet again. "Wait, wait, wait, that wasn't quite right either," Adrian pointed out.
Disher broke up into laughter as his boss applied the brakes yet again. "Monk," he said, rising up in his seat, "We have driven over this speed bump FORTY DAMN TIMES!"
"Forty-three," Adrian corrected him, "They're just so hard…"
The radio suddenly crackled to life. "Captain are you there?" came the voice over the airwaves.
"I'm right here, Cargill; what is it?" Stottlemeyer picked up the receiver.
"Is everyone else there?"
"Yeah, so what is it?"
"All your houses except for Detective Monk's just exploded five minutes ago, including the one Sharona used to live at," Cargill said. Deathly silence filled the car. "What…was it a nuclear blast?" Stottlemeyer asked breathlessly.
"No, conventional explosives," Cargill eased their fears, "But get this; each site had a note left at the scene. Care to hear what it said?"
"Why not?"
"Whoever the guy was left the message, 'Dear Monk, even if you survive this, you're still a dead man. I'll get you and everyone close to you before the end of the holidays. Signed, The Goblin.'"
"The Goblin?" Adrian looked puzzled, "The Goblin? I don't know a Goblin."
"Sir, what are your orders?" Cargill asked.
"Uh, secure the areas and get a statement from the fire marshal; I'll be there as soon as I can," Stottlemeyer signed off. He collapsed into his seat. "If Karen hadn't insisted on taking the boys to the market…" he said weakly.
"And how would they know where I lived?" Sharona was equally in shock that she would be targeted.
"Someone involved in this caper knows too much," Adrian said slowly, "But why would they spare my apartment when they say in the note I'm the one they want?"
"Well, at any rate, now we've all got to find a new place to live until this all gets rebuilt," Natalie realized.
"And I think I know just the place," Stottlemeyer turned around to look at his star detective. "What?" Adrian asked naively.