"And step up left," Natalie instructed her boss. She and Disney were practically helping him up each individual step to the castle's top room, "And step up right. You know, you can open your eyes, Mr. Monk, there's no windows here for you to look out."

"I don't need the window to know how high up I am," Adrian said between pursed lips of terror. He turned around. "I can't, I can't really do this, I've got to go…"

"Detective, if you're right that Roger Chalmers is a murderer, you're going to have to come up here," Disney told him.

Adrian sighed and turned back up the stairs. Fortunately they were right near the top now. "Mr. Disney, who all has access to this room?" he asked as the man turned a key in the door's lock.

"Only high-level company personnel," Disney told him, "This was intended as a private apartment for my family, but my uncle died before it could be completed. Now it's just an backup storeroom."

"By high-level personnel, does that include Chalmers and Andy Faulk?" Natalie inquired.

"Yes, they both have access keys," Disney stared in wonder as Adrian immediately walked over to a clump of crates and started stacking them in a perfectly straight column. "Much better," he said, stepping back to admire his work, "I should really get a dust rag; it's rather filthy up here."

"Mr. Monk, do you see any evidence or not?" Natalie pressed him.

"Here's the murder weapon," Adrian picked up a large wooden beam in his mechanical arm from behind the crates. There was a noticeable red mark on the end of it. The detective walked slowly around the room—tensing up every time he walked near the open window—making more hand gestures. "Chalmers called Faulk up," he announced, "He told him he was wanted to talk things over with him; maybe he said he was going to admit stealing money. He stood right over here," he walked behind the door and held the beam up to arm's length. "The moment Faulk walked in, he killed him."

"Very impressive," Disney nodded, "Yes, that makes lots of sense. So now how did he fly?"

Adrian glanced around the room. "Was that table always there?" he asked, pointing at one that was lined up lengthwise right against the window.

"Not the last time I was up here," Disney shook his head, staring at it.

"And that was…?"

"Two days ago," the elderly man walked over to the table. "Is this supposed to be a ramp?" he asked, staring at a large wedge of wood arranged at the far end.

"I think so," Adrian glanced it over, "He set Faulk's body here before he launched him."

"And how do suppose he did that?" Disney stared out the window.

Adrian took several steps backwards into the center of the room. "Well, I'm still working on it," the detective said quickly, glancing at the floor, "I'm guessing he controlled Faulk's flight externally; otherwise he couldn't have gone upwards like he did just before he fell…I'm sorry, I'm just too uncomfortable up here; I've got to go down."

"Yes, I'd greatly appreciate that," came Iger's voice. The company president was standing in the doorway, his arms folded across his chest. "Disney, what do you think you're doing bringing him up here?" he demanded to his associate, "I thought we'd agreed this case was closed."

"The case ISN'T closed, Iger," Disney told him firmly, "Detective Monk's raised serious questions about the manner in which Andy died."

"Mr. Iger, where was Roger Chalmers this morning before Mr. Faulk was killed?" Adrian asked him.

Iger didn't answer. He let out a low groan of disgust. "You're not starting this again, Roy," he reprimanded Disney, "I've told you time and time again to lay off Roger!"

"This isn't Mr. Disney's doing," Natalie protested, "We honestly suspect Chalmers of murder."

"Well apart for five measly minutes when he went the bathroom, miss, he was with me all morning," Iger said impatiently. "Honestly, Roy, you never know just when to stop!" he derided Disney, "Every single person Mike hired you assume is the spawn of Satan and try to have axed!"

"Don't drag Mike into this!" Disney shouted back, "He's out of the picture now! And Chalmers is stealing from us. I can't prove it yet, but…"

"I've said it before, and I'll say it yet again," Iger told him off, "I trust Roger with my life. He's a good man. Now lay off him. And you, downstairs," he jerked a finger at Adrian, "This is restricted space up here."

"What will it take for you to believe us?" Natalie demanded.

"Apparently nothing short of people being caught red-handed will suffice for some people," Disney glared at Iger, "Well, folks, I can tell when we're not welcome."

"That's good, that's good, I can live with that right now," Adrian walked quickly toward the stairs. Within minutes he was back down at ground level inside the castle. He breathed a deep sigh of relief. "So now what?" Natalie asked as she and Disney caught up to him.

"Iger said Chalmers was with him all morning," the detective remarked, "He was on the clock when he killed Faulk. Too long of a delay would arouse suspicions. Which means he didn't have time to destroy the incriminating documents."

"Now how do we know Faulk brought the documents, Mr. Monk?"

"There was a lighter lying on the floor near the murder weapon," he explained, "It was cracked; he tried to burn them, but realized he didn't have time, so he threw it up in the air in his haste to leave."

"So he still has the financial documents somewhere," Disney nodded in realization, "Well, we'd better find them if we want to convict him. I'll call sanitation and tell them to search the garbage cans in case he threw them out. Care to come with me?"

"Uh, no, uh, not at all," Adrian grimaced at the thought of garbage. Noticing a young woman drop a napkin nearby, he rushed over to pick it up with his claw. After dumping it into a can, he added, "Sorry, Mr. Disney, garbage isn't…you know…"

"I know," Disney nodded in understanding, "My uncle always said we should be considerate toward people with disabilities."

Adrian flinched at being labeled as disabled. He noticed the Kopeckis waving through the crowd at them—there was no mistaking his rack, which Paul was reluctantly dragging along. "Well, how about we meet back here in two hours?" Disney suggested, noticing them as well, "That way we'll both be able to work both ends of the candle."

"Fine by me," the detective nodded. Anything to avoid rooting through trash. He and Natalie left Disney, who walked briskly into Fantasyland, and rejoined their group near the curb. "You find anything else out, Mom? "Julie asked her.

"Mr. Monk's got a few new theories," Natalie explained everything the detective had brought up to her. "And where did Mr. and Mrs. Kopecki take you?"

"The Haunted Mansion," her daughter told her, "Mr. Monk wouldn't have lasted ten seconds in there. Way too much dust."

"I know," she cast a knowing glance at her boss, who was looking around nervously at the swelling crowds around them. "What's going on?" he asked hesitantly.

"It's almost time for the Pixar Pals Parade," Josh glanced at his watch, "It's supposed to be real good. The map says they invite people in the crowd to come dance with them. Maybe one of us'll get chosen."

"Ah, yeah, that, that would be nice," Adrian commented, shaking from side to side from the growing number of people around them, "I always wondered why no one bothers to have a parade when there's no one around."

Everyone stared at him in wonder. "Here it comes now," Molly pointed up the street. Sure enough, there was no mistaking the green Toy Story soldiers walking in columns up the street, followed by several floats. Loud cheers from excited guests rang out. Adrian started shaking harder; people in costumes made him uncomfortable too. He unlocked suitcase #2 from the rack and began downing the bottle of Sierra Springs he produced like lightning. "Careful, Mr. Monk, you might choke," Natalie cautioned him, "Are you sure you're all right?"

Adrian shook his head. "Parades, parades aren't really my cup of…YIKE!" he leaped backwards as a man in a Mike Wachowski costume danced right at him. "Where do they get those hideous things?" he asked loudly to anyone who cared.

"Don't tell me you never saw Monsters Incorporated?" Josh asked him with raised eyebrows.

"Oh, sure, sure, I saw it about, oh, five, six times, minimum," Adrian said confidently. He then leaned close to Paul and whispered, "That's the one where the guys run around with the proton packs and shoot the disgusting green thing, right?"

Before Paul could answer, Sully abruptly pulled out the detective into the street. "What?" he gasped loudly in terror as the large blue monster started dancing around with him to the strains of "You've Got a Friend in Me," "What the…? NATALIE, HEEELLLLLLLLLLPPP! Call the National Guard!"

Natalie was too busy laughing at his predicament to do anything. She raised her camera and took a picture of him with the monster. Adrian wrenched his way loose from Sully's grasp….and then noticed the Cars float moving right toward him…and that a Luigi robot driving alongside was zooming straight at him at almost twenty miles an hour. "Oh great!" he yelled, and took off running down Main Street. Luigi remained hot on his heels, almost as if he was subliminally attracted to the detective. Adrian weaved blindly at top speed through various Pixar floats and parade marchers. "Help me!" he shouted to a man dressed as Mr. Incredible, "You're supposed to be a superhero, save me!"

"Whoa!" Mr. Incredible took one look at the runaway Luigi and dove for the safety of the Incredibles float. Adrian continued running as fast as he could. He spotted a fire escape along the side of the ice cream house out of the corner of his eyes. Pushing his way through a laughing crowd, he leaped for the ladder, grabbed on, and climbed up as fast as he could. Luigi hit the wall below him and stopped. Adrian breathed a large sigh of relief…until he realized he was stranded up in the air. "HEELLLLLLLLPPP!" he yelled at the top of his lungs, "Somebody get me down!"