Jedediah Armstrong arrived at the hotel at 5:45 PM along with three other officers. The first order of business was to determine how someone had gotten into the room. They found their grim answer in the form of the body of a member of the hotel's housekeeping staff. She had been strangled.
Adrian showed him the note, and Armstrong immediately called White House security to inform them about what happened. As he hung up the phone he turned to Adrian and Natalie and he said, "Well, it looks like I'll be staying with you for the next few days, by order of the President himself. Whoever did this, we have to find them, and fast, before they kill again."
"Adrian's the one they are after." said Natalie. "He's the threat."
"Yeah, but they have now made a threat against you as well, so until we get this solved you're not going anywhere alone either. You can't carry in D.C. but I can. Anyone presents themselves as a threat, will answer to the DCPD."
"Officer Armstrong?" Adrian said, holding the note in his hand.
"Call me Preacher." he said.
"Preacher?" Natalie asked.
"Yeah, I used to be a pastor in Anacostia before I joined the police force. "Armstrong replied. "So the guys on the force still call me preacher."
"What happened? " Adrian asked. "Did you lose your faith?"
Armstrong laughed. "Naw, man. Nothing like that. You see, about fifteen years ago, my house got broken into and was burned to the ground. My wife and son were in it."
Natalie gasped. "Oh no!"
"I determined from that day forward that I would find out who did it." Armstrong continued. "And so, I quit the pastorate and signed up with the Police Academy." He replied.
"Did you find her killer?" Monk asked.
"No sir. But I haven't given up. I know one day I will find out and the person who took my wife from me will pay for their crimes." He replied.
"Don't you miss the pastorate? I mean, being a D.C. cop is a pretty dangerous job." Natalie asked.
"Well, I still preach about once a month at a mission over in Brentwood. You all should come hear me sometime. I'm preaching there tomorrow night." He said.
"I'm not much on church." said Monk. "I mean, I believe in God and everything. But somehow, I think I got on His bad side along the way."
Armstrong looked at Monk "Are you kidding me? You are blessed! He's given you this amazing mind and friends and this lovely lady, and your health. I mean clearly, God has been good to you."
"He's also taken a lot from me. My Dad abandoned me. The kids at school were brutal towards me. My mother died. My shrink left me. Sharona left me. And He let Trudy get killed." Monk responded.
"Awe, Mr. Monk. Don't confuse God with sinners. People can be downright awful. But God is good. In His Providence, He doesn't always handle things the way we would like, but the good book says for those who love Him, He will work out everything for their good." Armstrong replied.
Monk sat silently and listened.
"Mr. Monk…" he continued.
"You can call me Adrian." Monk interrupted.
"Adrian. I lost my wife too and I know it changes your life completely. But, I left the pastorate and went into police work because I know that God is a God of justice. I figure I can spread that justice through either the good book or the law book. Either way, I'm doing God's work. Of course, I can never look at myself as His Avenger or anything like that. But knowing that He is going to make sure that evil does not prevail gives me hope and confidence and assurance." Preacher explained.
"Well, Preacher. Whatever works for you." Monk said, a little nervously. "Back to the case."
"Yes sir." Armstrong replied.
"I was looking at this note. The ink on this note looks different. It looks like it was made by a fountain pen with some custom color of ink. If I'm not mistaken, it is a Deep-Sea Blue.
"Nice observation, Adrian." Preacher replied. "That at least gives us something to go on. Of course, it's like a needle in a haystack. But I will have forensics test the ink to see what brand it is and then try to run a check on companies that sell the ink in this area. Maybe they will have a name for us to go on in their customer list. Meanwhile, I'm hungry. What kind of food does a joint like this have? "
"Very expensive." Adrian responded.
"It's Adrian's treat though." Natalie interjected.
"Ummm." Adrian replied, looking askance at Natalie.
Natalie patted him on the hand. "Hey, just about everything is free on this trip so you can afford to shell out a little for our good friend Jededi…uh, Preacher. Besides, you want him to have all of his energy in case he has to save our lives."
"What did you find?" said a male voice on a telephone to Jack Hauser.
"Nothing much. Just some notes about the crime scene. Monk knows that the primary cause of death was not stabbing. He also has pieced together a general timeline of events and has narrowed it down to the ten minutes that the Stoddard was greeting guests on the plane. Honestly, it's making me a little nervous." Jack responded.
"Well you have now killed two people, so don't go all wobbly kneed on me now. You have to somehow keep him off the trail. Distract him. Send him false messages. And if that doesn't work, kill him." Said the voice.
"Boss I'm not a professional hit man. He's got Armstrong with him now." Hauser replied.
"Armstrong is a problem. But nobody suspects you." The voice said. "Stay focused and look for any opportunity to throw him off the scent. I'll be back in touch."
That night, Adrian's dreams went back to earlier in the day where he was imagining Natalie walking down the aisle in white lace. Her beaming smile brought a warmth and happiness to his heart as nothing else could. He imagined all of his friends there all with smiles on their faces watching the happy occasion. Then, in his dream, he wiped happy tears from his eyes and when he looked up, everyone was dressed in black. Smiles turned to mourning as he watched a white coffin with a glass insert being carried down the aisle. His heart began to race as he ran to see who it was. It was Natalie! He fell to his knees as he was transported to a parking garage. Natalie was walking to her car and turned and smiled at Adrian. He jumped up from his knees and began to run towards the car as he saw Natalie get inside. He was still running but made up no distance when she turned the key in the ignition and the car exploded.
Adrian audibly yelled as his eyes shot open. His body was drenched in sweat as were his pajamas. His heart was pounding in his chest as he tried to shake off the disorientation and separate nightmare from reality.
The door to his room swung open as Preacher Armstrong came rushing in with gun drawn. Flipping on the light he surveyed the room and asked" you okay, man?"
Breathlessly, Adrian responded "Uh, yeah. Just had a bad dream. Sorry."
Relieved, Preacher responded, " It's okay. I'll be out here if you need anything."
Monk nodded as the door shut behind Armstrong. He shut his eyes as a mixture of fear and sorrow overwhelmed his heart. Hot tears flowed down his cheeks as he felt a darkness enveloping every aspect of his person. It had felt real and he was having a horrible time dealing with it, with the fact that he had at long last opened his heart and that in so doing had subjected himself to getting hurt again. It would destroy him if something happened to her, he thought. And yet, in his life there was always a certain level of danger. This conflict greatly troubled his heart to the degree that there would be no sleep for Adrian Monk that night.