Disher's car pulled up in front of Adrian's apartment as the sun started coming up. The detective walked briskly over and opened the back door. "Thanks for coming, lieutenant," he told him.
"You realize, Monk, that right now I could get in trouble if anyone knows I'm with you right now," Disher reminded him, "This'll be off the record as far as anything goes."
"But you will get the credit for the arrest," Natalie told him from the front passenger seat, looking quite excited despite the dark bags under her eyes from being up so early, "So who did it Mr. Monk?"
"Who was the person who stood to gain the most if Arthur Schmidt were dead?" Adrian posed to them, "and who was the last person to see him alive that we know of?"
"Hallett," Disher snapped his fingers, "Why didn't we see it sooner? But what did he use to kill him, Monk?"
"That's what Hallett was thinking as well," Adrian explained, "He didn't want anything traced to him, so he used something that couldn't be traced. Something that doesn't leave fingerprints. Something that would vanish the moment it was used."
"Vanish?" the lieutenant frowned, "Now what weapon would vanish when..."
"Ice," Natalie realized, "a sharp piece of ice. That's why he chose a refrigerator warehouse."
"Exactly," Adrian nodded, "He chose it very carefully. He knew a long piece of ice could cause fatal injuries to Schmidt. He cased the area first, so he knew Esther Hollway lived in the area, and that her personal possessions could help in creating his weapon of destruction. With her oxygen tanks and vacuum, he had a makeshift launcher. And he fixed one of the refrigerators so he could instantly freeze any water he could get. All he needed was something to fire the ice out of, and since the company was financing Karen's film, he knew he could get rifles there--and that Karen would be an easy suspect to take the fall for him. He hung around the set and when the opportunity came he stole the four of them. All he had to do then was call Schmidt and lure him to the warehouse. The ice nailed Schmidt in the chest and melted, leaving no murder weapon behind."
"I still don't understand how he set the whole thing up," Disher admitted.
"It worked like this," Adrian explained, "Hallett lowered the temperature in the warehouse so the ice would stay together when they were fired out of the rifle; it couldn't melt away until after it had inflicted maximum damage on Schmidt. Once he got the rifles, he filled them with water and froze it inside by sticking the freeze controls of the working refrigerator he fixed into the breeches. He probably filed off the end of the ice near the muzzles when this was done so they'd be lethally sharp. Then he hooked up the vacuum hoses to the oxygen tanks and attached them to the rifles. Once he turned the oxygen up full blast, he had the equivalent of air cannons at his disposal."
"OK," Disher nodded, "The only problem being it's going to be a little hard to this find this proof even with a search warrant."
"Well then, we'd better get going quick," Adrian said, "Because he could destroy the evidence at any minute."
Twenty minutes later Disher had the warrant. The lieutenant drove as fast as traffic would allow to Hallett's Pacific Heights manor. There was no response when he rang the doorbell. "He's not in," Adrian commented.
"How can you tell?" Disher asked.
"There's some furniture missing inside, taken just recently," the detective was staring in the porch's front window, "He may have heard about what happened at Karen's last night and bolted. If he took the evidence with him..."
Disher took this as a cue to kick the door open and storm inside. "What are we looking for, Monk?" he asked rushing into the foyer.
"The rifles, the oxygen tanks, anything with his...oh great," Adrian squatted by the fireplace and stared at the ashes, "He burned the clothes he wore. Nothing's left."
"He burned them?" Natalie stared at the ashes herself.
"Schmidt attacked him after he shot with the ice," Adrian reminded her, "His blood would have been all over them. Hallett's smart, very smart." He then hurried over to the nearest trash can and withdrew with his tweezers a framed protrait with cracked glass. Underneath the glass was a cracked picture of Hallett with Marilyn Schmidt. "He was having an affair with her," the detective realized, "So he had double the reason to kill him."
"Guys, in here," Disher was now in the study, staring at a wide-open drawer on the large desk in the middle. Adrian ran in and stared into the open drawer. There was a layer of dried blood on top of several ledgers inside. "He had the pistol he shot Schmidt with in here," the detective announced.
"It looks like he had something in here too," Natalie had noticed a wide-open cabinet behind them as well. Sure enough, there were dust outlines inside that were undeniably those of oxygen tanks and what looks like rifle handles. Disher reached for his cell phone. "This is an all-points bulletin," he announced back to headquarters, "I want an arrest warrant for Mr. Nicolas Hallett; don't let him leave the city."
"He's at the harbor," Adrian was staring a painting over the mantle, showing Hallett standing on a yacht inscribed NICK'S FORTUNE, "Dock 34. He's going to sail down to Mexico; they can check the airports for him, but once he's off..."
"That's only about five minutes from here," Natalie realized, "If we hurry we might still get him in time, if he hasn't left yet."
"Not yet, but he will soon," Adrian was running out the door before he could elaborate. The three of them followed and peeled out into traffic. "But not, not that fast!" the detective complained, clutching the door handle hard.
"I have to if we want to catch him," Disher protested. Despite the brevity of the ride, it seemed to take an eternity for them to arrive at the harbor. "There," Adrian pointed once they pulled up to the dock in question. A very familiar figure was dragging a large shroud-covered object toward the yacht tied up at the end of the dock. Disher jumped out with his gun drawn. "Hallett, police, freeze!" he ordered.
"You freeze!" Hallett drew his own gun and pushed the evidence right up to the edge of the dock, "Or this vanishes forever!"
"Don't be rash, Hallett," Disher continued advancing toward him, "It's all over now. We know everything. Just put the evidence down."
"Put the evidence down?" Hallett sniggered, "If you say so."
And with that he dropped the guns and oxygen tanks into the bay. Adrian stared numbly as the only evidence that could convict Hallett sank slowly out of sight...
...and without warning jumped into the water after them. "Mr. Monk!" Natalie shrieked in shock. "Can he swim!?" she asked Disher in deep concern.
"I've never even seen him near a pool when he wasn't on drugs!" Disher started toward the edge of the dock, but Hallett jumped in front of him and held his gun in the lieutenant's face. "No one moves!" he warned him and Natalie, "Or you go with him!"
"He could drown!" she shouted.
"That's one less hassle for me then, isn't it?" Hallett cocked the gun and put his finger on the trigger. Then there came a loud splashing. "I've got it!" Adrian shouted from under the dock, straining to hold the evidence over his head.
"You've got it all right!" Hallett aimed at him. In a flash Disher jumped him from behind, knocked him down before he could fire, and ripped the gun out of his hands. "Nicolas Hallett, you're under arrest for two counts of premeditated murder," he told the man as he handcuffed him.
"I did it for Marilyn!" Hallett shouted in defense, "I loved her, Arthur didn't; it was a simple as that!"
"So you killed her because you loved her that much?" Natalie retorted, holding out her hand for Adrian as he scrambled back onto the dock with the evidence.
"She would have ruined it all!" Hallett moaned, "We would have been perfect, and she wanted out! So much for gratitude! So much for love!"
"Well you'll have a lot of time to talk about philosophy where you're going," Disher hauled him to his feet, "Let's go."
He led Hallett off toward their car. Adrian shook himself off and gestured for not one but the entire pack of wipes he knew was in Natalie's purse. "Remind, remind me never to do that again," he remarked, wiping himself off not just on the hands but all over.
"I can't believe you did that, Mr. Monk," she was impressed.
"Neither can I," he wiped in his hair as well, "I'm, I'm going to need at least a six hour shower after this."
"Well you've earned it now that the case is over and done with," she told him, "Thank God, too."
"No," Adrian said, prompting a surprised look from her, "This case isn't over with yet."