Mr. Monk Gets Even (26 page)

“You have a good memory for names,” Dr. Auerbach said. “They are recovering nicely.”

“Good,” Monk said. “You may carry on.”

“Thank you for granting me permission to see my patients,” Dr. Auerbach said sarcastically and went into the ward where the two patients were recovering.

Monk turned to us and it was clear he was ready to begin his summation.

“As you will recall, Dale’s operation was the third of the day for Dr. Wiss and involved gastric bypass and extensive liposuction and excision of the excess flesh left over from the removal of all that fat,” Monk said.

“Yes, yes, we know,” Devlin said impatiently. “Can we please move this along?”

“You weren’t here for this,” Monk said. “The risks of that surgery, as we were informed by Dr. Wiss, included dehydration, blood loss, heart attack, and infection from wound dehiscence.”

“Dehiscence?” I asked.

“He could burst like a piñata,” Monk said.

“I’m feeling déjà vu,” Julie said.

“Wholly intentional,” Monk said. “I want you to relive the past and pay close attention, because the answers are there. Dale emerged from the operation wrapped in bandages from head to toe and relieved of perhaps half his previous weight. Dr. Wiss told us that Dale would go into the ICU and then require constant medical supervision during his recovery. However, Dr. Wiss informed us that his wife had won a vacation to Hawaii and that his partner, Dr. Auerbach, would be handling the post-op care of his three patients, beginning the following morning.”

“What does all of that have to do with anything?” Devlin said.

“The next day, Dale’s girlfriend, Stella Chaze, sent a runaway truck down Powell Street,” Monk said. “The truck collided with a cable car and a bus, killing four people and flooding this hospital with patients.”

“Yes, we know,” Devlin said. “Dale and Dr. Wiss’ two other patients were moved out of the ICU into another ward, freeing up the ICU to handle the critically injured victims from the accident. Chaze snuck in as one of the victims, and in the chaos that ensued, she wheeled Dale down to the morgue and slipped him out of here as a corpse in a hearse that she’d stolen from a mortuary. She took him to the waterfront and that’s where the trail went cold.”

“Because we were following the wrong trail,” Monk said.

“What do you mean?” Devlin said.

I thought about the hint Monk gave me and, in that second, it all came together. I saw the whole thing. For the first time, I felt a giddy sense of balance, of everything fitting together as it should. Myself, included. I was exactly where I was supposed to be, in my place, at the right time. I felt connected to the world, and the family and friends around me, in a way I never had before.

It was a wonderful feeling.

I must have a tell, too, because I suddenly realized that Monk was looking at my face and seeing right through me.

“You’ve figured it out,” he said.

Stottlemeyer looked at me. “You have?”

I nodded. “You’ll discover, once you do a little digging, that the trip Dr. Wiss won to Hawaii wasn’t a contest at all but a sham, a gift from Dale.”

“Dr. Wiss was in on the escape?” Stottlemeyer asked.

“No, he’s entirely innocent,” I said. “He has no idea that he didn’t actually win anything.”

“So Dr. Auerbach is the other accomplice,” Devlin said, “the one with medical training that we’ve been looking for.”

“No, he’s entirely innocent, too,” I said. “But a vital part of Dale’s escape plot.”

Monk smiled. “You really have figured it out. I’m proud of you.”

“I’ve been with you a long time, Mr. Monk.”

“I wish you’d never left,” Monk said.

I almost said,
Me, too
, before I caught myself.

“Some of us still don’t know what the hell is going on,” Devlin said.

“You can include me in that,” Stottlemeyer said.

“A naked corpse was found floating in the bay today. He was all ripped up, presumably by boat propellers,” Monk said. “But that’s not what happened. He burst apart as a result of the bloating that is a natural stage of decomposition.”

“Bodies don’t just explode when they decompose,” Devlin said.

“They do when they are all cut up and held together with stitches,” Monk said. “The bloating caused his large surgical incisions to split wide open, making it appear as if his corpse had been hit by a propeller while at sea.”

“Wound dehiscence!” Julie said.

“Exactly,” Monk said. “You pick up on this stuff very fast.”

“So the dead guy is Dale Biederback,” Devlin said. “He fell off into the bay during his escape. You’re saying we’ve been searching all this time for a dead man.”

“No, I’m not,” Monk said and then noticed Dr. Auerbach emerging from the ward. “Excuse me, Doctor. May I ask you a few questions?”

“Sure, if you make it quick,” Dr. Auerbach said. “I’m running a little behind.”

“Before Dr. Wiss left on his vacation, and you took over his rounds, had you met Jason McCabe, Frank Cannon, or Dale Biederback?”

“Nope,” Dr. Auerbach said.

Stottlemeyer smiled. Now he got it, too.

“I’ll be damned,” the captain said.

“How are Mr. McCabe and Mr. Cannon doing?” Monk asked the doctor.

“Fine, no complications, not that it’s any of your business,” Dr. Auerbach said. “They should be released in a few days.”

“Have Mr. McCabe or Mr. Cannon had any visitors?” Monk asked.

“Cannon’s wife has come by, and I think his son, too,” Dr. Auerbach said. “But as far as I know, no one has visited McCabe.”

“That’s about to change,” Monk said and walked into the ward. We got up and crowded in after him.

There was a man who looked like a mummy sitting up in one of the two beds, reading a book on a Kindle. The other patient’s bed was surrounded by a curtain.

Monk gestured to the curtain. “I have never met Jason McCabe. But I can tell you that he was single, homeless, morbidly obese, and had no family. An anonymous, extraordinarily generous benefactor paid for him to have liposuction. That donor was Dale the Whale, and he’s right here.”

He whipped back the curtain to reveal another bandaged man sitting up in bed. The man’s eyes blazed with fury.

“I told you it would be good,” Stottlemeyer said to me.

“Adrian Monk,” Dale said, each word dripping with disgust. “You’re like a disease that keeps mutating to avoid eradication.”

“You knew you couldn’t escape without proper medical care, so you arranged an escape that didn’t involve escaping,” Monk said. “You took McCabe’s place and since Dr. Auerbach didn’t perform your surgery, and hadn’t met you before, he never suspected a thing. If everything had gone according to plan, you would have walked out of here in a few days with a new face and, presumably, a prearranged new identity.”

“It’s a pity you weren’t killed with my little acolyte in that explosion,” Dale said. “It would have been so fitting for you to die like your wretched wife.”

If Dale was hoping to strike a nerve, he failed. Monk stepped up to the bed.

“Trudy caught you first, and it was easy. And every time you’ve tried any scheme since, I’ve always caught you, too. Some genius you’ve turned out to be.” Monk leaned in close. “Tell me, Dale, do you ever get tired of failing so spectacularly?”

“This isn’t over,” Dale said.

“So the answer is no,” Monk said, straightening up again. “Oh well. I guess with your unbroken record of abject failure, I don’t have much reason to worry about what you come up with next.” Monk stepped away from the bed and looked at Devlin. “He’s all yours.”

Devlin handed Stottlemeyer a pair of handcuffs. “Would you like to do the honors, sir?”

Stottlemeyer took the cuffs, clamped one end on Dale’s wrist, the other to the bed railing. “Dale Biederback, aka Dale the Fail, you’re under arrest.”

Frank Cannon, the patient in the next bed, spoke up. “Does this mean I’ll be getting my own room? That man snores like a pregnant walrus.”

Monk turned and walked out. His job was done. That’s when I noticed Dr. Auerbach standing by the door, stunned by what he’d heard.

“I was Dale’s puppet and I didn’t even know it,” he said. “How could I have been so easily duped?”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself,” I said. “We all feel that way after Monk does one of his reveals.”

Julie and I went into the lobby and joined Monk, who was busy organizing the magazines on the waiting area coffee table by name and date.

“Congratulations, Mr. Monk,” I said. “That was quite a show.”

“It wasn’t a show,” Monk said. “I discovered the correct order of events and conveyed those facts to you.”

“In as dramatic a fashion as possible,” I said. “You’re a performer at heart.”

“Let me make sure I understand what happened,” Julie said. “During the confusion in the hospital, Stella put Dale in McCabe’s place, killed McCabe, slipped his body out of the hospital, and tossed him in the ocean.”

“Yes,” Monk said. “That’s correct. She killed five people and then herself out of twisted love for a monster.”

“Okay, but there’s still one thing I don’t get,” she said. “How did you know all that stuff about McCabe being single and homeless if you never met him?”

“From his teeth and skin when I examined his corpse,” Monk said. “The rest I deduced.”

“How?” Julie asked.

“Simple logic. The only way the switch could possibly have worked was if the person whose place Dale took had no relatives who would show up to visit or who would miss him if he disappeared.”

Stottlemeyer came out of the room. “Devlin is going to stay with Dale until we get some officers down here. He’s not going anywhere this time.”

“He never went anywhere last time,” Monk said.

“I stand corrected,” Stottlemeyer said. “And grateful.”

Julie gestured to Stottlemeyer’s sling. “You can open my present now.”

The captain took out the envelope, opened it, and read the sheet of paper that was inside. He glanced at Julie. “Is this true?”

“It’s the only thing that is,” she said.

“Unbelievable,” Stottlemeyer said.

“What’s this all about?” I asked.

“Your daughter has great instincts.” Stottlemeyer gave Julie a kiss on the cheek. “Are you sure you aren’t interested in being a detective?”

“Positive,” she said.

“Our loss,” he said and waved the piece of paper. “Would you like to see me cash this in?”

“I’d love to,” she said.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Mr. Monk by Degrees

D
eputy Chief Fellows liked dogs. His office at police headquarters was filled with pictures of his three golden retrievers at play. The pictures of his dogs outnumbered the pictures of his wife and two sons by three to one. He also had a dog bed and a basket of chew toys in one corner of his office in case one of them ever came to the office for a visit. He didn’t have anything around for his family to chew on.

Stottlemeyer and Julie showed up unannounced and found Fellows at his desk going through some files. Fellows looked up from his work and wasn’t pleased to see who was at his door.

“How did you two get in the building?” Fellows demanded.

“We’re Lieutenant Devlin’s guests,” Stottlemeyer said, then gestured to Julie. “She’s my driver.”

“You have been suspended, Stottlemeyer, so unless you have come to cut a deal, you are not welcome here,” Fellows said.

“That’s exactly why I’m here,” he said.

“That’s a wise move. Take a seat and have the girl wait outside,” Fellows said and reached for the phone. “I’ll get the IA detective handling your case down here.”

“I’d hold off on that if I were you,” Stottlemeyer said. “There have been some developments in the Dale Biederback case you need to know about first.”

Fellows put the receiver back in the cradle. “Do you know where he is?”

“I do,” Stottlemeyer said. “He’s in police custody, handcuffed to a bed at San Francisco General.”

“Did Devlin find him or did you give up his location in exchange for leniency?”

“Neither. Adrian Monk found him. He figured out that Dale never left the hospital, that the whole escape was an elaborate ruse.”

“So Dale was right under your nose,” Fellows said, shaking his head. “I knew you were incompetent, but not to this extreme. No wonder you brought in Monk as a consultant and fought so hard for that lunatic all these years. Without him covering your back, your stupidity would have been obvious to everyone. You haven’t been riding his coattails, you’ve been hiding behind him!”

“You’re missing the point,” Julie said. “I told you that Mr. Monk would find Dale. I also warned you what would happen when he did. There’s going to be a press conference soon, and you’re not going to like what he has to say about you.”

Fellows stood up. “Don’t threaten me, little lady. Perhaps you have forgotten who you are talking to. I am a deputy chief of the San Francisco Police Department. I have the power to immediately cancel Monk’s consulting contract. So if Monk is smart, he’ll watch his mouth and not bite the hand that feeds him. And although Monk may have assisted the police in apprehending Dale Biederback, that doesn’t clear Stottlemeyer of bribery or his breathtaking incompetence. I could make life very unpleasant for Lieutenant Devlin as well, if Monk says the wrong things. Do I make myself clear?”