Mr. Monk Gets Even Read Online Free PDF Page B

darker wood underneath them.”
    Devlin turned to look, pointing her camera at the table at the same time. Sure enough, Julie could see the outline of the bowl of seashells was burned onto the tabletop. It looked like a shadow.
    Julie hadn’t seen that the first time. Then again, she hadn’t been paying any attention. It wasn’t her job to look for clues. There were plenty of cops around for that. So she didn’t feel dumb for missing it the way Devlin had and, to a lesser degree, Stottlemeyer had as well.
    “You’ll also find bits of wicker on the seat of the dining room chair,” Monk added, “the one that is not pushed all the way under the table the way it should be.”
    Devlin turned the iPhone camera back on her and Stottlemeyer, who was shaking his head.
    “I’ve got to hand it to you, Monk. You got all that without even coming up here. That’s a first.”
    “I think he’s making half this stuff up,” Devlin said. “It’s guesswork.”
    “Maybe so,” Stottlemeyer said. “But I’ll bet my pension that forensics will prove he’s right about what’s on the floor and on the chair. I’m pretty sure Monk can spot pollen with his naked eye.”
    “There’s no reason to be pornographic,” Monk said.
    “I meant you could see it without glasses or a microscope,” Stottlemeyer said.
    “Then that’s what you should have said instead of being unnecessarily crude.”
    “You’re right,” Stottlemeyer said. “I apologize.”
    “You do?” Devlin said.
    Stottlemeyer shrugged. “It doesn’t cost me anything.”
    “Only a measure of your pride.”
    “Pride is grossly overrated,” Stottlemeyer said.
    Julie turned the phone so it was just on her. “Are we done here, Leland?”
    “Yes, you are,” Stottlemeyer said. “But I’d appreciate it if you’d hang around for a minute. I need to come down and talk with Monk about something.”
    Julie clicked out of FaceTime, then sent a quick text to her boyfriend, Ricky, letting him know she’d be home in about an hour.
    Monk kept his eye on the tarp-covered Mercedes, as if it might come alive and attack them both.
    “The car hasn’t been towed yet,” Monk said.
    “That’s because I haven’t had a chance to mention it to any officers,” she said. “But rest assured, it’s on the top of my to-do list.”
    “I don’t see the list,” he said.
    She held up her iPhone. “I keep it on here. Asking the police to tow the car is item number one, right above getting you to your tuxedo fitting tomorrow at Ambrose’s house. The wedding is only a week away.”
    Both Monk and his brother were buying tuxedos, even though they would probably never wear them again. Renting tuxedos was not an option because both of the Monk brothers were repulsed by the idea of wearing clothes that had been worn by others. (In fact, Monk felt that the whole business of renting formal wear should be outlawed. He was also vehemently opposed to the sale of vintage clothing, which Julie bought from stores in the Haight all the time and had to keep secret from him, but I digress.)
    Since Ambrose wouldn’t leave the house for a fitting, the tailor was coming to him. So it made sense for Monk to have his fitting done at the same time.
    “I’m not looking forward to the wedding,” Monk said with a shudder. “The noise, the confusion, and all those people, crowded together in one place.”
    “There’s only going to be eight of us, and that’s counting the bride, the groom, and the judge,” Julie said. “It’s just you, me, Mom, Ellen, and the mailman.”
    Monk’s father had been invited, but hadn’t responded to the invitation, so Ambrose invited the mailman to be sure that there would be an even number of guests. Before Yuki came along, the mailman was one of the most important people in Ambrose’s life.
    “Yes, but the mailman handles thousands of letters, some of them sealed with drool, and he doesn’t wear gloves,” Monk said. “His mailbag is a sack of