Tuesday, February 26, 2008

Mr. Monk and the Marathon Man – Monk Transcript 1.8

Young Adrian Monk ties his shoelace as other runners pass himA gunshot begins the San Francisco Chronicle Marathon.

Reporter: And there’s the starting gun, kicking off the 25th annual Chronicle Marathon, San Francisco. Over 6,000 runners in the race today, and it is perfect running weather. And there is Tonday Mawwaka, number 534.

An old black man cheers as he runs.  Continue reading...

Reporter: What a story he is. The legendary “Proud Lion”. He’s a two time Olympic champion, and he’s come all the way from his homeland of Nigeria to run in today’s event, which he’s referred to as his final lap.

Tonday Mawwaka takes a cup of water from volunteers.

Reporter: Of course, Tonday’s threatened to retire before, but if this does turn out to be his valedictory race, it’ll be quite a day to remember. Of course, we’ll be checking in with his progress all through our continuous coverage of the marathon.

Adrian Monk and Sharona Fleming arrive at the marathon. Adrian Monk is even wearing a baseball cap.

Sharona: Two cameras?
Mr. Monk: Yeah. In case one breaks. Where is he?
Sharona: Well, he won’t be near the front. I mean, you know, he’s 65 years old.
Mr. Monk: Sixty-three. He’s my idol. Did I mention that?
Sharona: About a million times.
Mr. Monk: No, seriously, Tonday Mawwaka is the greatest runner who ever lived. I saw him run in Los Angeles in 1973. He was 400 yards behind with less than a mile to go. He had nothing left, and somehow he just—he just found it. It was the most amazing finish. I can’t believe you never heard of him.

Adrian Monk is distracted with the sweater of another spectator.

Sharona: What?
Mr. Monk: That man. He missed a button.
Sharona: Don’t worry about it, okay? Come on, just have fun.
Mr. Monk: 63 years old, he’s still running the marathon. I’ve got to get into shape.
Sharona: No, you’re in great shape.
Mr. Monk: Nah, I used to be. Now if I can’t find the remote control, I just watch whatever’s on.

Adrian Monk focuses his camera to the man’s sweater.

Mr. Monk: Look at him. How can he stand it? Hold on to this.

Adrian Monk approaches the man.

Mr. Monk: Excuse me, sir. You missed a button.
Man: What?
Mr. Monk: You missed a button. You’ll thank me later.
Sharona: Oh, oh! Adrian!
Man: Will—will you get the hell away from me, please? I’m trying to enjoy this race here.

Adrian Monk fusses with the man’s sweater.

Mr. Monk: Here it is. It’s not problem.
Sharona: Adrian!
Mr. Monk: If you just—
Sharona: Adrian, he’s coming!

Tonday Mawwaka is waving to the spectators.

Sharona: Adrian, would you hurry up! Look! He’s coming!

Adrian Monk moves the man’s binoculars.

Mr. Monk: These are in the way.
Man: No, they’re not in the way. You’re in the way!
Mr. Monk: I’m very good at buttons.
Man: Get away! Get away! Go! Go!

The crowd is now cheering for Tonday Mawwaka.
Adrian Monk fixes the man’s sweater.

Mr. Monk: There it is. Okay.
Sharona: You missed him! You just missed him!

Inside an apartment, a woman is watching the marathon on the television.

Woman: Look, he’s wearing blue shorts. Look, there he is. There—no, no, that’s not him.

The woman is actually on the phone and is also painting her toenails.

Woman: Knowing Trevor, he probably stopped to sell someone a sofa bed. Lisa, what is wrong with me. I mean, I can’t stand the son of a bitch, and I’m trying to catch a glimpse of him. This is ridiculous.

A man sneaks inside the woman’s apartment.

Woman: No, I know. No, I know. That’s why I told him he has to make up his mind once and for all. The guy can’t have his cake and eat it too. Bye.

The woman hangs up the phone.

Man: Hello, Gwen.

The woman gasps.

Gwen: Trevor. What—what are you doing here? I thought you were running the marathon.

Gwen yelps as she struggles. A woman screams from down below the building as Gwen’s lifeless body is thrown off the balcony.
Adrian Monk and Sharona Fleming are inside the car.

Mr. Monk: I can’t believe I missed him. I can’t believe I missed Tonday.
Sharona: Well, it’s your own fault. You should have ignored the stupid sweater.
Mr. Monk: It was askew.
Sharona: So what? So what? Why can’t you just let people be askew? What are you, the askew police?
Mr. Monk: Yes, I’m the askew police.

Adrian Monk turns his attention on a commotion on the street.

Mr. Monk: What’s going on?
Sharona: Is that the captain?

Leland Stottlemeyer wearing rugged clothes talks with the other detectives.

Captain Stottlemeyer: You got two out, two kids on, first and third, all right? My kid throws a fastball like—

Randy Disher also wearing rugged clothing comes running to Leland Stottlemeyer.

Lt. Disher: Captain! Captain!
Captain Stottlemeyer: What?
Lt. Disher: I just talked to the building manager. He’s on his way.
Captain Stottlemeyer: Okay, all right. Work the street. Get statements from everybody. Let’s get to it. This is not going to go away.
Detective: Yes, sir.

Leland Stottlemeyer turns around and walks away with Randy Disher.

Captain Stottlemeyer: This is supposed to be my day off!
Lt. Disher: You’re telling me.
Captain Stottlemeyer: Monk, what are you doing here? You chasing ambulances now?
Mr. Monk: We were just driving by. What do ya got?
Captain Stottlemeyer: We got a dead girl. She lives on the, uh, 21st floor. Either she slipped or she jumped or she had some help.

They go to the dead body on he stretcher. Leland Stottlemeyer uncovers the corpse.

Mr. Monk: It was murder.
Sharona: It’s a possibility, yeah.
Mr. Monk: No, that’s what happened. It was murder.
Lt. Disher: And how can you know that, Monk? You just got here.
Mr. Monk: Her toenails. She didn’t finish painting them. She was obviously interrupted.
Lt. Disher: Isn’t that the style now?
Sharona: Like you know.
Captain Stottlemeyer: I think you might be right.

Leland Stottlemeyer signals to the paramedics to load the body on the ambulance.

Captain Stottlemeyer: Go ahead.

The paramedics load the corpse in the ambulance.

Captain Stottlemeyer: Anyway, we’ll know soon enough when the medical examiner looks at her.

Leland Stottlemeyer walks away with Adrian Monk.

Captain Stottlemeyer: Gum?

Adrian Monk refuses.

Captain Stottlemeyer: Thanks for dropping by.
Mr. Monk: Yeah. Good luck with this.
Captain Stottlemeyer: Yeah, it’s good to see ya.
Mr. Monk: Yeah.
Captain Stottlemeyer: As long as you’re here. You want to make a few bucks?

Randy Disher looks in disbelief.

Mr. Monk: Sure.
Captain Stottlemeyer: Good.

Sharona Fleming hands the contract to Randy Disher.

Sharona: Contract.
Lt. Disher: Excellent.

Leland Stottlemeyer is at the crime scene talking on his cell phone.

Captain Stottlemeyer: That’s what I thought. Thanks, Paul.

Leland Stottlemeyer hangs up the phone.

Captain Stottlemeyer: Boys and girls, listen up. That was the medical examiner. She was strangled before she went over the edge. This is now a homicide investigation, which means do not touch anything, don’t lean on anything and be careful where you walk.

Leland Stottlemeyer turns to Adrian Monk.

Captain Stottlemeyer: What do you think?
Mr. Monk: She lived alone?
Captain Stottlemeyer: Yeah, she lived alone, but uh, check this out.

Leland Stottlemeyer goes to the refrigerator.

Captain Stottlemeyer: Excuse me. She has beer in the fridge and…cigars in the humidor.
Mr. Monk: Boyfriend.
Lt. Disher: Yeah, and according to her neighbor, she had an ex husband and a boyfriend who nobody ever saw.

Adrian Monk turns to the mail on the table.

Mr. Monk: Well, somebody was paying the bills. She was on unemployment.
Captain Stottlemeyer: And somebody was buying her a lot of gifts.
Mr. Monk: She hasn’t opened any of them.
Lt. Disher: Hmm, maybe she was planning to return them. I mean, look at this guy’s taste.
Sharona: What are you talking about? This stuff is great, I mean, look at this—

Sharona Fleming takes the paper bag.

Lt. Disher: Sharona. Evidence.
Sharona: Oh.
Mr. Monk: Do you smell that?
Sharona: No.
Captain Stottlemeyer: What is that?
Mr. Monk: Chamomile. It’s an herb. It grows wild like a weed.
Captain Stottlemeyer: I know what chamomile is.
Mr. Monk: Used to make tea.
Captain Stottlemeyer: Yeah. Check the kitchen for chamomile tea.
Man: Yes, sir.

Adrian Monk turns his attention to the phone’s handset that’s not under the table where the television set sits.

Mr. Monk: Captain, look at this. Her speed dial. Number three is blank.

Leland Stottlemeyer picks up the phone with his pen.

Mr. Monk: If she had a lover, and she was trying to be discreet—
Captain Stottlemeyer: She would not have listed his name.
Lt. Disher: I’ve got it sir.

Randy Disher who is wearing latex gloves takes the phone from Leland Stottlemeyer.

Mr. Monk: Wait.

Adrian Monk dials the phone.

Man: Hello?
Captain Stottlemeyer: Hi, um, this is Captain Leland Stottlemeyer with the San Francisco Police Department. Whom am I talking to?

Trevor McDowell shoots a commercial for his furniture store. In the commercial, he is a boxing referee.

Trevor: Hey! It’s me, Trevor McDowell. We’ve just opened a new furniture showroom right here in San Mateo, right off Route 101.

The bell dings.

Trevor: Break!

Two kids start punching each other. Adrian Monk and Sharona Fleming arrive.

Trevor: Hey, listen, if your family’s like mine, the furniture in your house takes a real beating!

The two kids continue punching each other in a makeshift boxing ring.

Trevor: Okay, keep it clean! Keep it clean! Gloves up!

Adrian Monk, Sharona Fleming, now with Leland Stottlemeyer watch the commercial shoot.

Trevor: That’s why you need furniture that can go the distance. Isn’t that right, honey?

Trevor McDowell turns to his wife and puts his arm around her.

Mrs. McDowell: With low prices that’ll knock you out!

Mrs. McDowell raises her gloved hand, while her son punches the couch.

Trevor: Like this couch. It’s regularly 799.

Trevor McDowell pulls out a sign that says $799.

Trevor: But with a quick jab from Tyler.

Tyler punches the sign.

Trevor: That old price is T.K.O.’ed!

Mrs. McDowell pulls out another signboard.

Trevor: It’s yours for only 649!

Adrian Monk points at the camera screen monitor.

Mr. Monk: You see that lamp there? It’s got—

Sharona Fleming pushes his hand away from the screen.

Sharona: No! Don’t even think about it.
Mr. Monk: But it’s not—
Sharona: Stop. Stop.
Mr. Monk: It’s supposed to—
Trevor: Normally it’s 1399, but with a mighty blow from Luke, here—

Trevor’s other son punches the sign he’s holding.

Trevor: Whoa! That old price is down for the count!

Trevor throws the signboard and holds up another signboard with his son.

Trevor: It’s yours for only 1299! Heavyweight furniture at featherweight prices! Tables! Chairs! Sofas! Lamps! Love seats! You name it!

Adrian Monk straightens the lampshade of a table lamp.

Trevor: At McDowell’s, if we can’t beat the competition, we’ll throw in the towel!

Trevor McDowell pulls out a towel, while her wife raises the hands of their sons. Adrian Monk is right behind them still fixing the lampshade.

Director: Cut! Cut!
Trevor: What?
Director: Who is that? Get him out of there!

A crewmember ushers away Adrian Monk.

Mr. Monk: I’m sorry. It was a little—was I—okay, take two.

Sharona Fleming hides her face in her hand.

Sharona: Oh, my God.

Leland Stottlemeyer approaches Trevor McDowell who is with his family.

Captain Stottlemeyer: Trevor McDowell.
Trevor: Yes, sir?

Leland Stottlemeyer shows him his badge.

Captain Stottlemeyer: I’d like to talk to you.
Mrs. McDowell: What’s going on?
Captain Stottlemeyer: Nothing serious, I think maybe one of his employees is passing bad checks.
Trevor: You know what, honey, I’m sure it’s okay. Take the kids inside and I’ll see you in a little bit.

Trevor McDowell stands up and gives his wife a kiss on the head.

Mrs. McDowell: Okay, come on, guys.
Trevor: Good work today, guys.

Mrs. McDowell and the kids leave.

Captain Stottlemeyer: You’ve got a beautiful family, Mr. McDowell.
Trevor: You don’t have to tell me that. Can I get you anything?
Captain Stottlemeyer: Nothing for me, thank you.
Trevor: Have a seat. Water?
Sharona: Oh, no, thank you.

A crewmember carrying a bunch of water bottles arrive. Trevor turns to the crewmember.

Trevor: It’s okay.

Trevor McDowell takes a seat.

Trevor: So, about Gwen. I heard about it on the news, but they said she was murdered. Is that true?
Captain Stottlemeyer: That’s true.

Trevor McDowell sighs.

Trevor: Horrible. Do you have any leads?
Mr. Monk: We’re workin’ on it.
Captain Stottlemeyer: She was your girlfriend.
Trevor: Yes, sir. I really screwed up big time.
Captain Stottlemeyer: How long have you been screwing up?
Trevor: I met her two years ago. She was an actress in one of my commercials. She was the girl in the waterbed.
Sharona: Oh, my God. I remember that one. Yeah, yeah, I liked that commercial.
Mr. Monk: You’re a natural in front of the camera.
Trevor: Oh, thank you.
Mr. Monk: Do you drink tea, Mr. McDowell?
Trevor: Uh, sometimes, yes.
Mr. Monk: Chamomile tea?
Trevor: No.
Captain Stottlemeyer: The building manager said you’d been paying her rent. He also said you called him a month ago to say you would not be renewing the lease.
Trevor: That’s correct. I was trying to break it off when I realized I made a mistake. My family’s my life. Gwen understood that.
Mr. Monk: Did she?
Trevor: I thought she did. We talked about it.
Captain Stottlemeyer: Do you have an alibi for 7:55 this morning?

Trevor McDowell chuckles.

Trevor: 7:55, I would have been on…Haight Street.
Captain Stottlemeyer: Anybody see you there?
Trevor: Oh, yes, about a thousand people. See, I was running in the marathon.
Captain Stottlemeyer: You realize we have several ways to verify that.
Trevor: Good, because the sooner you clear me, the sooner you can catch the bastard who did this.

Trevor McDowell hands Leland Stottlemeyer a business card.

Trevor: That’s my card with my office number. That’s my home number. If there’s anything I can do to help, please don’t hesitate to call.
Captain Stottlemeyer: I’ll be in touch.
Trevor: Good luck with the investigation.
Director: Okay, that’s a wrap!

Trevor McDowell walks away.

Mr. Monk: How’d you do?
Trevor: Excuse me?
Mr. Monk: In the marathon, how’d you do?
Trevor: Three hours, 41 minutes. Personal best, actually, I’ve been training like a demon.
Mr. Monk: Were you drafting or running open field?
Trevor: Open field, you a runner?
Mr. Monk: Uh, years ago. High school. Made All-State.

Sharona Fleming looks at Adrian Monk with disbelief.

Sharona: You ran?

Later, Adrian Monk and Sharona Fleming steps out of the car.

Mr. Monk: What?
Sharona: I just can’t picture you on a track team.
Mr. Monk: I—I had a life, you know, before we met.
Sharona: Oh, no, no, no. I know you had a life.

A cyclist rings his bell. Sharona Fleming giggles.

Sharona: I just didn’t think it involved wearing gym shorts and showering with other guys.
Mr. Monk: I didn’t shower with other guys. I had a note from my doctor.
Sharona: I bet you had lots of notes from your doctor.
Mr. Monk: As a matter of fact, I did, I had a whole, separate binder.
Sharona: What are we doing here when the captain already checked this guy out? He definitely ran the marathon.
Mr. Monk: I know, I just—I just want to make sure.

Adrian Monk and Sharona Fleming enter the marathon office.

Woman: Hello, can we help you?
Mr. Monk: Oh, no. It’s a stampede. Get a wipe ready.
Sharona: Oh.

Sharona Fleming quickly rummages her purse.

Mr. Monk: I’m Adrian Monk. I called earlier.
Woman; Oh, Mr. Monk. Uh, please excuse the mess. After the marathon, we just kind of hibernate for a while, you know.
Mr. Monk: This is my assistant Sharona.
Sharona: Hi.

Sharona Fleming still rummages inside her purse. The woman extends her hand.

Woman: I’m this year’s chairperson, Angie Morrison.

Adrian Monk shakes Angie Morrison’s hand.

Angie: This is Tillie Graves, Cicily Fraiser—
Mr. Monk: Hi.

Adrian shakes all their hands.

Angie: And Brandon Connelly over there.
Mr. Monk: Got it.
Brandon: Brandon Connelly, hi.
Angie: And this is Carl Jenkins. He’s our chief of security.

Adrian Monk shakes Carl Jenkins’ hand.

Mr. Monk: Hi, Carl.
Carl: Hi.

Sharona Fleming hands Adrian Monk a wipe.

Mr. Monk: Thank you.

The marathon team watches as Adrian Monk wipes his hand.

Carl: You got a problem with me?
Mr. Monk: What? Oh, no, no, no.
Carl: You don’t want to shake a brother’s hand, you just say so. You don’t gotta go wiping it off.
Sharona: Oh, no. he does that to everybody.
Carl: Am I blind? Do I look like I’m blind? I saw what I saw.

Adrian Monk is speechless he turns to Angie Morrison and Tillie Graves. The two women look disappointingly on the floor.

Carl: I’m gonna go and lock up downstairs. If I stick around here, I might do something I’ll regret.

Carl Jenkins walks away.

Tillie: We’re all just people, Mr. Monk.
Mr. Monk: Of course, we are. I—I always have to—I’m not—
Sharona: Oh, no. He’s not.
Angie: What can we do for you?
Mr. Monk: I just need some information. How many people ran in the marathon today?
Angie: Six-thousand one hundred and eleven.
Tillie: People of all colors and creeds.
Mr. Monk: I’m sure they were. I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Sharona: Um, how do you keep track of them all?
Angie: Oh, that’ all computerized.

Angie Morrison goes over to the table and takes a minute device inside a plastic bag.

Angie: The runners are all issued on of these, and it attaches to the top of their shoe. There’s a teeny, tiny little computer chip inside there. Now, we’ve got scanners at the starting line and another at the finish line, and they read the computer chip. It’s all very modern. We’ve got everybody’s time right down to a 10th of a second.

They move to the computers.

Mr. Monk: Oh, but what if someone left the race and then came back later?

Angie Morrison chuckles.

Angie: Well, we’d know right away. We’ve got checkpoints all along the route.
Tillie: We had scanners every mile to keep track.
Sharona: Um, we’re interested in a runner named Trevor McDowell.
Angie: Oh, McDowell, number, uh, 948.

Angie Morrison takes a seat in front of one of the computers.

Angie: The police were asking about him earlier.

Angie Morrison opens Trevor McDowell’s file on the computer.

Angie: There he is. Yeah, he ran it in three hours, 41 minutes and 22 seconds. That’s a really respectable time.
Tillie: Quite respectable. All of our racers are winners, be they black, white or Latino. It takes many colors to make a rainbow.
Mr. Monk: Yes, ma’am. I—I’m a big rainbow guy.
Sharona: He loves rainbows.
Mr. Monk: About Mr. McDowell, did he miss any checkpoints?
Angie: Oh, let’s have a look. Uh, no. He ran the whole course start to finish. Paced himself beautifully, though.

At the police station, Leland Stottlemeyer is interrogating Mr. Zaleski.

Captain Stottlemeyer: Mr. Zaleski, how about I call you Arthur?
Arthur: Well, you can call me whatever he hell you want.
Captain Stottlemeyer: Good. How long were you and Gwen married?

Randy Disher is with Leland Stottlemeyer, while Sharona Fleming and Adrian Monk are at the adjacent room watching.

Arthur: Four years.
Captain Stottlemeyer: She walked out, and you still loved her.
Arthur: Sure, I had feelings for her.
Captain Stottlemeyer: I bet you did.
Arthur: Then she picks up with the dinette furniture salesman. TV guy. That’s humiliating. You were jealous. You became furious.

Adrian Monk notices a smudge on the one-way mirror. He starts wiping it off.
Randy Disher leans close to Arthur Zaleski.

Lt. Disher: I’d feel the same way.
Arthur: I don’t like this, being here.

Adrian Monk continues wiping the smudge off.

Captain Stottlemeyer: You’re not supposed to like being here, Arthur. This is an interrogation room.

Adrian Monk moistens the mirror then resumes wiping it.

Captain Stottlemeyer: It’s not a sports bar.

Adrian Monk turns to Sharona Fleming.

Mr. Monk: I need a wipe.
Sharona: Why?
Mr. Monk: Do you have a wipe?
Captain Stottlemeyer: So, why were you harassing your ex-wife? We’ve got the phone records, Artie. You were calling her twice a day. I don’t call my wife twice a day.
Arthur: I was worried about her.
Lt. Disher: You call it “worried”. The judge called it “stalking”.

Adrian Monk uses the moist towelette to wipe the smudge off the mirror.

Arthur: That was three years ago.

The window starts squeaking. Randy Disher turns to the mirror.

Captain Stottlemeyer: What happened, Arthur? You went over there to talk, right?

Adrian Monk continues wiping.

Captain Stottlemeyer: You lost your temper trying to talk to her?

The squeaking contintues. Randy Disher is mortified. Leland Stottlemeyer tries to ignore the squeaking.

Captain Stottlemeyer: Everybody has a temper.
Arthur: What is that? What is that noise?
Captain Stottlemeyer: Excuse me.

Leland Stottlemeyer makes his way to the door and signals to Randy Disher.

Captain Stottlemeyer: Come on.
Lt. Disher: Okay, one more time from the top. So, how long were you and Gwen married?

Leland Stottlemeyer enters the adjacent room where Adrian Monk and Sharona Fleming are.

Mr. Monk: How’s it going in there?
Captain Stottlemeyer: It’s going great, except he wants to know what the little squeaky noise behind the mirror is.
Mr. Monk: That might have been me. There’s a smudge. I think it’s on your side.

Adrian Monk offers the wipe to Leland Stottlemeyer.

Mr. Monk: You can get it when you go back in.

Sharona Fleming grabs the wipe from Adrian Monk.

Sharona: I’m sorry.
Mr. Monk: You think he’s the guy?
Captain Stottlemeyer: It’s possible. He had a restraining order against him at one time, which apparently he honored. He says he was at home in bed at the time. I’d say he’s a D plus, a C-minus. What do you got?
Mr. Monk: Trevor McDowell.
Captain Stottlemeyer: No, he was running the marathon. It checked out.
Mr. Monk: I don’t know how he did it, but he’s the guy. I’ll tell you why.

Randy Disher enters the room.

Mr. Monk: Because Gwen was killed first, then she was thrown off the balcony. That’s the key. Why would the killer draw attention to himself? There’s only one reason: to establish the exact time of death. He wanted everyone to know precisely when she died. Why? Because he had an alibi. An airtight alibi.
Sharona: What do you think?
Captain Stottlemeyer: What do I think? I think it’s not possible, because he was wearing a computer chip. And he passed all the checkpoints.
Mr. Monk: I know. You’re right. That’s right.
Captain Stottlemeyer: Unless he took the chip off and passed it off to another runner.
Mr. Monk: That’s interesting.
Captain Stottlemeyer: Yeah. Maybe he dropped it in another guy’s pocket so it looked like he finished the race.
Mr. Monk: That’s very interesting. You are a genius.
Captain Stottlemeyer: Anything else I can help you with?
Mr. Monk: Give—give him a wipe. Just give him one.
Captain Stottlemeyer: Smudge stays. You go.

Adrian Monk and Sharona Fleming return to the marathon office.

Angie: So now, we’re looking for two runners.
Mr. Monk: That’s right. We’re looking for another runner who had the exact same time as Trevor McDowell.
Sharona: Right, right, right. Someone who was neck and neck with him for the whole race.
Angie: Neck and neck. Okay. That shouldn’t be too hard.

Tillie Graves arrives.

Mr. Monk: Hi, Tillie.

Adrian Monk waves at Tillie Graves. Still upset, she just looks at him.

Angie: No, sorry. Nobody else had the exact same time. Look, um, are we finished here?
Sharona: Oh, just one more thing. Um, was there another runner whose time at all the checkpoints was close to McDowell’s, like within a second or two?
Angie: Close?
Sharona: Mm-hmm.

Angie Morrison searches the computer.

Angie: Uh, well, look at that. There’s a runner here who ran the whole race just a few paces from Mr. McDowell. Number 534. Here’s the printout.

Sharona Fleming looks at the printout.

Mr. Monk: Who is it? Sharona?
Sharona: Tonday.
Mr. Monk: Tonday?

Adrian Monk and Sharona Fleming visit Tonday Mawwaka in his hotel.

Sharona: You know, I read an article about this hotel. You know how much a suite costs?
Mr. Monk: Huh?
Sharona: $2,000 a night. You said Tonday was a simple, quiet man, like a poet.
Mr. Monk: So?
Sharona: So, how many poets could afford to stay here?
Mr. Monk: What are you saying?
Sharona: I’m saying that he could have made some extra money helping a rich furniture salesman kill his mistress.
Mr. Monk: Shh! That is not possible, okay? It is off the table. End of discussion.

Sharona Fleming looks at the fruit basket on the coffee table.

Mr. Monk: Don’t touch anything.
Sharona: You’re telling me not to touch anything?
Mr. Monk: That’s Tonday’s fruit.

Tonday Mawwaka arrives.

Tonday: Sorry to keep you waiting. Tonday Mawwaka.
Mr. Monk: Adrian Monk.
Tonday: Ah, Adrian! How nice to meet you.
Mr. Monk: Sir, I—I have admired you ever since I was a very strong child—
Sharona: Young child.
Mr. Monk: Young child. This is Sharona, my—my—something.

Sharona Flmeing sighs.

Mr. Monk: I’m his assistant.
Sharona: It’s an honor to meet you, Mr. Mawwaka.
Tonday: Just call me Tonday. Please, come on. Let’s sit. Make yourselves comfortable.
Mr. Monk: Sir, I saw you run in Los Angeles in 1973.

Tonday Mawwaka laughs.

Tonday: The big comeback.
Mr. Monk: Yeah.
Tonday: I still don’t know how I did it.
Mr. Monk: Well, it changed my life.

Tonday Mawwaka takes a seat.

Mr. Monk: You—you were—you are a –
Sharona: Um—Adrian was a runner too.
Tonday: Ah, is that so? What were you running?
Mr. Monk: I—I—I ran what you ran. Just not as fast.
Tonday: You still run?
Mr. Monk: No, no, I quit.
Tonday: Why?
Mr. Monk: There—there was an incident. In high school, during a race.
Tonday: So they broke your spirits. You know, spirits are very fragile easy to break, but not impossible to repair.
Mr. Monk: I like that.
Tonday: You know, the hotel manager tells me that you were with the police?
Mr. Monk: I’m helping the police. A young woman has been killed.
Tonday: Oh.

Room service arrives.

Tonday: Have some tea!
Sharona: Oh, thank you.
Tonday: There you go.

Adrian Monk fusses with the numerous remote controls in Tonday Mawwaka’s hotel suite.

Mr. Monk: Tonday, we’re interested in another runner Trevor McDowell. Do you know him?
Tonday: No.
Mr. Monk: No, okay. All right. Wait a second.
Sharona: Okay. Just try—try that one.
Mr. Monk: Huh? No. I tried this one already. It doesn’t—I tried it.
Sharona: Well, you’re holding it the wrong way. You’re not even—give it to me.

Sharona Fleming pulls the remote control from Adrian Monk’s hand.

Mr. Monk: No, let me do it. I can do it. What are you talking about.

Tonday Mawwaka takes one remote control and turns on the television.

Mr. Monk: Oh, there—there it is. Thank--thank you.
Tonday: That old man is me?
Mr. Monk: That’s you.

Tonday Mawwaka chuckles.

Mr. Monk: And there’s McDowell right behind you.

Adrian Monk pauses the tape.

Sharona: According to the computer, he said that he was behind you or just in front of you for the whole race.
Mr. Monk: Okay, and later—later in the race—here—

Adrian Monk pauses the tape.

Mr. Monk: You see. McDowell’s disappeared. He doesn’t show up again until the very end.

Sharona Fleming drinks the tea.

Mr. Monk: Do you remember if he was near you the entire time?
Tonday: I’m sorry. When I’m running, I’m not thinking about other runners. I’m testing myself.
Sharona: Um, I—I really love this place. Um, does the marathon committee pay for all of this?
Tonday: You ask me if I can afford a suite like this?
Sharona: No.
Tonday: Well, a month ago, I signed a big contract with a big shoe company. Let me guess. Size ten.

Adrian Monk has his hands in his leather shoes as he jogs out of the revolving door with his new pair of rubber shoes.

Mr. Monk: Did you hear what he said to me? “From one runner to another.”
Sharona: Remember Tonday gave me some tea?
Mr. Monk: Yeah.
Sharona: Well, I saved the tea bag.

Sharona Fleming pulls out the tea bag.

Mr. Monk: What is it?
Sharona: Chamomile.

Adrian Monk still in his suit, but wearing his new sneakers practices running at a park trail.

Mr. Monk: Let it go. It’s a coincidence.
Sharona: You think it’s just a coincidence that your hero, Tonday, drinks chamomile tea?
Mr. Monk: Yes, I do. I love these sneakers.
Sharona: Oh, I see, I see. Whenever I think of something, it’s just a coincidence. Whenever you think of something it’s a work of genius.
Mr. Monk: Exactly. It was McDowell. He did it.
Sharona: How?
Mr. Monk: Don’t know yet.
Sharona: Okay. Well, according to this video, Tonday came through here at 47 minutes, 15 seconds, and McDowell was a few seconds behind him.
Mr. Monk: Amazing. Am I touching the ground? Because I don’t feel the ground.

Adrian Monk runs around Sharona Fleming.

Mr. Monk: Did I mention these were a gift from my friend Tonday?
Sharona: What are you doing?
Mr. Monk: I’m running circles around you. That’s how fast I am.
Sharona: Oh, you think you’re faster than me, huh?

Adrian Monk scoffs. Sharona Fleming marks the dirt.

Sharona: Okay, from here to that pole and back.
Mr. Monk: Fine.
Sharona: This should be easy for you. You’re good at touching poles.
Mr. Monk: Oh, now I’m not gonna be able to run because I’m laughing so hard.
Sharona: Okay. Ready, get set, go—
Mr. Monk: All right, hold it, wait.

Sharona Fleming prepares to run, but Adrian Monk stops her.

Mr. Monk: This line’s a little crooked.

Adrian Monk takes the twig that Sharona Fleming used earlier to mark the ground.

Sharona: It’s straight enough.

Adrian Monk marks the dirt.

Mr. Monk: Okay, good.
Sharona: On your mark—
Mr. Monk: Hold it, hold it.

Adrian Monk takes the twig.

Mr. Monk: Wait.

Adrian Monk kicks the dirt.

Sharona: It doesn’t have to be perfect.
Mr. Monk: Just a second.

Adrian Monk slowly marks the dirt.

Sharona: Oh! Forget it! Just forget it!

Sharona Fleming walks away, but Adrian Monk continues to mark the dirt.

Sharona: He’s like—he’s driving me insane.
Mr. Monk: That’s it! I got it! It’s perfect now. W—wait.

At another part of the park, Sharona Fleming and Adrian Monk cross a short bridge across a lake.

Sharona: Okay, after this point, McDowell is no longer visible on the tape.
Mr. Monk: This is it. It’s a blind spot right here. You see how the path curves? No room for spectators. If he timed it right. He’d be completely alone. He could duck behind those bushes. Nobody would miss him. When were they here?
Sharona: Um, one hour and five minutes into the race.
Mr. Monk: Start the watch. We’re gonna time this out.

Adrian Monk and Sharona Fleming walk over to the bushes.

Mr. Monk: Stop the watch.
Sharona: What is it?

Adrian Monk picks some blooms on the grass.

Mr. Monk: Smell it.
Sharona: Ooh, no.
Mr. Monk: It’s chamomile. We’ll have the lab check for traces at the crime scene.
Sharona: What was he doing here?
Mr. Monk: Changing his clothes. Start the stopwatch.

Adrian Monk pretends he’s changing his clothes.

Sharona: What are you doing?
Mr. Monk: Changing my clothes. Would you mind? Please.

Sharona Fleming reluctantly looks away as Adrian Monk pretends to remove his pants.

Mr. Monk: Then he had to get across town.
Sharona: Oh! There’s a road over there.

Adrian Monk and Sharona Fleming go down the road.

Sharona: He couldn’t have parked here. This street was blocked off on Sunday, remember? He couldn’t have parked anywhere.
Mr. Monk: Well, maybe he didn’t drive.
Sharona: Then how did he get across town?

The tram arrives. Adrian Monk points at it. Adrian Monk and Sharona Fleming ride the tram.

Mr. Monk: How are we doing?
Sharona: Seventeen minutes, twenty seconds.

A passenger pushes Adrian Monk.

Man: Excuse me.
Sharona: Why don’t you sit down?

Adrian Monk shakes his head.

Sharona: Well, at least hold the pole.

Adrian Monk shakes his head.

Sharona: How do you explain this: I touch everything you’re afraid to touch, and I never get sick.
Mr. Monk: I can’t explain it. It’s inexplicable.
Sharona: No. You’re inexplicable. So are you gonna tell me?
Mr. Monk: What?
Sharona: Why you quit running. You said there was an incident.
Mr. Monk: Uh, ancient history.
Sharona: Come on. You know you’re gonna tell me.
Mr. Monk: Okay, fine. May 2, 1974.

Flashback: Young Adrian Monk is stretching.

Mr. Monk: Our high school track team. We had a great year. We made it to the All-State conference. It was the biggest day of my life. It was all tied up. It came down to the last event: the 1500 meter. Everyone was depending on me.

The referee raises the gun.

Mr. Monk: But just before the gun. I looked down and my laces were, you know, uneven.

The referee fires the starter gun. Young Adrian Monk is still at the starting line redoing his laces.

Mr. Monk: It was the first time that I had a problem like that in public.

His coach shouts at him.

Coach: Come on!

The other runners finish their first lap, but young Adrian Monk is still not finished fussing with his laces. He throws his shoes in the trash.

Mr. Monk: Never ran again.
Sharona: That must have been terrible.
Mr. Monk: I got over it.
Sharona: No, you didn’t.
Mr. Monk: That’s true, I didn’t. Thank you.
Sharona: Ooh! This is our stop.

Adrian Monk and Sharona Fleming get off at Lombard Street.

Sharona: Now we run to the top of the hill.
Mr. Monk: That hill?
Sharona: Yeah. I thought you made All State.

Sharona Fleming followed by Adrian Monk enters the building.

Sharona: Okay, it’s been 24 minutes and 10 seconds.

Adrian Monk pants.

Sharona: Are you okay?
Mr. Monk: Yeah, yeah. That was some hill. It didn’t look that steep from the bottom.
Sharona: You want to stop?
Mr. Monk: No.

Adrian Monk pushes the elevator button with his elbow. He continues to breathe heavily.

Sharona: You see, I don’t think McDowell took an elevator. He wouldn’t want to be seen, right?

Sharona Fleming walks up the stairwell. Adrian Monk is a little far behind her.

Sharona: Just one more flight!
Mr. Monk: Why would someone choose to live on the 21st floor?

Sharona Fleming pants a bit. She stops to write on a notepad. Adrian Monk finally catches up. He is panting heavily.

Sharona: Are you all right?
Mr. Monk: I’m good.
Sharona: Your eyes are crossed.

Adrian Monk shakes it off.

Sharona: They’re okay now.
Mr. Monk: Let’s go.

Adrian Monk and Sharona Fleming enter Gwen’s apartment.

Sharona: You don’t think he knocked?
Mr. Monk: No. He had his own key to let himself in. Okay, okay, you’re Gwen. The TV was on, so she’s probably sitting here, doing her nails.
Mr. Monk: I’m the killer. I let myself in. I let myself in.

Tired Adrian Monk sits on the couch.

Sharona: he sat on the couch?
Mr. Monk: I can do it from here.

Adrian Monk lies down.

Mr. Monk: Okay, okay. She hears him. She turns around.
Sharona: You’re Gwen! She turns around! She turns—

Sharona Fleming turns around.

Mr. Monk: Okay. “Trevir, I thought you were running the marathon.” They struggle. Struggle, struggle. He strangles her. Drags her off to the balcony.

Sharona Fleming walks to the balcony with her hand around her neck.

Mr. Monk: Go! Come on! He’s in a hurry! Go!

Sharona Fleming pretends to go over the edge.

Mr. Monk: Okay, over she goes. What’s the time?

Sharona Fleming stops the watch.

Sharona: 39 minutes.
Mr. Monk: 39 minutes.
Sharona: Okay, let’s go.
Mr. Monk: Okay, let’s go.

Sharona Fleming makes her way to the door. Adrian Monk is still lying on the couch.

Sharona: What are you doing?
Mr. Monk: Uh, I think he took a nap.
Sharona: Yeah, you wish.

Adrian Monk and Sharona Fleming visit the McDowell furniture store.

Sharona: Oh, my God. I love this chair. It vibrates.
Mr. Monk: Sharona, we are not here to shop. This is our primary suspect.
Sharona: Well, maybe we can get a primary suspect discount.

Trevor McDowell approaches Adrian Monk and Sharona Fleming.

Trevor: Well, well, well! If it isn’t Mr. Monk and…Sharona, am I right?
Sharona: Yeah.
Trevor: What can I do for you?
Mr. Monk: Do you have a minute, sir?
Trevor: I have all the time in the world. As a matter of fact, there’s a sale on all the convertible sofas in stock if you’re interested.
Mr. Monk: No, thanks.
Trevor: I’ll make you a great deal. Free home delivery.
Mr. Monk: We’re not here to shop.
Sharona: Although, if it turns out you’re innocent. I’d—I’d like to talk to you about that recliner.
Mr. Monk: Sharona.
Sharona: Um—do you know Tonday Mawwaka?
Trevor: I know of him. I’ve never met him, I believe he was running behind me for most of the race.
Mr. Monk: We checked the records. You never turned in your computer chip.
Trevor: I forgot. And then later I misplaced it.
Mr. Monk: You’re crooked.
Trevor: I beg your pardon?

Adrian Monk walks over to the life size picture of Trevor McDowell and fixes it.

Mr. Monk: Show him the picture.

Sharona Fleming shows Trevor McDowell the picture.

Sharona: Is that you at the finish line?

Trevor McDowell takes the picture and sighs.

Trevor: Yes.
Sharona: You ran 26 miles, and you’re not sweating?
Trevor: I don’t sweat that much. You know, some runners don’t sweat at all. Is that everything?
Mr. Monk: But here’s what’s been bothering me.

Adrian Monk shows him another picture.

Mr. Monk: This is you around mile five. Look at your shirt. It’s completely drenched. Here’s what happened. You had a problem. Her name was Gwen Zaleski. She didn’t want to break it off. Maybe she threatened to tell your wife everything—

Adrian Monk goes over to another one of Trevor McDowell’s crooked life size pictures and fixes it.

Mr. Monk: And ruin your perfect little world. So, you disposed of her. You tossed her off the balcony like a bag of garbage.
Trevor: Mr. Monk, I love my family. They’re my life. Do you think I’m gonna let somebody like you or anybody else take that away from me? So, true or false, Mr. Monk? According to the computer, I ran that entire race from start to finish. True or false?
Mr. Monk: True.

A woman pages Trevor McDowell.

Woman over the PA: Trevor, it’s your wife. Line two.
Mr. Monk: It’s your wife, Trevor.

Adrian Monk points up.

Mr. Monk: Line two.

Leland Stottlemeyer is deep in thought. He has a back scratcher on his forehead. Randy Disher knocks then enters his office. He exhales.

Lt. Disher: The Zaleski alibi checks out. He was in bed making a phone call at the exact time of death.
Captain Stottlemeyer: Yeah, it’s not the ex-husband.
Lt. Disher: No, sir. So, uh, where does that leave us?
Captain Stottlemeyer: It leaves us with McDowell.
Lt. Disher: The boyfriend?
Captain Stottlemeyer: Yeah.
Lt. Disher: He checked out. He ran the whole race.
Captain Stottlemeyer: Okay, let’s say that McDowell did pass the chip off to another runner.
Lt. Disher: That was your idea, sir.
Captain Stottlemeyer: You’re damn right it was.
Lt. Disher: You’re thinking Tonday.
Captain Stottlemeyer: No, no. Their times don’t match up exactly.
Lt. Disher: Well, then who?
Captain Stottlemeyer: All right. Here’s my idea.

Leland Stottlemeyer turns over the whiteboard.

Captain Stottlemeyer: Let’s say there were six runners.
Lt. Disher: Six?
Captain Stottlemeyer: Yeah, Tonday, McDowell, and these four guys: Harvester, Blanchard, Crowe and Davidson. They pass the chip back and forth among them. They were all running in the vicinity and—
Lt. Disher: Like a conspiracy.
Captain Stottlemeyer: Well, no. I’ve worked the time out on this graph.

Leland Stottlemeyer takes his graph.

Captain Stottlemeyer: Passing it back and forth, the time works out almost exactly. What do you think?
Lt. Disher: Yeah, this is worth looking into, sir.
Captain Stottlemeyer: It’s all—no, it’s not, it’s insane.

Leland Stottlemeyer takes the graph. He crumples it and throws it away.

Captain Stottlemeyer: There is absolutely no connection between those six men.
Lt. Disher: Yeah, you’re right. It’s—I was just playing devil’s advocate with that. Uh—

Leland Stottlemeyer plays the video of the marathon. Randy Disher exhales and watches the marathon with Leland.

Reporter: There is something you don’t see every day. A runner in this race with four legs.
Lt. Disher: Hang on a second. Stop the tape. What’s that right there?

Leland Stottlemeyer pauses the tape.

Lt. Disher: Go—go back a little.

Leland Stottlemeyer rewinds the tape.

Lt. Disher: Is that a dog?
Captain Stottlemeyer: Yeah, it’s a poodle.
Lt. Disher; Maybe he put the chip in the dog collar.
Captain Stottlemeyer: That’s a little poodle. Can a little poodle run 26 miles?
Lt. Disher: Maybe he drugged it. I mean, if it’s on drugs, yeah.

Leland Stottlemeyer leans closer to the TV screen.

Lt. Disher: I can call a vet.

Adrian Monk stretches as he watches the tape of the marathon.

Reporter: And, of course, our cameras will be there at the finish line and our microphones as well. We’ll have interviews with the winners, the lead runners and also a coverage of the presentation of the trophy. And here comes the group that everybody’s waiting for as they run through the Castro area. Once again, a huge applause for the ageless Tonday Mawwaka, still running steady and acknowledging the fans and he’s loving this, and why not?

Adrian Monk leans on the wall to do some more stretching.

Reporter: Let’s get a shot now from our motorcycle cam, just ahead of Tonday’s group.

Adrian Monk has a bright idea.

Reporter: And once again, of course, Tonday has told us he’s planning to call it a career after this, but hey, he’s said that before, and besides, there are various rumors—

Adrian Monk pauses the tape and smiles.
Sharona Fleming arrives and finds Adrian Monk on the street.

Sharona: Are you all right?
Mr. Monk: I’m fine.
Sharona: What happened? You said it was a matter of life or death.
Mr. Monk: I know how he did it.
Sharona: What are you talking about? Who?

Adrian Monk in his jogging outfit enters Sharona Fleming’s car.

Mr. Monk: McDowell. I know how he killed her. I figured it out.
Sharona: You couldn’t tell me over the phone?
Mr. Monk: Well, I wanted to see your face light up when I told ya.

Adrian Monk puts on his seatbelt. He turns to Sharona Fleming. She gives him a piercing look.

Mr. Monk: Okay, I’ll take a rain check on that lighting up thing. Come on, let’s go.

At the McDowell’s furniture store, the news is on the television sets.

Reporter: And in other news, a private memorial service was held this morning for Gwen Zaleski, the young actress who was slain this Sunday.

Trevor McDowell stops as he sees the news.

Reporter: A department spokesman said they have a number of leads and expect to make an arrest—

Trevor McDowell grabs the remote control from a customer and turns off the television sets. He turns to his employee.

Trevor: Cover the office for me. I’ll be right back.

Adrian Monk and Sharona Fleming are still in the car.

Mr. Monk: Take the next exit.
Sharona: Where are we going?
Mr. Monk: You’ll see. Sharona, it was right in front of us. We were looking at it all wrong. We thought that Trevor McDowell gave his computer chip to another runner.
Sharona: Like Tonday.
Mr. Monk: Like Tonday, but no other runner had the exact same time, right?
Sharona: Right.
Mr. Monk: I was just watching the tape again, and I realized it wasn’t another runner. There was somebody else who ran that whole race from start to finish.
Sharona: Who?
Mr. Monk: The TV camera bike.

Flashback: Trevor McDowell is at the marathon before it started.

Mr. Monk: McDowell never even attached the chip to his shoe. He stuck it somewhere on the vehicle.

Trevor McDowell pretends to tie his shoe and attaches the chip under the TV camera bike.

Mr. Monk: He stuck it somewhere on the vehicle. Maybe he taped it or used one of those magnetic hide-a-key deals. McDowell started the race like everybody else. He followed Tonday and the bike for a few miles. Then, when he got to the curve in the road, Trevor McDowell quit the race, but his computer chip continued on. It didn’t miss a single checkpoint.

Trevor McDowell takes the bag he hid in the bushes.

Mr. Monk: He had a change of clothes hidden in the bushes.
Sharona: Near the bach of chamomile.
Mr. Monk: Exactly. Then after the murder—

Trevor McDowell hides, waits then joins the race again.

Mr. Monk: He reentered the race just before the end. The finish line was mass confusion. It was easy to rejoin the race. And that was it. He had an airtight alibi. It was the perfect crime.
Sharona: but what happened to the chip?
Mr. Monk: I think it’s still on the bike. There was no reason for him to retrieve it. Nobody knew it was there. And even if they did find it, they wouldn’t know what it was. Here! Here we are.

Adrian Monk and Sharona Fleming walk to the parking lot.

Mr. Monk: Looks like all the vehicles are parked back here.
Sharona: Uh-huh.

Trevor McDowell hides behind a dumpster.

Sharona: Oh, my God! There’s McDowell!

Trevor McDowell makes his way to the TV camera bike.

Mr. Monk: We gotta get to that chip before he does.

Adrian Monk prepares to climb the chicken fence.

Mr. Monk: Uhg!
Sharona: What’s wrong?
Mr. Monk: It’s all rusty.
Sharona: Okay, okay, it’s okay. I’ll do it. Give me a boost.
Mr. Monk: What?
Sharona: Just put your hands like this.
Mr. Monk: You’re gonna step in my hand?
Sharona: That’s how you give somebody a boost. Come on!
Mr. Monk: I don’t think so.
Sharona: Adrian, that chip is the only thing that connects him to the murder. If he finds it, he’ll destroy it and then we can’t nail him. Give me a boost!
Mr. Monk: Let’s just think. Maybe we could build a little ladder.
Sharona: Out of what?
Mr. Monk: You know, branches and rocks.

Sharona Fleming watches Trevor McDowell.

Sharona: He found it! He found the chip! Will you give me the boost? Hurry up! Hurry up! Come on!
Mr. Monk: All right, all right.

Sharona Fleming raises his foot.

Mr. Monk: Not that foot! Not that foot!
Sharona: Why?
Mr. Monk: The other foot. You stepped on something with that one. Yeah. Go. Go!

Sharona Fleming climbs up the chicken wire.

Mr. Monk: You got it?
Sharona: Wait. Wait. Okay. Okay, I—wait, wait, wait!

Sharona Fleming is on top of the chicken wire on her way to go over the barbed wire on top of the fence. Trevor McDowell sees Adrian Monk and Sharona Fleming.

Mr. Monk: What?
Sharona: He saw us!
Mr. Monk: McDowell!

Trevor McDowell runs.

Sharona: Adrian, run!
Mr. Monk: What?
Sharona: Adrian, run after him! You’re faster! You can do it!

Adrian Monk runs after Trevor McDowell. Sharona Fleming is still hanging on the fence.

Sharona: Go, Adrian! He’s heading for the beach!

Adrian Monk catches up, but he’s on the other side of the fence.

Mr. Monk: McDowell!

Trevor McDowell climbs over the chicken wire. Adrian Monk runs after Trevor McDowell, he grabs his suit, but Trevor takes it off. Right by the shore, Adrian Monk catches Trevor. He pushes him on the sand. Adrian Monk gets up and starts jumping around cheering. Sharona Fleming arrives.

Mr. Monk: Did you see that? Did you see that? He had about 40 yards on me!

Trevor McDowell gets up and slowly makes his way to the beach.

Sharona: I know. Look behind you!
Mr. Monk: What?
Sharona: Look behind you!

Trevor McDowell throws the hide-a-key with the chip in it at the water.

Trevor: There goes your evidence, Monk!

Trevor McDowell lies on the sand. Adrian Monk kneels with disappointment plastered all over his face.
Sharona Fleming goes to the water and takes the hide-a-key..
A police officer leads Trevor McDowell to the police car.

Trevor: Officer, just wait a minute. Do you know who I am?
Officer: Yes, sir, you sold me a dinette set last year.
Trevor: Oh.
Officer: Watch your head.

Adrian Monk walks over to the police car.

Mr. Monk: Trev, you might want to make a note in case it ever comes up again: these new plastic hide-a-keys, turns out they don’t sink. Yeah, they float.

Adrian Monk and Sharona Fleming meet Tonday Mawwaka at the entrance of his hotel.

Mr. Monk: Tonday!
Tonday: Hey!

Sharona Fleming and Adrian Monk help Tonday Mawwaka with his luggage.

Tonday: You shouldn’t have done this. I mean. I could have taken a taxi to the airport.
Sharona: It’s no problem.
Mr. Monk: We wanted to say good-bye.
Tonday: Uh-huh.

Adrian Monk speaks to Tonday Mawwaka in his language.

Mr. Monk: Is that right?
Tonday: Oh, close. Adrian, did you solve your case?

Adrian Monk nods.

Tonday: Ah! I knew you would. I remember thinking, “This man is stronger than he thinks he is. You know, he can run the race!” Here, I’ve got something for you.
Mr. Monk: Oh, no. Tonday, I can’t accept anything else.
Tonday: After we met, I had them send it to me.

Tonday Mawwaka hands something to Adrian Monk.

Mr. Monk: It’s the—it’s the headband you wore in Los Angeles, 1973.
Tonday: Adrian, I can tell you’re searching for something. Life is a long and difficult race. You must hang on. Hold on to it. Amandla. Amandla. That means “courage”.
Mr. Monk: Thank you, my friend. Thank you for this.

Adrian Monk presses the headband to his cheek.

Mr. Monk: This means the world to me.
Tonday: I haven’t worn it since the big race, or washed it.

Tonday Mawwaka makes his way to the car. Adrian Monk looks grossed out. He takes the headband away from his face.

Mr. Monk: Baggie. Baggie. Baggie. Baggie.
Sharona: Just give it to me.
Mr. Monk: But be careful with it. Don’t wrinkle it, all right? Don’t even look at it. You can—you can glance at it, but don’t stare.
Sharona: It’s just a sweaty piece of cotton.

Sharona Fleming throws the headband inside her purse.

Mr. Monk: Hey! What are you—don’t—you’re crushing it now. Just give it back to me. Here.
Sharona: Just go in the car. Go in the car.

Sharona Fleming closes the back door of her station wagon.

Mr. Monk: You think it could be dry-cleaned? Courage. Yeah.

This is not the actual script. This is my own transcription of the episode. The “Mr. Monk and the Marathon Man” episode was written by Mitch Markowitz. Monk is owned by Universal Media Studios in association with Mandeville Films and Touchstone Television.


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