Sunday, February 17, 2008

Mr. Monk and the Psychic – Monk Transcript 1.2

Adrian Monk watch a psychic read tarot cardsA fast car drives by. A cell phone rings. A distraught woman speaks.

Kate: Harry! Thank God you called.

Harry unloads a ramp from his truck.

Harry: Kate, where are you now?
Kate: Oh, I’m on my way. I’ll be there in 20 minutes. How is she?
Harry: I don’t know. The veterinarian won’t let me see her.
Kate: Well, what did they say?
Harry: She was hit by a car. That’s all they know.
Kate: Oh! Oh, God.  Continue reading...

Harry lays the ramps on the road.

Harry: They think her back legs are broken.
Kate: My poor baby.

Kate’s small dog at the backseat of Harry’s car whines.

Kate: I don’t know how. I don’t know how it happened. How did she gout out of the yard?
Harry: Oh, I don’t know. Maria must have left the gate open.
Kate: No, I don’t think so, I checked it myself.
Harry: Where are you now?
Kate: Oh, I’m uh—I’m going past the ranger station. Oh, God, if something’s happened to her, I will never forgive myself.
Harry: Just hurry!
Kate: I’m—I’m going as fast as I can.

Kate screams as she sees the ramp and her car is propelled off to the cliff.
Harry watches as the car crashes down the mountain.
Sharona enters the SFPD press conference and is stopped by an officer, while Monk busies himself with fixing the flag’s trimmings.

Officer: Whoa. Press pass?
Sharona: No.
Officer: Sorry, I can’t let you in.
Sharona: Officer, this is Adrian Monk.

Sharona points at the oblivious Adrian Monk.

Officer: Sorry, sir. I didn’t know.
Sharona: Can we stand over there? We don’t like to be touched. Adrian. Adrian! Come on.

The SFPD press conference begins.

Spokesperson: As you can imagine, the past three days have been very difficult, very painful for the entire department. Our prayers are with the Ashcombe family. The former commissioner is here and has asked to say a few words. Commissioner.

The commissioner takes the podium.

Commissioner: It’s been 72 hours since my wife Katherine disappeared. I wanna thank everyone for their prayers and good wishes. It’s meant the world to me. There’s someone out there who knows what happened to my wife. I’m asking you to look into your heart and to come forward…with any information you might have. To Kate, if you can hear this, hang in there, babe. I love you.

Mr. Monk feels for the commissioner and tries to hold back his tears.

Commissioner: Don’t give up.

The commissioner leaves and the reporters start clamoring for questions. Captain Stottlemeyer ushers him away from the reporters and spots Adrian.

Captain Stottlemeyer: Monk, what are you doing here?

Monk has tears in his eyes.

Mr. Monk: I wanna help.
Captain Stottlemeyer: You wanna help? Say a prayer for the man.
Mr. Monk: I can do more than that, Captain. You know I can.
Captain Stottlemeyer: Can you imagine what that man’s going through?
Mr. Monk: Yes, I can.
Captain Stottlemeyer: Come on. Follow me.

Captain Stottlemeyer leads Monk to the commissioner.

Captain Stottlemeyer: Commisioner. Harry.

Harry turns to the captain.

Captain Stottlemeyer: Adrian Monk.
Harry: Yes, of course. How are you, Detective?
Mr. Monk: Former detective.

The two shake hands.

Harry: Not for long, I hope. We miss you. Thank you for coming.

Sharona quickly hands Monk a wipe.

Mr. Monk: Sir, if there’s anything I can do, I’m available 24/7.

Adrian Monk notices the lint on the commissioner’s suit and brushes it off.

Harry: I appreciate that.
Mr. Monk: I’ve become pretty familiar with this type of crime.
Captain Stottlemeyer: There is no crime yet, Monk. This is a Missing Persons case.
Mr. Monk: Of course, I know. I know that. I’m sorry.

Adrian starts fussing with the commissioner’s suit again.

Sharona: Adrian.
Mr. Monk: I just mean, if worse comes to worst and I pray it never does, I think I could be a real asset here.
Sharona: You won’t be sorry, sir. He is the best.
Harry: Well, how can I not accept an offer from Adrian Monk? Leland, see that he gets a full copy of the file and full access.
Captain Stottlemeyer: Yes, sir.
Harry: Welcome aboard, Detective.
Mr. Monk: Thank you sir.

Mr. Monk takes a final brush at Harry’s suit.

Mr. Monk: Thank you.

At the bottom of the cliff, a woman who is in her car wakes up.

Dolly: Where am I?

She gets out of the car.

Dolly: Where the hell—

The woman exhales, looks around and finds the wrecked car of Kate Ashcombe. She gasps.
Moments later, the police arrive. She gives her testimony to Lieutenant Randy Disher.

Dolly: She was calling me. She led me here. See, that’s the way it happens sometimes. I was driving the car, but her aura was guiding me. Write that down, Lieutenant. It was her aura. And then I woke up, and I was right here. See, she wanted me to find her. She didn’t want to lie for the rest of eternity under all that mud. I mean. Can you blame her?
Lt. Disher: And you never met Mrs. Ashcombe?
Dolly: No, never met her—not until this morning.
Lt. Disher: And do you know her husband at all?
Dolly: Never had the honor.
Captain Stottlemeyer: Is there anything else you can tell us, Miss Flint?
Dolly: Hell’s bells, Captain. You can call me Dolly. You’ve known me for 20 years.
Captain Stottlemeyer: Hello Dolly.

Dolly Flint laughs.

Dolly: Did he tell you? He arrested me three times—bunco and fraud. You always thought I was a quack, didn’t ya, huh, Captain? Never thought I’d actually find somebody. Oh, hi! Excuse me? Can you get a picture of me with the car?

Dolly Flint poses by the wreckage.

Captain Stottlemeyer: Hey.
Dolly: I’m just gonna—
Captain Stottlemeyer: Hey, no. Dolly. Dolly. He is a police photographer. He’s not from the National Enquirer.

Leland Stottlemeyer pulls her away from the wreckage.

Lt. Disher: Right this way.

Randy Disher takes a hold of her and leads her away.

Dolly: Can’t I just have one shot?

Leland Stottlemeyer looks up the cliff to find Sharona and Adrian looking down at the crime scene.
Adrian Monk studies the road.

Captain Stottlemeyer: What are you doing?
Mr. Monk: Look at this. Looks like something was maybe dragged along here.
Captain Stottlemeyer: What?
Mr. Monk: Something metal.
Captain Stottlemeyer: That could be anything.
Mr. Monk: But you see where the car ended up. Imagine the trajectory, it doesn’t make sense.
Captain Stottlemeyer: Don’t complicate things, Monk. She was probably doing 70 or 75 miles an hour when she missed the turn. Hey, did you hear who found the car?
Mr. Monk: I heard. Dolly Flint.
Captain Stottlemeyer: Crazy Dolly. Can you believe that?
Mr. Monk: No, I can’t.
Sharona: Monk doesn’t believe in psychics.
Mr. Monk: I believe in what I can see. I believe in what’s in front of me.
Sharona: You know how I found out that my ex was still seeing his old girlfriend?
Mr. Monk: Please, tell us.
Sharona: I psychic told me. And that’s a true story, and it was the best 35 bucks I ever spent.
Mr. Monk: Thirty-five bucks?
Captain Stottlemeyer: There have been cases—documented cases—where psychics have found missing kids, bodies. It happens.

Adrian Monk stammers.

Mr. Monk: Of course it happens! A thousand psychics making 10,000 predictions a year, two or three of them have to be right.

Siren wails. Leland Stottlemeyer sighs.

Captain Stottlemeyer: Here he is.

Sharona, Adrian and Leland watch as the commissioner steps out of the policecar.

Captain Stottlemeyer: You know, I was the best man at their wedding.
Mr. Monk: Really?
Captain Stottlemeyer: This is gonna kill him. Kill him.
Mr. Monk: God.

Leland Stottlemeyer walks away from Adrian and Sharona to meet Commissioner Harry Ashcombe.

Mr. Monk: That’s strange.
Sharona: What?
Mr. Monk: She went off the road here, but look at the tree. The tree’s intact. No broken branches.

Down at the crime scene, Leland talks to Commissioner Ashcombe as the paramedics prepare to load Kate Ashcombe’s dead body to the ambulance.

Captain Stottlemeyer: Harry, I really don’t think you should look.
Harry: Why not?
Captain Stottlemeyer: Because you should remember her like she was.
Harry: Leland, I have to se her. I have to say goodbye.

Leland Stottlemeyer pulls the sheet that covers Kate Aschombe’s corpse. Harry cries.

Harry: Katherine!

Dolly Flint approach the grieving commissioner.

Dolly: Hi.
Captain Stottlemeyer: Commissioner, this is Dolly Flint. She found your wife’s body.
Harry: Yes, of course.

Commissioner Ashcombe shakes Dolly Flint’s hand.

Harry: It’s amazing. I can’t thank you enough.
Dolly: I just wished I could have found her before she crossed over.

Commissioner Ashcombe turns his back on them to grieve and takes one last look at his wife’s dead body. Adrian watches from afar.
Adrian Monk goes down to the scene of the crime and stands on a plank to avoid stepping on mud.

Sharona: Adrian, don’t you want a closer look?
Mr. Monk: No, I—I can see from here.
Sharona: Would you like us to move the crash site a little closer to you?
Mr. Monk: No, I’m fine.

Dolly Flint slams her car door.

Dolly: Hi!
Mr. Monk: You found the body?
Dolly: Yeah. Are you a reporter?

Sharona runs to Dolly Flint

Sharona: Miss Flint? Hello. Um, my name is Sharona Fleming.

Sharona Fleming shakes Dolly Flint’s hand.

Sharona: And this is my friend—oh, excuse me—my boss, Adrian Monk. Um, he was consulting on the case before you showed up to solve it.

Sharona pats Dolly Flint’s hand.

Dolly: Why is he, uh, staring at me?
Sharona: I know, it’s a little creepy if you don’t know him.
Dolly: Excuse me.

Dolly wipes the mud off her bare feet.

Sharona: Uh, Miss Flint. I just have to say that it is an honor to meet you. I can’t tell you how much money I have wasted on those TV psychics. But you really have the power. I mean, the gift.

Dolly Flint wipes her hand.

Dolly: Well, apparently.
Sharona: Can I call you sometime for a private reading?
Dolly: Oh, yeah. But listen. The rates on my card no longer apply.

Dolly Flint takes a calling card from her car.

Dolly: They’ve gone up, as of about two hours ago. Here’s one for you, Mr. Monk.

Dolly waves a card at Adrian Monk.

Sharona: I’ll take it to him.
Dolly: Maybe I could help you with, uh, one of your cases sometime.

Sharona Fleming slips Dolly Flint’s calling card inside Adrian Monk’s suit pocket.

Dolly: Ciao.
Sharona: Bye.

Dolly Flint enters her car. Adrian Monk watches as she adjusts the driver’s seat. Dolly Flint drives away accidentally splashing Adrian with mud.
Adrian grunts and groans in disgust.
Sharona Fleming pulls out a wipe from her bag.

Sharona: Hold still. Hold still. It’s not the end of the world.
Mr. Monk: Did you see that?
Sharona: It’s just a little mud.
Mr. Monk: No, she moved her seat forward. When she got in the car, she moved her seat.

At the police station, Leland Stottlemeyer finds Adrian Monk in his office.

Captain Stottlemeyer: Oh, I’m sorry. I thought this was my office. Yeah, see, I’m confused because my name is on the door.
Mr. Monk: Don’t—don’t blame Sharona, Captain.

Sharona Fleming looks at Adrian Monk with disgust.

Captain Stottlemeyer: I have no intention of blaming Sharona.
Mr. Monk: I was just following up on the Ashcombe case.

Leland Stottlemeyer makes his way to his desk.

Captain Stottlemeyer: What happened here?
Mr. Monk: I took the liberty of straightening up a little.
Captain Stottlemeyer: Where is my crap?
Mr. Monk: It’s in your drawers. And of course, I had to throw some stuff away.

Leland Stottlemeyer pulls out one of the drawers.

Sharona: I—I’m sorry, sir. I tried to stop him, but—

Leland Stottlemeyer pulls out the things in his drawer.

Captain Stottlemeyer: There is no Ashcombe case, Monk. The inquest is over. This is what happened. It was raining. She was a terrible driver. She went off the road. A mudslide covered the car until—
Mr. Monk: Until the biggest flake in North America just happened to find it.
Captain Stottlemeyer: And you can’t stand that. Can you? Dolly Flint…showed you up, and you can’t stand it.

Leland Stottlemeyer starts messing up his desk.
Adrian Monk touches the lamp on his desk.

Sharona: Adrian, sit!

Adrian Monk sits down.

Mr. Monk: We have Dolly Flint’s file.
Captain Stottlemeyer: Yeah, I know she has a jacket, Monk. I made three of those collars myself.
Mr. Monk: Fraud, trespassing, reckless endangerment.
Captain Stottlemeyer: Yeah, she has a sleep disorder. She walks in her sleep. She’s got—um—what do you call it—som—
Mr. Monk: Do you know how many cases Dolly Flint offered to help with and failed? Two hundred and twenty.
Captain Stottlemeyer: So, she’s one for two hundred and twenty. It’s possible.
Mr. Monk: No, it’s not.
Captain Stottlemeyer: Yes, it is. She was photographed going through a red light last night.

Leland Stottlemeyer shows Adrian Monk the picture of Dolly Flint’s car beating a red light.

Captain Stottlemeyer: She was alone in the car.

Adrian Monk inspects the photograph.

Captain Stottlemeyer: It happened.

Adrian Monk and Sharona attend the memorial reception at the Ashcombe residence.

Mr. Monk: I’m not good at parties.
Sharona: It’s not a party. It’s a memorial service. This is a nice place. Obviously, whoever lives here doesn’t work for you.
Mr. Monk: The late Mrs. Ashcombe was richer than Canada.

Commissioner Harry Ashcombe approaches Adrian Monk.

Mr. Monk: Commissioner, I thought this might help.

Adrian Monk hands Harry Ashcombe a book.

Mr. Monk: When I lost Trudy, I—I read it every night.
Harry: Ralph Waldo Emerson.
Mr. Monk: Yes, sir.
Harry: Thank you, Adrian. And thank you for coming. It means the world to me.

Harry clasps Adrian Monk’s hand.

Harry: It looks like we won’t require your services after all. But I want you to know how much I appreciate your offer.

Adrian Monk forces a smile.

Sharona: Thank you.

Harry Ashcombe leaves. Sharona quickly rummages through her purse.

Sharona: Hold on.
Mr. Monk: No, no, bathroom. Bathroom! I need to wash.
Sharona: Just try upstairs.
Mr. Monk: Did you see that? It was a two-hander.

Adrian Monk runs up the stairs.

Sharona: I saw it. Just don’t make a scene.

Adrian Monk makes his way into a bedroom and notices clothing in boxes. He finds a pair of muddy boots. He thoroughly washes his hands then looks through one of the boxes. He finds Kate Ashcombe’s belongings in one of the boxes and takes out a bottle of her perfume.

Harry: The guest bathroom is down the hall.
Mr. Monk: Commissioner! I’m sorry. Uh, I was—I was, uh—I was—I was just—I mean—later—after—you now, before when we—I—okay, here’s the thing.
Harry: I can remember when you began this sentence. Everyone gets lost. The house was always too big for Katherine and me.

Harry Ashcombe takes the bottle of perfume from Adrian Monk.

Harry: Everyone gets lost. The house was always too big for Katherine and me. We didn’t buy it. It was a wedding gift from her father.
Mr. Monk: Ah.

Harry Ashcombe puts the perfume back in the box.

Harry: You understand, right? I mean, you lost your wife.
Mr. Monk: Uh, understand what, sir?
Harry: The natural desire to pack her things away. You don’t want them around to…remind you.
Mr. Monk: I guess I had the opposite reaction. I haven’t thrown anything of Trudy’s away. Not even a hair brush. Not even a hair from a hairbrush.

Downstairs, Randy Disher chats with Sharona by the buffet table.

Lt. Disher: So, uh, what, he leaves the house like twice a week now?
Sharona: What kind of question is that, hmm? He leaves the house all the time. He’s not disabled. He just gets a little anxious about—
Lt. Disher: Every single thing.
Sharona: Well, you know. The fact is, we’re getting offers from all over the country every day. I mean. I had to disconnect my phone. It was driving me crazy.
Lt. Disher: Sure.

Adrian Monk snoops at the Ashcombe’s mail. Sharona catches him.

Sharona: What are you doing? You can’t look through people’s mail.
Mr. Monk: I’m not stealing anything. I’m just combing through. I don’t wanna live in a world where a person can’t comb through another person’s mail.

Sharona sighs.

Sharona: Just hurry up.
Mr. Monk: Jennie Zeppettelli.

Adrian Monk picks up the small package and sniffs it.

Mr. Monk: Smell that. Perfume. Shalimar. It’s very expensive. Obviously, an old girlfriend. She loved him, but it’s over now.
Sharona: How do you know all that.
Mr. Monk: I’ve never underlined anything six times. Have you?

Sharona reads the marking on the box. Declined was underlined six times.
Adrian Monk and Sharona pay Jennifer Zeppettelli a visit.

Mr. Monk: I agree, Jennifer. He did waste the best five years of your life.
Jennifer: How did you know what I was thinking?
Mr. Monk: You were looking at the empty bottles of Beaujolais. They’re dated, one for each of the last five years. They obviously represent anniversaries. And I saw you feel your ring finger, which doesn’t have a ring.
Jennifer: Are you a psychic, Mr. Monk?
Sharona: He is a psychic who doesn’t believe in psychics.
Mr. Monk: Jennifer, we know you were having an affair with Harry Ashcombe.
Sharona: Is it over?
Jennifer: I wised up. It only took five years. I realized Harry was never gonna leave his wife, and not because he loved her. I mean, he despised her. He just couldn’t live without the money.
Mr. Monk: When did you see him last?
Jennifer: About four months ago. But he calls me all the time, and he sends me gifts. I mean, what happened to his wife, it wasn’t my fault. He’s just—he’s crazy.
Mr. Monk: You mean the accident.

Jennifer Zeppettelli falls silent.

Mr. Monk: You don’t believe it was an accident?
Jennifer: I don’t know. All I know is Harry Ashcombe is a very dangerous man. I hope you know what you’re doing.

Mr. Monk is tidying up his refrigerator.

Sharona: Do we know what we’re doing?
Mr. Monk: Relax, I’ve been handling refrigerators since I was 15.
Sharona: No, I was talking about the case. The former commissioner isn’t just another suspect, Adrian. He is connected. He is the man, and you better be sure about this.
Mr. Monk: I’m as sure as I can be. Without any, you know, proof. All of her stuff was packed up. He couldn’t wait to get rid of it.
Sharona: But that doesn’t mean anything.
Mr. Monk: There were boots in the closet that were covered with mud.

Adrian Monk spots the expiration date on one of the juice bottles.

Mr. Monk: Good until July 22.

He takes one out.

Mr. Monk: Sell by July 20th.

Adrian Monk throws one of the bottles to Sharona. He grunts. Sharona puts the bottle in her bag.

Sharona: You really think he forced his wife off the road?
Mr. Monk: Yep.
Sharona: Any idea how?
Mr. Monk: Unless I’m crazy, he put something on the road that sent her over the side. Now, that—that was the easy part.

Adrian Monk looks at a container half filled with olives.

Mr. Monk: The hard part came later.
Sharona: What’s that?
Mr. Monk: Getting that loony tune Dolly Flint to find the body. That’s the real mystery here.

Adrian Monk opens the container and eats one of the olives.

Mr. Monk: How did he do that?
Sharona: Well, you can ask her. I got a reading with her at 3:00. Why don’t you come along?
Mr. Monk: Maybe I will.

Dolly Flint makes a reading for Sharona Fleming where she feels Sharona’s head.

Dolly: Hmm. Very positive person. Hmm. Very spiritual.
Sharona: That’s true.
Dolly: Hmm. But you’ve been troubled. You’re having trouble sleeping. Am I right?
Sharona: Yeah. Yeah.
Dolly: Uh-huh.
Sharona: You can tell that from the bumps in my head?
Dolly: Mm-hmm. It’s called phrenology. See the shape of your head is like a spiritual road map.

Adrian Monk sneaks around Dolly Flint’s house.

Dolly: You just have to know how to read it.
Sharona: Feels good.
Dolly: Shh. Okay. There’s a young man in your life.
Sharona: Oh, that would be my son.
Dolly: Oh.
Sharona: Yes, his name’s Benjy.
Dolly: And another man. He’s not young, but he’s—he’s like a child.
Sharona: That would be my boss.
Dolly: Mmm. This is a very difficult man. He’s causing you a lot of anxiety.
Sharona: Yeah.

Adrian continues with his snooping.

Sharona: I just don’t wanna talk about him right now, please?
Dolly: Okay, all right. Let it go. Yeah. This is another man. A new man. Oh, honey, this is a real man.
Sharona: Really?
Dolly: Yeah.

The women chuckle.
Adrian Monk bumps into something and glasses start clanging.

Dolly: What was that?
Sharona: Wait, let’s—let’s talk about that man.

Sharona Fleming takes Dolly Flint’s hand and puts it back on her head.

Dolly: Where’s your friend, Mr. Monk?

Adrian Monk reads a label from a prescription bottle. Dolly Flint walks over to the kitchen.

Dolly: Mr. Monk. I thought you were in the waiting room.
Mr. Monk: I was thirsty.
Dolly: Yeah. Well, you should’ve asked. Excuse the mess. My cleaning girl got herself knocked up by some guy from Paraguay. Can you believe it?

Dolly Flint pours tap water into a mug.

Dolly: What do they call them anyway, “Paraguians”?

Dolly Flint hands the filthy mug with lipstick stains among other things to Adrian Monk.

Mr. Monk: You know what, I’m fine. It was—it was just a cough…drop…stuck in my throat there, but I’m fine now. Thank you.
Dolly: Suit yourself.

Dolly Flint takes a sip.

Dolly: Why don’t you come and join us?

Dolly Flint starts reading Tarot cards.

Dolly: Mmm. Mmm—hmmm. The Chariot. You are a very restless soul. Oh. Now this is interesting. The Knight of Pentacles.
Sharona: Is that good?
Dolly: Well, it confirms what I felt earlier—romance. You know anyone with a British accent?
Sharona: No.
Dolly: You will…very soon.
Sharona: A British accent, huh? He’s not gonna look like that, is he?

Dolly, Sharona and Adrian laugh.

Dolly: No, I don’t think so.

Dolly Flint sighs.

Dolly: No, he’s gonna be tall and his name is Derek—David?
Mr. Monk: Congratulations. I’m sure you’ll both be deliriously happy. Miss Flint, uh, about finding Mrs. Ashcombe—
Dolly: No. I didn’t find anybody. Her spirit led me to her.
Mr. Monk: Of course. Yeah, of course. Uh, did—did you know her before she died?
Dolly: No, I never met her, and I’ve been through this about a million times.
Mr. Monk: No, I understand.
Sharona: E-excuse me. Um, about the man with the accent, how will I know it’s him?
Dolly: Oh, well, you’ll know. Like all women know. You just have to keep an open heart, Sharona.
Mr. Monk: So, she wasn’t a client?
Dolly: No.
Sharona: Uh, Dolly? You said, soon. You mean, like this week or next week?
Dolly: Um—you know I’d say before the next full moon.

Adrian Monk chuckles.

Mr. Monk: I’m sorry, but, uh, uh, here on the planet Earth, there’s a dead woman and somebody is responsible.
Dolly: It was an accident, Mr. Monk. She drove off the highway.
Mr. Monk: Right. Right. What exactly do you remember about that night?
Dolly: Do you know what you are, Mr. Monk? You are what we in the spiritual world cll, a “buzz kill”.
Mr. Monk: Thank you.
Dolly: Fine! It’s your money. I went to bed. I have insomnia. I took my pills. I finally got to sleep at about, uhm, 3:00. No, it was 3:30. I was watching Law & Order.
Mr. Monk: Go on.
Dolly: And that’s it. I woke up next to Mrs. Ashcombe. Now, I go to bed with my coat on holding my car keys, just in case.
Sharona: Okay, are you happy now? You happy? Dolly? Dolly, what does he do, like, for a living? He has a job, right?
Mr. Monk: Sharona!
Sharona: What?
Mr. Monk: Please, please. I’m—I’m working here. I’m working here.

Sharona Fleming grabs Adrian Mon’ks hand and licks it. Adrian Monk groans.

Mr. Monk: What did you do? Are you insane? I need—I need a wipe.
Sharona: In the car.
Mr. Monk: Don’t do this to me. Give me a wipe here.
Sharona: Go to the car and get the wipes. Go to the car.

Adrian Monk makes his way to the car.

Sharona: Um, about this Daivd or Derek, he’s not married, is he?

Adrian Monk is outside by the car wiping his hand. He drops the wipe. He bends down to pick it up and notices the gravel.
Adrian Monk sneaks up to Ashcombe’s driveway as Sharona and Benjy watch from the car.

Benjy: What is he doing?
Sharona: I don’t know. Did you finish all your math?
Benjy: You have a weird job.

Sharona groans.

Sharona: Benjamin, just finish the math.

Adrian Monk retrieves a piece of gravel stuck in Harry Ashcombe’s tire.
The next morning, Adrian Monk and Sharona Fleming go to a hardware store.

Clerk: Mr. Monk, you were right. It’s a perfect match.

The clerk hands Adrian Monk the gravel he got from Harry Ashcombe’s car and the psychics driveway.

Mr. Monk: Really?
Clerk: They’re made by a company called Decorative Gravel. Now, that particular color is called Volcanic Tuff. It’s not very popular. It’s from New Mexico. I talked to the bookkeeper and she said they only did one, maybe to driveways in the area.
Mr. Monk: So, if this came from somebody’s car, and this once came from somebody’s driveway—
Clerk: At some point, that car was on that driveway. You can bet the farm.
Man Over PA: Customer service to paint department, please.
Sharona: So?

Adrian Monk puts the gravel on the paint mixer.

Mr. Monk: Ashcombe said he never met Dolly Flint and she said she never met him. Maybe they both just forgot.

A man starts the paint mixer. The gravel flies through the air. Adrian Monk gasps.

Mr. Monk: Nobody move. Nobody move!

Adrian Monk talks on the PA.

Mr. Monk: Hello.

The microphone feeds back.

Mr. Monk: Hello. My name is Adrian…Monk. I’m working with the police on a homicide investigation. There is a very valuable piece of evidence…somewhere in this store. It’s a small pebble. It’s about the size of a small pebble. If you could all just stop please and look around. What—what are you doing?

Adrian Monk confronts a janitor.

Janitor: Sweeping up.

Adrian Monk looks at the trash can.

Mr. Monk: Ok, where’s the rest of it?

Adrian Monk stands by the dumpster while Sharona rummages through the garbage.

Sharona: It’s not in here!
Mr. Monk: Keep looking!

Sharona groans.

Mr. Monk: It’s a small, black pebble, God!

Adrian Monk puts his hands over his head. Sharona continues going through the trash. Adrian finds the pebble in his kinky hair.

Mr. Monk: Wait a minute. I found it.

Sharona Fleming looks out of the dumpster with trash all over her hair.

Sharona: Where was it?

Adrian Monk chuckles.

Mr. Monk: I found it. It was in my—

Adrian Monk points at his hair.

Mr. Monk: It must’ve—it must’ve flown.
Sharona: God!

She rolls her eyes then slips back inside in the dumpster.

Sharona: I don’t believe I listen to you! You’re driving me nuts!


Adrian Monk and Sharona Fleming are at the parking lot of a pet store waiting for Harry Ashcombe by his SUV. Harry Ashcombe enters the store with his small dog.

Sharona: Adrian, are you sure about this?
Mr. Monk: Well, no.
Sharona: You better be right. I swear, I’d kill you.

Harry Ashcombe arrives.

Harry: Monk! What are you doing here?
Mr. Monk: Your housekeeper said we might find you here. Is the dog okay/
Harry: The dog’s fine. Actually, I was just giving her away.
Sharona: Oh, my God. Why?
Harry: Well, she was Katherine’s dog. I’m not much of a pet person. She’ll be…happier here.

Adrian Monk fusses with Harry Ashcombe’s jacket.

Mr. Monk: you, uh—you—you didn’t return my calls.
Harry: Well, I assumed they were more calls of condolences. Was I wrong?
Mr. Monk: I—I—I had a couple of questions. Uh, about your wife’s death.
Harry: Well, I’ll send you a transcript of the inquest and the coroner’s report. Anything else?
Mr. Monk: She was insured? Wasn’t she?
Harry: Yes. There was a $2 million accidental death policy. Now, I know that seems like a lot of money to some people, but considering the lifestyle that we enjoyed, it was not at all excessive. Is there anything else?
Mr. Monk: I found this—this piece of gravel in the tire of your car, and uh, it matches the gravel outside the psychic’s house. Can you explain that?
Harry: Are they unique?
Mr. Monk: Oh. Yes, very.
Harry: I don’t have to explain it. Can you explain it?
Mr. Monk: Not yet.
Sharona: You know, it’s no big deal, sir. We were just curious about the gravel. Ah, Adrian, I think we better go. We’re gonna be late.
Harry: You’d better listen to her, Monk.

Harry Ashcombe makes his way to his car door.

Harry: You’re in my way.
Mr. Monk: That’s right. I am.

Adrian Monk and Sharona Fleming accompany Dolly at a backstage of a studio.

Director: Dolly! Ready to go in five minutes!
Dolly: Okay.

Dolly Flint groans.

Dolly: What did you want from me, Monk?
Sharona: Did that director have a British accent?
Dolly: I think so.
Sharona: What’s his name?

Dolly Flint scoffs.

Sharona: Forget it. He’s gay. He doesn’t know it yet, but forget it. What do you want from me, Monk?
Mr. Monk: How about the truth for a change?
Dolly: I have been telling you the truth. Okay? I fell asleep, I woke up. Hello! There’s Mrs. Ashcombe.

Dolly Flint lights a cigarette.

Mr. Monk: There’s no smoking. There’s no smoking.
Sharona: I believe you, Dolly.
Dolly: Thank you, sweetie. What’s his problem?
Mr. Monk: My problem is simple.

Adrian Monk coughs.

Mr. Monk: It’s not possible.
Dolly: Well, how do you explain it then?
Mr. Monk: Miss Flint, this is not a game. If you are somehow involved.
Dolly: Involved? How?
Mr. Monk: With your friend, Harry Ashcombe.
Dolly: I met the man once for 30 seconds. You were there!
Mr. Monk: He’s been to your house.

Dolly Flint scoffs.

Dolly: Impossible.
Mr. Monk: I can prove it.
Dolly: I think I’d remember.
Mr. Monk: Dolly, we’re talking about premeditated, first-degree murder. I think Ashcombe killed his wife, and then recruited you to find the body. That’s accessory after the fact, aiding and abetting—these are very serious charges.
Dolly: I am not a criminal.
Mr. Monk: I’ve seen your rap sheet. You’re not exactly Mother Teresa.
Dolly: Aw, that is just nickel-and-dime stuff. Come on!

Dolly Flint sighs.

Dolly: You wanna know the truth?
Mr. Monk: I’m not sure my heart could take it.
Dolly: Come here.

Dolly Flint and Adrian Monk talk in private.

Dolly: Mr. Monk, when I woke up on that hill, I couldn’t believe it myself. The truth is…I’m a fake.

Dolly Flint blows smoke onto Adrian Monk’s face.

Dolly: I never really had the gift. Don’t tell the girl. I mean, I wanted it, I pretended to have it once in a while when I was a kid, I thought I actually did have it. But the only gift I had was telling people what they wanted to hear. It was a sham. My entire life.

Adrian Monk coughs.

Dolly: Until Tuesday. That was the real deal, Monk. I swear on my sainted mother’s eyes, Mrs. Ashcombe led me to that car. I always wanted to help the cops, you know, like really help them on a big case. And I did it! Maybe I’m just a late bloomer. Whatever the case, this time I am telling you the truth.
Director: All right, Dolly. Come on. Come on. We got a break in an hour. Let’s try and get tit together, please.
Dolly: What is wrong?
Mr. Monk: you wanna know what’s wrong? I’ll tell you what’s wrong. I believe you.

Jennifer Zeppettelli answers her phone.

Jennifer: Hello?
Harry: Have you been talking to the police?
Jennifer: No.
Harry: Don’t lie to me, Jennie.

Jennifer Zeppettelli hangs up.
The next day, Leland Stottlemeyer meets Adrian Monk and Sharona Fleming at the scene of the crime.

Captain Stottlemeyer: Hey, Monk. Monk, I’ve been looking or you.
Mr. Monk: How did you know we were here?
Captain Stottlemeyer: Sharona’s kid told me. Um, I have a message for you. Benjy wants to have a sleepover at Drew Cunningham’s house.
Sharona: Are his parents gonna be home?
Captain Stottlemeyer: I don’t know.
Sharona: Did he call from Drew’s?
Captain Stottlemeyer: I have no idea.

Leland Stottlemeyer turns to Adrian Monk.

Captain Stottlemeyer: You’ve been talking to the commissioner.
Mr. Monk: Where did you park?
Captain Stottlemeyer: Where did I park? I parked up top. Monk, I told you not to talk to him. The man just buried his wife.
Mr. Monk: Why didn’t you take the service road? It comes all the way down.
Captain Stottlemeyer: I couldn’t find it. The last time I was here, I had a driver, okay?
Mr. Monk: Couldn’t find it. Yeah, neither could we.
Captain Stottlemeyer: So, what?
Mr. Monk: Dolly Flint found it. She’d never been here before, and she found it. Before dawn? How is that possible?
Captain Stottlemeyer: She’s psychic? A little bird told her. I don’t know.
Mr. Monk: Leland, I’m talking to the best cop I know. You gotta get on board here. Ashcombe was sleeping around.
Captain Stottlemeyer: That’s common knowledge. Sharona, could you take a break please? Please?

Sharona Fleming walks away.

Mr. Monk: He had muddy boots in his closet.
Captain Stottlemeyer: I have muddy boots in my closet. Look, I knew you were crazy, but I didn’t know you were suicidal. Did you accuse Harry Ashcombe of murder to his face?
Mr. Monk: Not in so many words.

Leland Stottlemeyer chuckles.

Captain Stottlemeyer: Well, there goes your career.
Mr. Monk: What career?
Captain Stottlemeyer: Exactly, and you wonder why you’re not wearing a badge.
Mr. Monk: Here’s what happened. Ashcombe did his wife, but he had a problem. There was a mudslide that night, the car was buried. He couldn’t collect a dime until they found her. What could he do? He couldn’t just say, “Maybe we should dig over there.” Somebody else had to find her.
Captain Stottlemeyer: So he paid Dolly Flint?
Mr. Monk: Too dangerous. She’d never keep her mouth shut. Ashcombe…arranged for her to find the body.
Captain Stottlemeyer: Right, but how did he do that?
Mr. Monk: I think I know.
Captain Stottlemeyer: Can you prove it?
Mr. Monk: Only if you help me.

Harry Ashcombe arrives at his house to find the police, Dolly Flint and Adrian Monk.

Dolly: Everyone, please concentrate. Ah, it’s faint.
Harry: What is this?
Dolly: It’s coming through.
Harry: Leland, what’s going on here? Who let you in?
Captain Stottlemeyer: You did, I talked to your lawyer, Harry. We have full unrestricted access.
Harry: I thought you were just gonna look around.
Dolly: Shh. Please. Her aura is very strong. She’s here. I can feel her. Complete the ring.

Sharona Fleming takes Dolly Flint’s and Randy Disher’s hand.
Dolly Flint exhales.

Dolly: Mr. Monk, complete the ring.
Mr. Monk: Uh, I think the ring is fine.
Dolly: Mr. Monk, we need you.
Sharona: Complete the ring.

Adrian Monk offers his elbows.

Dolly: Who am I speaking to? Tell me, what is your name?
Captain Stottlemeyer: There’s a woman reported missing in San Anselmo. A travel agnet. A 32-year old Jennie Zeppettelli.
Harry: Jennie?
Captain Stottlemeyer: Yeah. We contacted Miss Flint after the success she had with your wife. We thought we’d use her again.
Harry: And?
Captain Stottlemeyer: And…she’s been on her trail all day. We followed her here. We think she’s in your house.
Harry: You can’t be serious.
Dolly: Jennie? Is that you? She’s here. Oh, she’s in pain. I can feel her.

Dolly Flint makes her way to one of the rooms.

Dolly: There’s something in this room.

Sharona gasps.

Sharona: Look!
Lt. Disher: Sharona, don’t touch it!

Randy Disher picks up a sandal with his pen.

Lt. Disher: A sandal, size six.
Harry: What?
Captain Stottlemeyer: According to her sister, she was wearing sandals when she disappeared. Is that blood?
Lt. Disher: Yeah, it looks like it.
Captain Stottlemeyer: Bag it.
Harry: This is insane! How did that get here?
Dolly: She’s close. She’s very close.

Dolly Flint groans.

Mr. Monk: Are you all right?
Dolly: Stay away. It’s Jennie. She’s here.
Harry: There’s nothing here!

Dolly Flint pants then grunts.

Mr. Monk: What is it, Dolly? What is it?

They all turn to the poker that Dolly was looking at.

Mr. Monk: There’s blood.

Leland Stottlemeyer takes the poker.

Mr. Monk: And hair.
Captain Stottlemeyer: Human.
Harry: That’s impossible.
Captain Stottlemeyer: Lieutenant.
Lt. Disher: I got it.
Dolly: Jennie? She’s calling me. I’m coming.

Dolly Flint makes her way to the indoor pool then out to the yard.

Dolly: Oh, now. Oh, my God. Oh, dear God. No!

Jennie Zeppettelli lie dead in a hole at Ashcombe’s yard.

Harry: Jennie! Oh, my God! I swear.
Captain Stottlemeyer: Stand back, Commissioner. This is a crime scene.

Dolly Flint points at Harry Ashcombe.

Dolly: He did it. He killed her.
Harry: Me? Are you crazy? I loved this woman!
Dolly: He invited her here. She said it was over. He exploded. She tried to run away, but he chased her down.
Harry: No!
Dolly: He grabbed the poker. And then he straddled her, and he was just pounding just pounding her!
Harry: No, she’s crazy!
Dolly: She says…now at least she can be with Abigail. Abigail was what she named her unborn baby. Last summer, you made her have an abortion.
Harry: How do you know that?
Mr. Monk: She knows everything. She’s psychic.
Harry: Leland, don’t listen to her. This—this is some kind of a trick! She’s a fake!
Mr. Monk: She’s not a fake!
Harry: Yes, she is!
Mr. Monk: She found your wife’s body.
Harry: No, she didn’t!
Mr. Monk: Yes, she did. I was there.
Harry: No, no, no! She didn’t find anything! I drove her there!

Harry Ashcombe falls silent after realizing his mistake.

Mr. Monk: You drove her? Is that what you said? Did you hear that, Captain?
Harry: I—I—look, Leland—

Jennie Zeppettelli sits up.

Jennifer: Hello, Harry. I told you you’d be sorry.
Mr. Monk: When I told Jennie what we were trying to do here. She was anxious to help. She knew you had to be stopped. A mud slide – that was your problem. Somebody other than yourself had to find Katherine’s body. So, you went looking for just the right psychic, and Dolly Flint was the perfect choice. From her file, you knew that she took medication to help her sleep. What did you use, chloroform? Something to keep her sleeping. You put on a wig. You drove her to the crash site. You even ran a red light or two to make sure you were seen. In the morning, she woke up…and found your wife.
Harry: I have nothing to say.
Mr. Monk: That’s quite all right, sir. You’ve said enough.
Captain Stottlemeyer: Harry, I’m going to advise you of your rights. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can be used against you in a court of law.

Sharona Fleming and Adrian Monk walk by the bay. As they are walking, Adrian touches all the tips of the railing.

Sharona: How did you know she was a fake?
Mr. Monk: Who? Dolly? Dolly Flint? They’re all fakes. You gotta be a little skeptical. Sharona, otherwise, you end up believing in everything—UFOs, elves, income tax rebates.
Sharona: Well, it’s better than believing in nothing. I feel sorry for you.
Mr. Monk: Thank you.

A Golden Retriever approaches Sharona.

Sharona: Oh, it’s so cute.
Mr. Monk: Don’t pet—Don’t pet—
Sharona: Come here.
Mr. Monk: Don’t pet—

A man with a British accent calls the dog.

Man: Winston! Winston! Here, boy.
Sharona: Is he yours?
Man: Yes, he is.
Sharona: What kind of dog is he?
Man: Uh, not worth the trouble, that’s what kind.
Sharona: Are you British?
Man: Guilty.

Sharona chuckles.

Sharona: Oh, God. I’m Sharona.
Man: Hi.
Sharona: And uh, this is my friend…Adrian. Adrian Monk. And um…you are?
Man: Daniel.
Sharona: Oh, Daniel, with a “D”.
Daniel: Adrian, I notice you touching all the poles. Is that an American thing?
Mr. Monk: Yes, this is an American tradition. I’m touching all the poles because I’m proud to be an American.
Daniel: Excuse my asking, but are you two together?

Sharona laughs.

Sharona: Me—Me and Monk?

Sharona guffaws.

Sharona: No. No. We’re not.
Mr. Monk: It’s not that funny.
Sharona: Yes, it is pretty funny.


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


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