Sharona Fleming lie on a lounge chair by the beach with her boss Adrian Monk who is wearing his suit to the beach. He sighs and turns to the sunbathing Sharona.
Mr. Monk: I think I’ll go back to the room.
Sharona: Yeah, you don’t wanna burn. You’ve been out here for, what, 10 minutes? What happened to the bathing suit I bought you?
Mr. Monk: I’m wearing it…underneath.
Sharona: You’re not gonna even try?
Mr. Monk: I am what I am.
Sharona: Well, you do what you want. This is my first vacation in three years, and I’m gonna make every minute count.
Mr. Monk: I tried doing that once—making every minute count. It gave me a headache.
Sharona: What doesn’t?
Benjy runs to his mom, Sharona Fleming.
Benjy: Hey, Mom. You owe me an ice cream sundae.
Benjy: We had a bet. Mom said you wouldn’t come outside even once.
Mr. Monk: Oh-ho! Ye of little faith.
A man on a jet ski catches everyone’s attention.
Benjy: Hey, mom, can I go jet skiing?
Sharona: No, it’s too scary.
Benjy: No, it’s not. All the other kids—
Sharona: Not for you, for Mr. Monk.
Benjy: There’s nothing to do.
Sharona: Here. Here. Take a quarter, look in the telescope.
Sharona hands Benjy a quarter.
Benjy: The telescope? Big whoop.
Benjy rolls his eyes, but goes to the telescope anyway.
Sharona: Do you have any lotion on?
Adrian Monk shrugs.
Sharona: Come here.
Adrian Monk leans closer to Sharona. She rubs sunblock on his nose. Benjy puts the quarter in the telescope. He looks at a building with the telescope.
Benjy: Hey, look, I can see our room. And uh, there’s Mr. Monk’s room.
Sharona: Which one?
Benjy: The first one. The one he couldn’t stay in because it smelled funny.
Benjy turns the telescope to another window where a woman holds on to a curtain as she slowly falls on the floor. Her hand smears blood on the curtain. Benjy gasps.
Benjy looks pale and out of breath.
Sharona: Benjy? What’s wrong? What’s wrong?
Angry hotel guests gather at the lobby.
Man: Okay. I have a flight to catch.
Benjy: Mom, she was stabbed. I really think she’s dead.
Sharona: I know. I know. I know. I—I—I’m so sorry you had to see that, but it’ gonna be okay. Mr. Monk is gonna check it out with the security people. Look.
The hotel manager approaches the person in-charge of security, Bronwynn.
Tony: Miss Bronwynn, this is not a penitentiary. You have to let these people come anc go.
Ms. Bronwynn: I’m gonna let them go, Tony, as soon as we check out Room 401.
Tony: D you know who is in Room 401?John Fenimore. The C.O.O. of the third largest brokerage house on the West Coast. He brings his staff here every year for a conference. How do we know the boy just didn’t make it up?
Mr. Monk: Oh, no. He’s—he’s a good boy. He doesn’t lie.
Tony: All children lie.
Mr. Monk: Not him. Not to me.
Tony: Well, of course, you would say that. You’re his father.
Mr. Monk: I’m not his father. His mother works for me.
Ms. Bronwynn: Tony Lndis, this is Adrian Monk. Adrian is a former homicide detective. I just talked to his Captain in Frisco. He says we’re lucky to have him.
Tony: Miss Bronwynn, these people are on vacation.
Ms. Bronwynn: Okay, Tony. Tell you what. Why don’t you let ‘em out and then you can tell the victim’s family and the police why you let the murderer go.
Tony: Fine. Check it out. As discreetly and quickly and discreetly as possible.
Mr. Monk: You—you said discreetly twice.
Adrian Monk fixes Tony Landis’ collar.
Tony: Exactly. In fact, I’ll say it again. Discreetly.
Adrain Monk and Bronwynn make their way to Fenimore’s room.
Ms. Bronwynn: Mitzi! Mitzi! Mitzi!
Bronwynn steps on the vacuum. The maid stops her vacuuming.
Ms. Bronwynn: Muy importante. Did anyone come out of Room 401?
Mitzi: No, ma’am. Okay. Go in there, close the door and be very quiet.
Mitzi does what Bronwynn told her to do. Brownynn knocks on Fenimore’s room.
Ms. Bronwynn: Mr. Fenimore, could you open the door, please? Hotel security.
Adrian Monk puts his ear against the door to listen. Bronwynn pulls out her gun. Brownynn signals her plan to Adrian Monk.
Mr. Monk: What?
Bronwynn repeats her hand signals.
Mr. Monk: You want me to go in backwards?
Ms. Bronwynn: No, no, no. On three, I go in high. You follow me. Stay low.
Mr. Monk: Okay. Got it.
Bronwynn touches her nose with her finger.
Mr. Monk: Do I have something on my nose?
Ms. Bronwynn: Oh. No. That was just from The Sting.
Mr. Monk: What sting?
Ms. Bronwynn: No, the movie The Sting. They were always doing this.
Bronwynn touches her nose again.
Mr. Monk: What does it mean?
Ms. Bronwynn: I don’t know.
Bronwynn swipes her card on the door then whispers.
Ms. Bronwynn: Okay, one, two, three.
Bronwynn enters the room with her gun ready.
Ms. Bronwynn: Hotel security. Is anybody here? What do you think? It’s gotta be the wrong room.
Mr. Monk: Benjy pointed it out. He said “Fourth floor, last room on the right”.
Ms. Bronwynn: Well, do you see anything? Looks pretty clean.
Mr. Monk: No, nothing. Not a thing.
Ms. Bronwynn: Tell me about Benjy.
Mr. Monk: He’s a good kid. He’s—he wants to be a writer. He draws comic books. He said it happened right here. Said she pulled the curtain down.
Ms. Bronwynn: Mr. Monk, all due respect. I’ve seen crime scenes. This ain’t one.
Mr. Fenimore enters his room.
Fenimore: What the hell?
Ms. Bronwynn: Uh, Mr. Fenimore. How you doing? I’m Rita Bronwynn, hotel security. This is Adrian Monk. He’s assisting me.
Fenimore: Assisting you with what?
Ms. Bronwynn: There’s been a report of an incident in this room.
Fenimore: What sort of incident?
Mr. Monk: A fight.
Fenimore: Here? No. Someone made a mistake.
Mr. Monk: When did you leave this room, sir?
Fenimore: About an hour ago.
Mr. Monk: And where did you go?
Fenimore: Down by the lake. I fed some ducks.
Mr. Monk: With your wife.
Fenimore: No. I was alone.
Ms. Bronwynn: Where is your wife at the present moment?
Fenimore: Drove into town to do some shopping. When did this incident supposedly occur?
Mr. Monk: About 15 minutes ago.
Fenimore: Well, then it couldn’t have been Irene. She called me on my cell just now.
Mr. Monk: You and your wife are having problems, sir?
Fenimore: Why would you say that?
Mr. Monk: You’re not sleeping in the same room. There’s a travel alarm on the end table and some slippers under the couch.
Fenimore: You’re a very clever man. Yes, we had an argument. We made up this morning. Twice, if, uh, you understand what I mean.
Ms. Bronwynn: Yeah.
Bronwynn clears her throat.
Ms. Bronwynn: Uh, Mr. Fenimore, can you have your wife call the front desk as soon as she gets in?
Fenimore: If you insist.
Ms. Bronwynn: Oh, sir, do you happen to have a picture of your wife?
Fenimore: Yeah, sure.
Later, Adrian Monk shows Benjy the picture of Fenimore’s wife.
Mr. Monk: Well? Is this the woman you saw?
Benjy: Oh, I don’t know. Maybe. Sorry.
Sharona Fleming is going to play tennis.
Sharona: Benjy, wait here for one sec, okay?
Sharona Fleming pulls aside Adrian Monk.
Sharona: What did you find?
Mr. Monk: Zilch. It was the cleanest room I’ve ever seen.
Mr. Monk: I’d stay there.
Sharona: Wow. Adrian, I hate to say this—
Mr. Monk: What?
Sharona: Maybe he did make it up.
Mr. Monk: Why would he do that?
Sharona: To impress you. Maybe he’s trying to get your attention.
Benjy: You’re talking about me, aren’t you? I saw what I saw.
Mr. Monk: He was what he saw.
Sharona: Okay. You two have fun playing cops and robbers. I’m still on vacation and I’m gonna play tennis with somebody.
Mr. Monk: You made a friend?
Sharona: Yeah. You should try it sometime. And there he is. Hey!
Sharona Fleming walks over to the gift shop.
Man: Hey! I was just about to call your room.
The man sings My Sharona.
Man: I bet you get that a lot.
Sharona: Uh, no, no, no. That was—that was the first time. Uh, this is my boss, Adrian Monk, and my son Benjy.
Man: Hey, how you doing, guys? So, what do you think?
The man puts on a pair of sunglasses.
Sharona: You look great. I won’t be able to keep my eye on the ball.
Man: Exactly my plan.
Sharona chuckles. The man turns to the sales clerk.
Man: I’ll take them.
Sharona: Okay. I’ll see you two later.
The man pays with a check.
Sharona: And don’t let him get into any trouble.
Mr. Monk: I won’t.
Benjy: I was talkin’ to Benjy.
Sharona Fleming and the man plays tennis.
Sharona: Oh, good shot.
Benjy and Adrian Monk watch them play.
Benjy: Mom could have got that shot. Do you think she’s letting him win?
Mr. Monk: I wouldn’t be surprised.
Benjy: You know, why do girls do that?
Mr. Monk: Somedaby you’ll understand. When you do, call me and explain it to me. Now, I want you to tell me again exactly what you saw.
Adrian Monk and Benjy go over to the telescope. Adrian Monk looks at the room through the telescope.
Benjy: Do you see anything?
Mr. Monk: No, it looks as clean from the outside as inside.
Adrian turns the telescope.
Mr. Monk: Mr. Fenimore. He’s talking to a woman. I can’t see her face. But it’s definitely not his wife. Benjy, can you read lips?
Benjy: I’m in sixth grade. I can barely read words.
Adrian Monk is at a pay phone.
Lt. Disher: Yeah. Are you still there?
Mr. Monk: Yes, I—I’m still here.
Lt. Disher: Fenimore, John P. Well, he’s a big fish. Chief Operating Officer for Marin Bay Investments. Makes a lot of money for a lot of people, Monk. Oh, here’s a red flag. He was invited three years ago. Domestic thing. A fight with his wife got out of hand. Hmm, she dropped the charges the next day.
Mr. Monk: Is that it?
Lt. Disher: Yep. That’s it. So, uh, would you like to tell me what’s going on?
Mr. Monk: I think this time he might have killed his wife.
Lt. Disher: Where are you staying, Monk? The Bates Motel?
Mr. Monk: No. But I have a feeling this place is run by the same company.
Tony Landis steps out of the elevator followed by the maids.
Tony: She can’t just quit.
Housekeeper #1: Her boyfriend called from Buenos Aires.
Tony: We have the Labor Day weekend around the corner and we’re at full capacity. She can’t quit now.
The housekeepers all talk in Spanish. Bronwynn and Adrian Monk arrive.
Ms. Bronwynn: Is there a problem?
Tony: Lupe Olivencia just quit.
Ms. Bronwynn: Oh.
Tony: We ought to start giving them gold watches after three weeks.
The maids again explain in Spanish.
Tony: Basta, tu ganaste. All right, Mrs. Garcia. Everybody does double shifts and I’ll pay the overtime.
The maids agree and leave.
Ms. Bronwynn: Tony, I wanted to ask you something.
Tony: What’s going on?
Tony Landis watches the porters check the hotel guests’ luggage.
Ms. Bronwynn: Oh, nothing. Doors are open. People can come and go as they please.
Tony: Well, how magnanimous of you.
Ms. Bronwynn: But we still have to search the bags.
Mr. Monk: He’s going to try to dispose of the boyd.
Tony: What body?
Mr. Monk: Mrs. Fenimore.
Tony: And your theory is based on what?
Mr. Monk: Benjy witnessed a murder. And I saw Mr. Fenimore flirting with another woman.
Tony Landis scoffs.
Tony: Most likely his assistant. Her name is Nicole Young. She comes with Mr. Fenimore and his staff here every year.
Ms. Bronwynn: Look, the point is Mrs. Fenimore is M.I.A. Tony, remember the last Christmas, that jewelry was stolen? You didn’t listen to me. I believe you were reprimanded for that.
Tony: Fine! All right. You have one hour.
Bronwynn’s cell phone rings.
Tony: After that, the siege is over, and we’re back to normal.
Bronwynn answers her phone.
Ms. Bronwynn: Yeah.
Tony: Or what passes for normal around here. Are you happy now?
Mr. Monk: I’m never happy. Listen, I might have to stay an extra day or two until we get this sorted out.
Tony: Oh, impossible. Quite out of the question. We’re overbooked as it is.
Bronwynn talks on the phone.
Ms. Bronwynn: Copy that. We’re on our way, Monk.
Bronwynn summons Adrian Monk.
Ms. Bronwynn: Monk! They’re heading for her room.
Mr. Monk: We only have one hour.
Fenimore and his assistant make their way to his room. Adrian Monk and Bronwynn run after the two.
Mr. Monk: Mr. Fenimore, sir.
Ms. Bronwynn: Hi. Remember us?
Fenimore: Yes, unfortunately.
Ms. Bronwynn: We’ve got a couple of questions to ask you.
Fenimore: Can’t it wait?
Nicole: The Hong Kong market’s about to open.
Ms. Bronwynn: Oh, is that what they’re calling it now?
Mr. Monk: Actually, ma’am, the Hong Kong market’s closed today. It’s a national holiday—what they call Liberation Day.
Ms. Bronwynn: Open the door, would you ma’am? We can talk inside.
Fenimore whispers to Adrian Monk.
Fenimore: Would you mind telling me what the hell this is all about?
Mr. Monk: Mr. Fenimore, I am 65 to 70% sure that you murdered your wife.
Nicole opens the door. They all enter.
Fenimore’s staff and family: Surprise!
Fenimore: Oh, my—I forgot all about it! Oh, my goodness.
Fenimore is overjoyed.
Mrs. Fenimore: Happy birthday, darling.
Fenimore: Oh, thank you, sweetie.
Fenimore kisses and hugs his wife.
Fenimore: Ah, Mr. Monk. I’d like you to meet, Irene, my wife. Darling, Mr. Monk is a
detective and he thinks I killed you in our suite this morning.
Mrs. Fenimore: I think I’d remember.
Fenimore: Anything else?
Mr. Monk: Happy birthday.
Later that night, Sharona Fleming fixes herself in front of a mirror.
Benjy: Miss Bronwynn was a detective too, just like Mr. Monk. And you know what she has? She has a shoulder holster.
Sharona runs to the door, but sees her son’s drawing.
Sharona: I—ooh! That’s good. Is that a new one?
Benjy: Yeah, it’s, um—it’s called Captain Invisible.
Sharona: I like it. Okay, honey.
Sharona Fleming gives her son a kiss goodnight.
Sharona: I’ll be back around ten. You’re gonna stay with Mr. Monk tonight, right?
Benjy: Yeah, we’re just gonna go to the arcade.
Sharona: That should be fun.
Sharona: Benjy. How do I look?
Sharona: Good. That’s what I was going for.
Sharona Fleming sprays herself with perfume.
Benjy: You believe me, don’t you? About the, uh, lady getting killed.
Sharona: You know, I, uh—I—I’ve been thinking a lot about that, and…maybe you were just using your imagination like you do when you’re drawing comic books.
Benjy: I wasn’t. Why won’t you believe me?
Sharona: Hey look, Benjy. There’s no body. It was a mistake, and that’s a good thing because it means nobody was really hurt.
Benjy: Mr. Monk believes me.
Disappointed Benjy gets up and walks away from his mother. Sharona Fleming sighs.
Adrian Monk is with Bronwynn.
Ms. Bronwynn: So, what, you’re giving up now or what?
Mr. Monk: Nobody’s giving up, Miss Bronwynn.
Ms. Bronwynn: Oh, you can call me Bronwynn.
Mr. Monk: I just—I just need to look after the boy for an hour or two.
Bronwynn raises her gun and inspects it. She gets off the couch.
Ms. Bronwynn: Oh, I can see it now. I’m gonna be all alone doing this. Mr. Monk, would you like a toothpick? I like ‘em minty. You care for one?
Mr. Monk: No, thanks.
Ms. Bronwynn: You sure? They’re individually wrapped.
Bronwynn takes out a packet of toothpicks from her shirt pocket.
Mr. Monk: Okay.
Adrian Monk goes over to take one. They both put the toothpicks in their mouths, such that they now look like old school TV detectives. Actually, they look like Leland Stottlemeyer.
Mr. Monk: Did you check out Fenimore’s room again?
Ms. Bronwynn: From top to bottom.
Mr. Monk: Did you find anything?
Ms. Bronwynn: Zip. It’s clean. It’s like an operating room up there. I even rented one of these things.
Bronwynn pulls up a bag.
Ms. Bronwynn: Spectra-light. Infrared.
Mr. Monk: Yeah, I—I—I’ve heard of these.
Ms. Bronwynn: Yeah? Have you seen the new model?
Bronwynn opens the bag.
Ms. Bronwynn: It’s awesome. It checks 14 different bodily fluids.
Mr. Monk: Fourteen?
Ms. Bronwynn: Yeah. Uh, blood, saliva, semen—
Mr. Monk: Okay. That—that—that’s okay. Thank you. How does it work.
Ms. Bronwynn: I’ll show you. Here. Wait.
Bronwynn takes out the Spectra-light. She goes over to the light switch.
Ms. Bronwynn: I gotta turn these lights off.
Bronwynn turns off the light. She turns on the Spectra-light and points at the table lamp. A spot on the lampshade glows.
Mr. Monk: Oh.
Ms. Bronwynn: Mmm.
Bronwynn points at the painting. The Spectra-light reveals spots on the painting and wall.
Mr. Monk: Oh-ho.
Bronwynn points it on the chair to reveal more spots.
Mr. Monk: Whoa! Oh, my God.
Adrian Monk groans and his groaning worsens as Bronwynn points the Spectra-light on the carpet and on the bench at the foot of the bed.
Mr. Monk: Whoa!
Ms. Bronwynn: Whoa.
Mr. Monk: Huh. Oh!
Adrian Monk continues to groan.
Mr. Monk: Go—oh, oh, oh, oh!
Ms. Bronwynn: Ooh.
Bronwynn points the Spectra-light on the bed where there are much larger spots.
Mr. Monk: Aah! Oh! Oh! Turn, plea—turn it off, please. God, please.
Bronwynn turns off the Spectra-light and turns on the lights. Adrian Monk now has his hand over his mouth. He spits out the toothpick that he unconsciously swallowed after much groaning.
Mr. Monk: Uh, I think I’d like to switch rooms.
Ms. Bronwynn: We’re all booked up.
Adrian Monk walks over to the table and takes a moist towelette. He picks up the phone.
Woman: Front desk.
Mr. Monk: Housekeeping?
Brownwynn points the Spectra-light on Adrian Monk’s bed then the wall.
Mr. Monk: You see them? Fluids.
Four housekeepers with their cart stand beside Adrian Monk.
Housekeeper #1: Fluids?
Mr. Monk: Bodily fluids. I’m gonna need everything scrubbed.
Bronwynn turns on the light.
Mr. Monk: S-scrubbed. How do you say “scrubbed”?
Housekeeper #2: Scrubbed.
Mr. Monk: Scrubbed. The curtains, the carpeting, and did you bring bleach?
Housekeeper #1: Bleach?
Mr. Monk: Bleach! The white god! Dios blanco!
Housekeeper #4 hands the bottle of bleach to Housekeeper #1.
Mr. Monk: Good. That’s good. Okay, take your time. Don’t worry. I’ll pay extra. Whatever it takes.
Bronwynn gives Adrian Monk a slap on the back.
Ms. Bronwynn: Don’t you worry, partner. They’re a team of experts. I’m going downstairs to look for the stiff.
Bronwynn turns to the four housekeepers.
Ms. Bronwynn: Good luck, ladies.
Mr. Monk: Good luck, ladies. And God be with you.
Adrian Monk follows Bronwynn out the door.
Sharona Fleming is having drinks with a man.
Man: He’s your boss, right?
Man: So why do you two vacation together?
Sharona: I don’t have a choice. The last time I tried to go without him. I had to come home after two days.
Man: Was he ill?
Sharona: Oh, no, no, no, no. It was just a garbage strike. The bags were piling up on the street. He was almost catatonic. You know.
Man: That’s like a marriage.
Sharona: More like a bad marriage. Mmm. So, um, have you ever been married, or—
Man: Me? Oh, no. I mean, I’m allergic to rice.
Sharona Fleming chuckles.
Down the basement, Bronwynn slowly walks down the stairs. She points the Spectra-light on the floor and follows a trail of blood. A bunch of poles fall. She manages to avoid them just in time. She hears someone fleeing.
Adrian Monk and Benjy are at the arcade. Benjy is having trouble getting the machine to take his money.
Benjy: Oh, it’s too wrinkled.
Adrian Monk pulls out his wallet from his inside suit pocket.
Mr. Monk: Okay, here. Try one of mine.
Adrian Monk hands Benjy a brand new looking dollar bill.
Benjy: Whoa. How do you keep it looking like new?
Mr. Monk: Hand-washed, no bleach. Tumble dry, medium heat. Cool iron.
The machine immediately accepts it. Coins jingle. One rolls on the floor then underneath a videogame machine.
Mr. Monk: Whoa, whoa.
Adrian Monk groans. Benjy kneels on the floor to get it.
Mr. Monk: You got it?
Benjy puts his hand underneath the machine to pull out the coin. He pulls out a coin and a pair of woman’s glasses.
Benjy: Someone’s glasses.
Mr. Monk: They’re prescription. You’d think somebody would come looking for them.
Benjy studies the glasses and his jaw drops.
Mr. Monk: What?
Benjy: She was wearing glasses.
Mr. Monk: Who? The woman you saw? The victim?
Mr. Monk: Like these?
Benjy: I think so.
Mr. Monk: Okay, look, I’m gonna go find Bronwynn. Put ‘em right here.
Adrian Monk opens wide his suit pocket. Benjy drops the glasses in it.
Mr. Monk: Can I leave you here for a couple of minutes?
Mr. Monk: You stay right here?
Benjy: Yeah. Okay.
Sharona Fleming is still having drinks with the man.
Emcee: Ladies and gentlemen.
Man: Do you want to ask him?
Emcee: Please help me welcome back to comedy night here at Hanover Lake Resort—
Adrian Monk arrives at the restaurant.
Emcee: The man on the top of the CIA’s Most Unwanted List, Chuck Byrn.
Chuck Byrn arrives and makes his way to the stage.
Chuck: Thanks very much, folks. Thanks for coming.
Adrian Monk approaches the bartender.
Mr. Monk: Have you seen Rita Bronwynn?
Bartender: Mmm. No.
Mr. Monk: Could you page her for me, please?
The bartender pulls out two bowls of nuts.
Chuck: It’s very hot. Unbelievably hot. It didn’t say in the brochure this place was located five blocks from the sun, did it?
The audience laughs.
Chuck: Oh, I went down to—
Adrian Monk begins fussing with the bowl of nuts.
Chuck: I saw the strangest thing on the beach. I was down there, walking around on the beach and—oh, my God. That’s the guy. I saw that guy on the beach today.
Chuck Byrn points at Adrian Monk. The spotlight shines over Adrian Monk. He turns and looks at everybody.
Chuck: And you know what he was wearing?
Sharona Fleming looks at the guy Chuck Byrn was pointing at. Sharona’s jaw drops.
Chuck: The exact same thing he’s wearing right now.
The people being laughing.
Chuck: I couldn’t believe it. How are ya? What’s your name, sir?
Sharona Fleming shouts at Adrian Monk.
Sharona: Adrian! Don’t tell him.
Chuck: Adrian? That’s his name.
Chuck Byrn makes his way to Adrian Monk. On his way, he turns to Sharona Fleming.
Chuck: That’s a nice whisper, I didn’t pick up on it at all. Very quiet. Very effective.
Everybody laughs. Sharona Fleming looks worried.
Chuck: Adrian’s your name. Good to see you, Adrian. Thanks for coming down to the show. Let’s give Adrian a big hand for coming down here, huh? Good to see ya. You kind of looked like a little bit like a vampire out there on the beach today.
Mr. Monk: Um, I’m not a vampire.
Chuck: Good thing. We’re all gonna sleep better tonight knowing that. What are you doing here with the peanuts here, Adrian?
Chuck Byrn looks at the lined up peanuts on the bar counter.
Mr. Monk: This bowl had more, and I was helping to even them out.
Chuck: Evening out the peanuts. It’s an important job. I think we might have hit the jackpot, folks.
Everybody laughs. Worried Sharona Fleming has his hand on her head.
Chuck: Get comfy, Adrian. We’re gonna be talking to you for a little while.
Benjy is still at the arcade. He watches the kid play with the only videogame that’s available, since the other one has an out of order sign on it.
Kid: Hey, I bet you it’s not really broken. They just want to make you think that to play the 50 cent games. I gotta go.
The kid leaves. Benjy goes to the back of the videogame machine to plug it on. He bumps onto the back of the machine and the backboard falls revealing the dead body of the woman he saw murdered. Benjy gasps and runs away.
Back at the restaurant, Chuck Byrn and Adrian Monk are now on the stage.
Chuck: Now, this is fascinating. You keep your socks in baggies.
The audience laughs.
Mr. Monk: Uh, I really don’t think it’s that unusual.
Chuck: You don’t think it’s that unusual? Really. Maybe we could ask around. Does anyone else here keep their socks in baggies?
Everybody laughs. Sharona Fleming still has her hands on her forehead.
Chuck: No. Sorry, Adrian. I think you’re a freak.
Adrian Monk tries to leave the stage.
Chuck: Whoa! Not so fast, Adrian. Not so fast. You don’t leave a slot machine when it’s paying off, my friend.
Sharona’s date laughs.
Man: I’m sorry.
Chuck: All right? So, you brought your own soap to the hotel.
Mr. Monk: That’s right.
Chuck: I guess because the hotel soap, that—that just wouldn’t be clean?
Sharona’s date tries to contain his laughter, but fails.
Chuck: Towels. Did you bring your own towels?
Mr. Monk: Yes.
Sharona Fleming looks at her date as he tries not to laugh.
Chuck: Sheets? Pillowcases?
Mr. Monk: Of course.
Chuck: Of course, yeah. You realize most people show up at hotels, they show up so they can steal that crap?
Adrian Monk fusses with the mic.
Chuck: What are—what are you doing? What are you doing?
Mr. Monk: Just—there was a little fuzz on it, a little lint.
Chuck: Yeah, but that’s my lint. You can’t take my lint. That’s my lint.
Chuck Byrn takes the lint from Adrian Monk and puts it back on the microphone.
Chuck: That’s my area. That’s where—that’s where I keep my lint. That’s my safe lint spot. You really want to pull it off there, don’t you?
Chuck Byrn moves the microphone closer to Adrian Monk.
Chuck: It’s breaking you up inside, isn’t it?
Adrian Monk tries to take the lint, but Chuck Byrn pulls the microphone away.
Sharona Fleming whispers to Adrian Monk.
Sharona: Adrian, forget the fuzz. Forget it.
Adrian Monk makes his second attempt.
Chuck: Uh! Oh!
Chuck Byrn moves the microphone close to Adrian Monk. He takes out the lint.
Chuck: There he goes, folks. He’s got his lint, huh?
Everybody applauds. Adrian Monk waves the lint at the audience.
Chuck: How about big hand for him? How proud you must be. You’ve got lint!
Pale Benjy runs to his mom.
Sharona: Benjy. Benjy, what’s wrong? What is it?
Benjy makes his way down the stairs. He is followed by Bronwynn, Adrian Monk and Sharona Fleming.
Mr. Monk: You sure you’re okay? You could have been killed.
Ms. Bronwynn: I think that was the idea.
Mr. Monk: You didn’t get a good look at them?
Ms. Bronwynn: No, I’m sorry. Then when I went back, the blood was gone. Someone had cleaned it up.
Benjy: Okay, it’s right over here. Ninja Fury Four was out of order, but this kid said it really wasn’t. So when I went back to plug it in, um, the back fell off and—and there she was.
Benjy taps the backboard. It falls down, but the corpse is no longer there.
Benjy: She was right there, mom! I saw her!
Mr. Monk: They would have had time to move the body.
Sharona Fleming, Adrian Monk, Bronwynn and the resort manager Tony gather around Benjy.
Benjy: It was in there! She was, like, all wrapped up.
Mr. Monk: It was the same woman you saw in the window?
Benjy: I think so.
Tony: Of course it was. Why go to the trouble of inventing an entirely different victim?
Mr. Monk: I believe him. And it isn’t just Benjy. Somebody tried to kill Miss Bronwynn.
Mr. Monk: But whoever it was wouldn’t have risked carrying it down the hallway.
Adrian Monk makes his way to a door.
Mr. Monk: Who has the key to this door?
The sign says Employees Only.
Tony: The entire staff. About 180 people.
Bronwynn: Are you thinking inside job?
Mr. Monk: Maybe it’s that comedian. Wouldn’t that be great?
Adrian Monk turns his attention to powder on the floor.
Mr. Monk: Do you have a piece of paper?
Mr. Monk: Isn’t that a notepad in your pocket?
Tony sighs and reluctantly gives Adrian Monk a sheet from his notepad.
Adrian Monk picks up some of the powder. He and Bronwynn smell it.
Bronwynn: It’s lime?
Mr. Monk: It’s calcium oxide—quicklime.
Tony: What’s that supposed to mean?
Mr. Monk: It’s used to cover up smells. Smugglers use it to fool drug-sniffing dogs.
Bronwynn: Oh! I’ve seen the mob use it when they try to hide a body.
Mr. Monk: You’ve seen the mob use it?
Bronwynn: I mean, in that movie GoodFellas I saw it.
Mr. Monk: Actually, this is good news.
Tony: How so?
Bronwynn: Because it means the body’s still in the hotel, right? So that means we have to keep checking every bag going out.
Tony: Oh, no, no, no, no, no. You’re time is up. We had a deal.
Bronwynn: Oh, come on. The deal is off, Tony! Work with us here. If they get rid of the body, we have no case.
Tony: I’ll give you until noon tomorrow. You’ll be checking out then anyway. Tick! Tick! Tick!
Mr. Monk: God, I hate it when people go, “Tick, tick, tick.”
Sharona Fleming sunbathes at the poolside. Adrian Monk stands in front of her.
Mr. Monk: The body is still here…in the hotel. I know it is. Somewhere inside this hotel, but where?
Sharona Fleming sighs.
Sharona: Adrian, you’re ruining the last hours of my vacation.
Adrian Monk leans close to Sharona Fleming.
Mr. Monk: Hello? I’m solving a murder.
Sharona: Well, do it three feet to the left.
Sharona Fleming’s date last night arrives.
Man: Well, well. Here you are.
Sharona: Here I am.
Man: So how about a rematch?
Sharona: Are you a glutton for punishment?
Man: Oh, I’m a glutton for a lot of things.
Sharona Fleming chuckles.
Sharona: I bet you are.
Man: Okay, I’ll book the court. And then I’m gonna beat the pants off you.
Sharona: You wish. I’ll see you later.
Mr. Monk: See ya. Do you like him?
Sharona: Mm--hmm. Why? Is there a reason why I shouldn’t? Adrian, if you know something about him, you have to tell me. That’s the rule.
Mr. Monk: I thought the rule was I should keep it to myself.
Sharona: Well, it’s a new rule.
Mr. Monk: Well, he, uh, he might be married.
Sharona: Might be or is?
Mr. Monk: His wife’s name is Julie or Julia. It was hard to read ‘cause the check was upside down.
Sharona: What check?
Mr. Monk: When he was buying his sunglasses. There were two names. It’s a joint account.
Sharona: You know, you could be wrong. You’re not perfect.
Mr. Monk: That’s true.
Sharona: You were wrong about Mr. Fenimore killing his wife.
Adrian Monk watches as a maintenance guy pours shovel full of powder over the grass.
Sharona: Maybe you’re losing your superpowers.
Mr. Monk: Maybe I am.
Adrian Monk removes his sunglasses.
Mr. Monk: The groundskeeper. He’s using lime.
Sharona; I think you should take eight or nine hours and check it out.
Adrian Monk snoops around the tool shed. He sneaks inside through a window, but gets caught in a spider web.
Mr. Monk: Dah!
Adrian Monk tries to shake off the cobweb. He sputters. The maintenance guy arrives.
Maintenance Guy: Don’t even think about moving.
The maintenance man dials the phone.
Mr. Monk: Who are you calling?
Maintenance Guy: Who do you think? Security.
Mr. Monk: Security, extension 404. Give my regards to Bronwynn.
Maintenance Guy: How do you know Bronwynn?
Mr. Monk: I’m working with her on a case.
The maintenance man puts down the telephone.
Maintenance Guy: Oh, yeah. I—I’ve seen you with her. I’m Rawley.
Rawley extends his hand. Adrian Monk just looks at it.
Rawley: You want to tell me what’s going on?
Mr. Monk: One second.
Adrian Monk struggles to remove the spider web from his hand. He shakes his hands to get it off, but to no avail. He sputters then wipes his arms and face. Finally, he manages to remove the sticky cobweb.
Mr. Monk: Why didn’t you report it, Rawley?
Rawley: Report what?
Mr. Monk: The missing bags of lime?
Adrian Monk points at the sacks of lime.
Rawley: How’d you know about that?
Adrian Monk spits.
Rawley: I thought I could handle it myself.
Mr. Monk: How many did they take?
Mr. Monk: When did this happen?
Rawley: Sometime last night. That’s all I know.
Adrian Monk turns to the door.
Mr. Monk: Was that door locked?
Rawley: All the time. Dead bolt. I’m the only one with a key.
Mr. Monk: What do they weigh? About 40 pounds each?
Mr. Monk: Heavy bags. Locked door. They probably used the window. There had to be—there had to be more than one person. I think we’re looking for a gang. Did they move those pallet boards?
Rawley: They don’t belong there.
Mr. Monk: They were short.
Rawley: A short gang of lime thieves?
Mr. Monk: It’s a nutty world.
Sharona Fleming is playing tennis with his date. She hits the ball hard.
Man: Whoa. Sweetheart, where’d you learn that one?
Sharona Fleming continues to hit the ball hard and sometimes intentionally hitting the guy.
Man: Sweetheart, take it easy, will ya?
Sharona: Oh, I’m sorry. Did that hurt? Why don’t you have Julie put some ice on it? Or is it Julia?
Adrian Monk puts his clothes in a garbage bag.
Benjy: It stinks in here.
Mr. Monk: Oh, that’s the—the disinfectant. They cleaned the whole room.
Adrian Monk throws his clothes in the trash.
Benjy: That’s not the laundry. That’s the garbage.
Mr. Monk: I know.
Benjy: Okay, so why are you throwing it away?
Mr. Monk: They were irredeemable. Do you know what that means?
Adrian Monk puts on a new shirt.
Benjy: Uh, yeah. They got dirty.
Mr. Monk: Exactly.
Benjy: Listen, I wanted to say thanks.
Mr. Monk: For what?
Benjy: For believing me when nobody else did. Though you probably just felt sorry for me ‘cause my dad’s not around.
Mr. Monk: Hey, I don’t have to be your father to believe you or to be proud of you. If you say you saw a body, then something happened here, and I’m gonna find out what it is.
Benjy: I’ve never seen a room this clean. She must have worked all night.
Mr. Monk: Oh, it wasn’t just one. It was a whole group of them. Four maids.
Adrian Monk pauses.
Mr. Monk: A…short gang. The maids.
Adrian Monk picks the lock of the locker room.
Mr. Monk: Okay. Just for the record, what we just did—
Benjy: Breaking and entering.
Mr. Monk: Yeah. It’s wrong, okay? Don’t—don’t do it.
Benjy: All right. Where are we?
Mr. Monk: The maid’s locker room.
Benjy: You think dead body is in here?
Mr. Monk: Maybe. It’s been everywhere else.
Adrian Monk looks at the name on one of the lockers.
Mr. Monk: Look at this, Olivencia. They were talking about her. She quit yesterday.
Adrian Monk opens the Lupe Olivencia’s locker to find that her things are still there.
Mr. Monk: Uh-oh.
Benjy: What’s wrong?
Mr. Monk: She never changed back into her street clothes. Benjy, the woman you saw—the woman who was attacked—could she have been a chambermaid?
Mr. Monk: Well, was she wearing a dress something like this?
Adrian Monk points at a maid’s dress hanging on one of the racks.
Benjy: Yeah, I think so.
Mr. Monk: Good.
Benjy: At least we know who we are looking for.
Adrian Monk turns his attention to a tiled wall.
Mr. Monk: That one tile. Hmm. It’s upside down.
Adrian Monk goes over to the tile. He takes some paper towels and a knife. He removes the tile and finds digital cameras inside it.
Benjy: Oh, cool.
Adrian Monk takes the cameras.
Mr. Monk: What are they?
Benjy: They’re—they’re digital cameras. I’ve never seen them this small.
Mr. Monk: What’s that, a screen?
Benjy: Yeah. You see, you can see the pictures they took.
Adrian Monk turns on the digital camera and sees a picture of a document.
Benjy: What is it?
Mr. Monk: Financial documents.
Benjy: Okay, that’s boring.
Mr. Monk: No, no. Not to some people.
Adrian Monk and Benjy hurry to put back the cameras inside the wall as they hear the maids approach. The maids enter the locker room.
Housekeeper #1: Mr. Monk? What are you doing here?
Mr. Monk: Uh, we’re lost. We’re looking for the…Ping Pong table…and…
Adrian Monk starts acting playing ping-pong.
Mr. Monk: For the Ping-Pong…room. Uh, just—it’s funny. I’ve been here a week, and I still, uh—I still can’t find my way around.
Adrian Monk and Benjy make their way to the door.
Mr. Monk: But, uh—but we’re gonna find it. It’s probably downstai—
Adrian Monk turns to Benjy.
Mr. Monk: I told you downstairs. You gotta argue about every little thing. We’re gonna find it. It’s gonna be—
Mr. Monk: We got it. It’s—Hasta luego.
Adrian Monk and Benjy leave. The maids look at each other and see that the locker of Lupe Olivencia had been opened.
Adrian Monk returns with Bronwynn to the maid’s locker room.
Mr. Monk: The maids locker room, right down here.
Ms. Bronwynn: God, you’re good! It took me six months to find this place. Hey, Landis says you’ve gotta check out by 4:00pm. No extension.
Mr. Monk: Four pm. That only gives me three hours.
Ms. Bronwynn: That’s all Clint had in Dirty Harry.
Mr. Monk: Hey, uh, Rita, you have had non-fictional police experiences, right?
Ms. Bronwynn: Yeah, sure.
After several tries, Bronwynn finally opens the maid’s locker room with her key pass.
Ms. Bronwynn: Hola, ladies.
Adrian Monk points at Lupe Olivencia’s locker.
Mr. Monk: That’s the locker.
Bronwynn opens it.
Ms. Bronwynn: What’d you do with her clothes?
Housekeeper #1 speaks in Spanish. Adrian Monk tries to pry open the tile.
Ms. Bronwynn: Ah.
Adrian Monk fails to take off the loose tile.
Mr. Monk: It was here. They must have glued the tile back on.
Housekeeper #1 speaks in Spanish.
Ms. Brownynn: What now? Suddenly you don’t speak English? Well maybe, you’ll understand this. The party’s over. La fiesta esta…over. We’re onto you.
Mr. Monk: We know you killed Lupe Olivencia.
Housekeeper #1: You think because you’re rich and white…you think you can accuse anybody of anything?
Mr. Monk: Mrs. Garcia, I’m not accusing anybody of anything. I’m accusing you of murder.
Adrian Monk, Bronwynn and Sharona Fleming sit at a table by the pool.
Mr. Monk: I should have known. Fenimore’s room was too clean. Who else could have pulled that off in just 15 mintues?
Ms. Bronwynn: They’re the housekeepers from hell.
Sharona: Wait, wait, wait. They’re stealing cameras?
Ms. Bronwynn: No. They’re stealing information.
Mr. Monk: Confidential financial information. Who is merging with whom, who’s about to go under.
Ms. Bronwynn: It’s the perfect setup. We have conferences here all the time—brokerage firms, investment companies—
Mr. Monk: Who’s in a better position to steal information. Nobody gives the housekeeping staff a second thought.
Ms. Bronwynn: They’re invisible.
Flashback: Mrs. Garcia copies files from a laptop to a floppy disk.
Ms. Bronwynn: So people hide their wallets. They hide their jewelry. No one thinks to hide their briefcases or their laptops.
Mr. Monk: The maids were cleaning up.
Ms. Bronwynn: Literally. Hey, maybe we can get the IRS to nail them for insider trading.
Mr. Monk: No, I’m guessing they were too smart for that. They probably got their friends and family members to buy the stocks for them.
Sharona: I don’t’ get it. Who did they kill?
Mr. Monk: The missing maid.
Ms. Bronwynn: Maid number five.
Mr. Monk: Lupe Olivencia.
Flashback: Lupe Olivencia looks at the digital camera.
Ms. Bronwynn: She probably got greedy.
Flashback: Mrs. Garcia and Lupe Olivencia are arguing. All the other maids are upset with her.
Mr. Monk: Or more likely, she grew a conscience and then wanted out. Whatever the reason, they had to get rid of her.
Flashback: The maids strangle her then Mrs. Garcia stabs a pair of scissors on her chest. She grabs on to the curtain then falls on the floor.
Ms. Bronwynn: So then they went to work.
Flashback: One of the maids puts on new curtains, while another one vacuums.
Mr. Monk: It was the cleanest crime scene in the history of crime.
Flashaback: The others wrap her body with plastic.
Ms. Bronwynn: And we can’t prove a thing.
Mr. Monk: Not without a body. No body, no case. But it just has to be here somewhere.
Benjy runs over to them.
Sharona: Benjy, what is it?
Benjy: I found her again.
They all run to the beach where a bunch of people gathered around an exposed foot.
Ms. Bronwynn: Okay, everybody, clear away. Don’t touch a thing.
Bronwynn exhales deeply.
Ms. Bronwynn: Okay, partner. We got ‘em.
Bronwynn pulls out her cell phone.
Ms. Bronwynn: I’m gonna call homicide and the district attorney’s office.
Mr. Monk: And the coroner’s office. We’re gonna need a full forensics team.
A girl comes out of the sand.
Girl: How long was that? Was that the record?
The girl stands up and high fives her friends.
Girl: All right!
Mr. Monk: So, it’s gotta be in the hotel.
Adrian Monk and Bronwynn search inside a hotel room.
Mr. Monk: Bronwynn, if we don’t find the corpse in the next 20 minutes, they get away with murder.
At the kitchen, the maids are in a panic. Adrian Monk and Bronwynn go to the kitchen. They pass a bellboy pushing a meal cart.
Adrian Monk and Bronwynn run back to the bellboy and inspect the lower part of the cart that’s hidden by a tablecloth. The body is not there. They go through a pile of laundry. The maids watch them as they rummage through dirty sheets. They then inspect the kitchen storage, but still not body. A maid watches Bronwynn scour the icebox, but the body is also not there.
Tony: There’s nothing I can do about it, Mr. Monk. We’re completely booked. I’m sorry.
Mr. Monk: No, you’re not.
Ms. Bronwynn: Tony, they are stealing insider information right from under our noses.
Mr. Monk: We are convinced that they murdered Lupe Olivencia.
Tony: Where’s your proof? Where’s the body?
Ms. Bronwynn: Okay, we can’t find the body—
Tony: Because it doesn’t exist. Now, it’s check out time Mr. Monk. You are now officially trespassing in my hotel.
Mr. Monk: But the case—
Tony: Why don’t you just go home and tell your therapist all about it.
Ms. Bronwynn: Tony, listen. I have to talk to you.
Tony Landis and Bronwynn leave. Adrian Monk walks over to Benjy who is standing in front of the set for a Cruise Raffle.
Mr. Monk: Where’s your mom?
Benjy: Uh, she’s just picking up some pictures.
Sharona: This place is the pits. Missing bodies, married men, and half of these didn’t even come out.
Benjy points at one of the pictures.
Benjy: Ooh, I like this one.
They look at their picture by the Cruise Raffle set decor.
Sharona: You can tell it was our first day. We were smiling.
Sharona Fleming sighs.
Sharona: Let’s go. Let’s get out of here.
The maids sneer as they watch them leave.
Mrs. Garcia: Drive carefully, Mr. Monk.
Mr. Monk: This isn’t over.
The maids just chuckle. Sharona Fleming turns to Tony Landis holding up a comments and suggestions card.
Sharona: I’m gonna mail this in. I have a could of comments.
Adrian Monk turns to Bronwynn.
Mr. Monk: I guess you’re on your own.
Ms. Bronwynn: I’m gonna get ‘em.
Mr. Monk: I bet you will.
Bronwynn pulls up her pack of mint toothpicks.
Ms. Bronwynn: Have one for the road.
Adrian Monk takes one and puts it in his pocket. They walk out the door and make their way to their car.
Sharona: Benjy, buckle up.
Sharona Fleming hands the pictures to Adrian Monk.
Adrian Monk turns around to take one last look of the hotel.
Sharona: Adrian, just let it go. You can’t win ‘em all. Come on! Come on.
They get in the car and drive away. A few seconds later, Sharona Fleming steps on the break then reverses. Adrian Monk with a smile on his face re-enters the hotel carrying with him a picture. He walks to the Cruise Raffle set. Sharona Fleming, Benjy and the maids follow him. Adrian Monk straightens the Cruise Raffle sign. Bronwynn is talking with Tony Landis.
Bronwynn: How can you say when you—
Adrian Monk’s arrival disrupts their conversation. He signals to Bronwynn to watch. Adrian Monk shows them the picture then points at the boxes on the picture. He counts with his fingers up to three. He points to the boxes that are on the Cruise Raffle set now then counts again with his fingers, only now he counts four. Brownynn quickly goes over to the fourth box and opens it to reveal the corpse of Lupe Olivencia. Adrian Monk turns to Benjy. The boy smiles.
Adrian Monk is back at his house unpacking.
Mr. Monk: I don’t think I can wait a whole year.
Sharona: For what?
Mr. Monk: Our next vacation.
Sharona: You enjoyed that?
Mr. Monk: Oh, I had a great time.
Sharona: Okay, for your information that was not a vacation, Adrian. A vacation is supposed to be fun and relaxing. That was murder camp.
Mr. Monk: I was thinking, the first week of November, there’s this place in Monterey.
Sharona: No. No, forget it. No more vacations. The next time you try to make me take a vacation, I swear I’m quitting.
Sharona Fleming falls silent.
Sharona: I can’t believe I just said that.
Mr. Monk: You seem upset.
Sharona: I am upset.
Mr. Monk: You know what you need?
Sharona: Shut up.
Mr. Monk: Vacation!
Sharona: Shut up!
This is not the actual script. This is my own transcription of the episode. The “Mr. Monk Takes A Vacation” episode was written by Hy Conrad . Monk is owned by Universal Media Studios in association with Mandeville Films and Touchstone Television.
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