Sunday, June 17, 2012

Mr. Monk and the 12th Man – Monk Transcript 2.9

Man with pipe in head Tollbooth Attendant #1: So the salesman says, “Try the cleats.”  I said, “what do I need cleats for? I work in a tollbooth for God’s sake.”
Tollbooth Attendant #2: They just want the commission.
Tollbooth Attendant #1: Exactly.  It’s all about volume to them.
Tollbooth Attendant #2: Janet buys all her shoes by mail.
Tollbooth Attendant #1: You know, I don’t get that.  How do you buy shoes by mail? I mean, I gotta walk around in them.  I’ve gotta walk around the block.Continue reading...

A black car pulls up by the booth.

Tollbooth Attendant #2: How you doing?

The driver gives the guard a bill.

Tollbooth Attendant #2: I’m out of ten.
Driver: Are you Pulaski?
Tollbooth Attendant #2: Yeah.
Driver: Frank Pulaski?
Tollbooth Attendant #2: That’s right.  Do I know you?
Driver: Just give me my change.

Frank Pulaski hands the driver his change.  The driver handcuffs one of Frank’s hand.  The handcuff is tied to the car.

Frank: Hey! What the hell is this?

The driver dumps the rope that is tied to the handcuff and the car, and drives away.

Frank: Help, Tommy! That guy! I can’t get it off! Do something!

Tommy tries to remove the knot from the handcuff.

Tommy: I’m trying here!
Frank: Tommy! No!

Frank is dragged to the ground.

Frank: No!
Tommy: Oh, my.

Adrian Monk and Sharona Fleming are at the dry cleaners.  The sign on the counter reads “Ring Bell for Service”, and underneath it a handwritten note adds “Except Mr. Monk!!”  Adrian keeps ringing the bell, while Sharona reads the newspaper.  Sharona gasps.

Sharona: Oh, my God! Oh, my God. Look at this.  Look at this on page 10.  That’s me and Kenny at the fundraiser he took me to.

Sharona shows Monk a picture of her with Deputy-mayor Kenny Shale on the newspaper.

Monk: Mrs. Ling? Hello, it’s ten o’clock.
Sharona: Adrian? Adrian? See that tie? I picked it out for him.
Monk: Mmm-hmm.
Sharona: He said he trusted my taste.  Imagine spending time with a man who actually cares about what I think.
Monk: Uh-huh.  Mrs. Ling? Ten o’clock!  Hello?
Sharona: Adrian, Adrian, listen to this.  Listen, listen.  “Deputy-mayor Kenny Shale with an unidentified friend…” that’s me.
Monk: Mmm-hmm.
Sharona: “Seen Friday night at the Gala Children’s Fund Benefit.  Mr. Shale is being touted by many pundits as a possible candidate in next year’s mayoral election.”  You know what that means?
Monk: No.
Sharona: I could be dating the next mayor of San Francisco.
Monk: I thought you didn’t like Kenny.
Sharona: I don’t know.  I changed my mind.  Oh, my God.  I’ve got to get more copies.

Monk continues to ring the bell, and an annoyed Mrs. Link comes to the counter.

Mrs. Ling: Mr. Monk, I tell you before.  Do not ring the bell.

Monk continues to ring the bell.

Mrs. Ling: Stop that!

Mrs. Ling takes the bell away.

Mr. Monk: It’s ten o’clock, Mrs. Ling.  The ticket says, “Tuesday, 10 a.m.”
Mrs. Ling: It’s an approximation, Mr. Monk.  It means “about ten o’clock.”  Not at ten o’clock, you crazy man.  What’s wrong with you? Okay, give me your ticket.

Mrs. Ling sighs.

Mrs. Ling: Oh, Mr. Monk, I told you before, no copies.  Where’s the original ticket?
Mr. Monk: It’s safe at home in my file.
Mrs. Ling: What do you need a file for? This is dry cleaning ticket!

Mr. Monk rings the bell.

Mrs. Ling: Stop that.  Why you let him Xerox?
Sharona: I’m not with him every minute.
Mrs. Ling: Oh, okay. Here you go.  Four shirts, okay? That’s $24.

Mrs. Ling points to the board with the list of prices.  There’s a line item that reads “Mr. Monk $6.00”.

Monk: Why do I pay more?
Mrs. Ling: Because you’re so much trouble, okay.  I got to clean everything twice then I got stand here and talk to you for like half an hour.

Adrian Monk hands the payment.

Mrs. Ling: Okay, good.  Thank you.  Bye-bye, now.
Sharona: Thank you, Mrs. Ling.  Thank you.
Monk: Wait.
Sharona: What is it now?
Monk: Well, this is all wrinkled.
Sharona: Well, it’s cellophane.  It’s gonna get wrinkled.
Mrs. Ling: That’s cellophane, crazy man!
Sharona: Come on.
Monk: What, what’s this?
Mrs. Ling: Oh, that? That, that’s nothing.  Okay, bye-bye, now.  Bye-bye.
Sharona: Go.  Let’s go.
Monk: This isn’t my button.
Mrs. Ling: Your button fall of, but I found a new one.  Identical, no difference.
Sharona: Looks the same to me.

Sharona’s cellphone rings, and she answers it.

Monk: The button matches, but the stitching is all different.  See? O-on the other ones, the thread is crisscrossed, but here, look.  It’s parallel!
Mrs. Ling: That’s how I sew them.  Parallel! That’s my style.
Monk: But it doesn’t match.  I have to live in this town!
Sharona: All right, we’ll be right there.

Sharona hangs up the phone.

Sharona: Hey, another job.
Monk: I’ve got a good mind to take my business elsewhere.
Mrs. Ling: Oh, please do, okay.  Quit me, okay.  Bye-bye!
Monk: No, no.  Relax, Mrs. Ling.  I was, I was just kidding.  Just kidding.  You’re the best dry cleaner in the city.  I’m not going anywhere.

Mr. Monk rings the bell.

Sharona: Adrian, stop that.

Mr. Monk and Sharona meet with Captain Leland Stottlemeyer at the scene of the crime.

Monk: Handcuffed to one wrist and tied to seventy-feet of rope.  Ugh, God!
Stottlemeyer: And then he was dragged west seven-tenths of a mile.  I just saw the body or what’s left of it.
Sharona: Oh, God.
Stottlemeyer: The M.E. said he’s never seen anything like it.  There’s no end to it.
Monk: What do you mean?
Stottlemeyer: I mean, this is number nine.  Nine bizarre murders in the past two weeks.  Every time my beeper goes off, my heart skips a beat.
Monk: Are they connected?
Stottlemeyer: No.  No connection at all.  I mean, four have been men, five women, all different ages.  Latino, white, black.
Monk: And the M.O.’s?
Stottlemeyer:  All different.  There’s been a couple of shootings, different weapons, a hit-and-run, a drowning, an electrocution.  I mean, it’s, it’s like a full moon every night.
Monk: And you’re sure that the cases have absolutely nothing in common?
Stottlemeyer: Well, they have one thing in common, Monk.  We can’t solve them.  I swear, there’s something in the water.

Mr. Monk and Captain Stottlemeyer walk away.  Sharona is left with Lieutenant Randy Disher.

Disher: Saw the picture of you and your new boyfriend.
Sharona: He’s not my boyfriend.
Disher: Hmm.  I was thinking of voting for him, but, uh, now I worry about his judgment.  I mean, if he’s going out with you, there’s no telling what else he might do.  Start a nuclear war or something.
Sharona: I’ll tell him that you said that.
Disher: No, I don’t.  Just—I was joking.
Sharona: Then I’ll tell him you were joking.
Disher: No, don’t say that.  Just don’t say anything.

A police officer approaches them.

Officer: I brought you some coffee.
Disher: Thank you.  I appreciate it.
Officer: Actually, it’s for Sharona.
Sharona: Oh, thanks.
Officer: Tell Kenny I said “Hi.”
Sharona: I will.
Tommy: He stayed on his feet as long as he could.  Then he fell, dragged away.  I could hear him screaming and begging.  It could have been me.  It should have been me.
Monk: What do you mean?
Tommy: I was wide open.  Frankie had three cars in line.
Monk: Wait, you were wide open? But the killer went to Mr. Pulaski’s booth and waited in line?
Tommy: Yeah.
Monk: Why would he do that unless…
Stottlemeyer: He was after that particular guy.  So, you didn’t see the driver, and you didn’t get a make of the car?
Tommy: Sorry, it might have been a Chrysler.  I’m not sure.

Mr. Monk enters Frank’s tollbooth, and finds a bill inside an evidence bag.

Monk: Captain, what’s this?
Stottlemeyer: The killer paid his toll with that.  That’s supposed to be at the lab.  Lieutenant!

Police officers have gathered around Sharona.

Stottlemeyer: Hey! Hey, guys. What is this, a high school dance? Give the girl some room.  Let her breathe.  Come here.  I want to talk to you.

Captain Stottlemeyer pulls Sharona aside.

Stottlemeyer: I understand that you are seeing Kenny Shale.
Sharona: Oh, it’s nothing serious.
Stottlemeyer: Yes, it is.  I wanna tell you something, Sharona.  Your life is about to change.  Everybody you know is gonna want a piece of you.  You’re not gonna know who to trust.  Monk can’t help you with this, all right?
Sharona: Mmm-hmm.
Stottlemeyer: He’s, he’s brilliant, but he’s Monk.  He’s lost in Monkland.

Adrian Monk inspects he tollbooth in his bizarre way.

Sharona: Mmm-hmm.
Stottlemeyer: Now, I’ve been where you are.  I’ve been in the spotlight.  And, well here.  I want you to take that.
Sharona: What is it?
Stottlemeyer: That’s my cell phone number, okay? You call me 24/7 if you need anything.  Yeah, I just don’t want to see you get hurt.
Sharona: Oh, thanks a lot.  Thanks.
Stottlemeyer: Yeah.  Oh, I was thinking, um, maybe we could get together, do a double date kind of thing.  Me and Karen, you and Kenny? I’ve always liked Kenny.  Kenny, he’s—he’s a good guy.  He’s good people.
Sharona: You called him a weasel.
Stottlemeyer: No, I didn’t.
Sharona: Yeah, you did, three weeks ago.
Stottlemeyer: No, I never said “weasel.”  I said he was a, a w…  Oh, yeah, I said “weasel.”  I called him a weasel.  But then, you see, I…that’s not a bad thing.  I had a weasel.  A weasel is a noble animal, all right.  It’s…it’s a term of endearment.  Jerry!

Captain Stottlemeyer greets one of his police officers who happen to be passing by.

Stottlemeyer: Hey, how you doing, you weasel? Good to see you.  See, I call everybody a weasel.
Monk: Captain.  Captain, look at this.

Captain Stottlemeyer walks over to the tollbooth where Monk is at.

Monk: His coin tray was almost empty.  He was just starting his shift?
Tommy: That’s right.  He was.
Monk: So the killer had to have been waiting for Pulaski to come on duty.
Tommy: That’s right.  I remember.  The guy was parked over there by the call box for about twenty minutes.
Stottlemeyer: Hmmm.  So he was waiting? What do you think, Sharona?
Sharona: Me?
Stottlemeyer: Yeah.

Adrian Monk is at Dr. Kruger’s office.

Monk: She’s dating Kenny Shale, who’s running for mayor.
Kruger: Yeah, I know.  I…I’ve been reading about him.
Monk: I don’t think she really likes him.  I think she just likes all the attention.  Everyone in the department has been fawning over her, laughing at her jokes, getting her coffee.
Kruger: Maybe you should be happy for her.
Monk: Can I tell you something?
Kruger: Yeah, that’s why we’re here.
Monk: The last few days.  I find myself thinking that if Kenny Shale is elected and Sharona is still with him, maybe she could…
Kruger: She could help to get you reinstated to the department.
Monk: I’m as bad as any of them.
Kruger: Oh, Adrian, no, no, no.  You see, there’s nothing wrong with being ambitious.  It just means that you’re human.
Monk: Human.  It’s been a long time since anybody has called me that.

Dr. Kruger notices that Monk has his hand covering his shirt.

Kruger: What’s wrong with your shirt?
Monk: Nothing.
Kruger: Why are you holding it like that?

Adrian Monk removes the hand covering his shirt.

Monk: I put on the wrong shirt.
Kruger: What? There’s a stain? Because, see, I don’t…I don’t see anything.
Monk: It’s the button.  Mrs. Ling sewed it back on.  The stitching is all different.
Kruger: The…the…the stitching?
Monk: It’s not crisscrossed! It’s parallel.  Don’t…don’t pretend you don’t see it.

A woman is a movie theater watching a classic Hitchcock film.  A man sits right behind him.  The man whispers her name.

Man: Arlene? Arlene Carney?
Arlene: Yes?
Man: How are you, Arlene?
Arlene: Who is that?

The man strangles the woman.

Adrian Monk is with Captain Stottlemeyer interviewing the teenage theater attendant.

Attendant: The lady…well, the dead lady, she bought a ticket…
Monk: Did she appear to be waiting for somebody?
Attendant: No, sir.
Stottlemeyer: Did she look frightened?
Attendant: No, sir.
Monk: It fell off! And the dry cleaner sewed it on wrong.
Attendant: Sir?
Monk: Weren’t you staring at my button?
Attendant: No, sir.
Monk: Whatever.

The theater manager arrives.

Chuck: We haven’t met.  I’m Chuck Evered.
Stottlemeyer: The theater manager.

Evered and Monk shake hands.

Monk: Adrian Monk.

Adrian Monk signals for a wipe.

Monk: Sharona? Sharon…Sharona?
Stottlemeyer: If you’re looking for Jackie O., she’s over there.
Sharona: You know, Kenny took me to city hall last night, and we had dinner in the private dining room.
Disher: Wow, really?
Sharona: Maybe I’ll bring you next time.  Kenny might need a bodyguard.

Sharona’s cell phone rings.  Captain Stottlemeyer sprays Monk’s hand with water.

Sharona: Hello? Hi, Kenny.
Disher: Whoa, guys! Guys, keep it down.  Her Royal Highness is talking to Mr. Kenny Shale.

Sharona glares at Disher.

Disher: Go ahead.
Stottlemeyer: Go ahead, kid.  You’re doing fine.
Attendant: So, she goes inside, and about a minute later, a man steps up.
Monk: Can you describe him?
Attendant: I couldn’t really see his face.
Chuck: He was holding a handkerchief over his mouth like he had a cold.
Attendant: He bought a ticket for the same movie.  And…and I asked him if he wanted the combo special, which is a large popcorn and a medium drink.  A nine dollar value at only seven fifty.  He said no, and then he went inside and killed her, which I had no idea he was planning to do.
Stottlemeyer: And he paid you with this.
Attendant: Yes, sir.
Stottlemeyer: Great, thanks a lot.  You need to go downtown and talk to a sketch artist.  Jerry? Officer Johnson will give you a ride.

Officer Johnson escorts the attendant and his manager to his car.

Monk: Captain?
Stottlemeyer: What?
Monk: You’ve got a serial killer on your hands.
Stottlemeyer: Monk, the woman was strangled.  She didn’t know any of the other victims.  I am not crying wolf until I am one hundred percent sure.
Monk: This is definitely the same man that killed Frank Pulaski at the tollbooth.
Stottlemeyer: A lot of people pay with ten dollar bills.
Monk: It’s brand new.
Stottlemeyer: There are a lot of brand new tens out there right now.
Monk: The serial numbers are sequential.
Stottlemeyer: What? You remember that?
Monk: Well, I got a pretty good look at it.  The bill at the tollbooth ended with 6092B.  This is 6093B.
Stottlemeyer: A serial killer.

At the police station…

Disher: Captain.  Captain.  Washington just sent this down.  It’s a prelim psych profile.
Stottlemeyer: Let me guess.

Captain Stottlemeyer holds the folder on top of his forehead.

Stottlemeyer: The killer is between thirty and forty-five years old, white male, does not work in an office, probably spent time in the military, and definitely hates his mother.
Disher: Yeah, how’d you know?
Stottlemeyer: Because that’s what they always say.  That’s scrap paper.

Adrian Monk is inspecting the crime board.

Stottlemeyer: What about the ten dollar bills? Anything on them?
Disher: They’re from a bank in San Mateo, Wells Fargo, untraceable.
Stottlemeyer: Of course they are.  All right, everybody, listen up! Listen up! We’re not gonna find him flailing in the dark.  Let’s communicate, keep each other briefed.  We’re going dumpster diving. We’re gonna…

Lieutenant Disher pins something on the crime board.

Stottlemeyer: What are you doing? What is that?
Disher: I’m leaving a space for the next victim.
Stottlemeyer: Take that down.  Take it down.

Disher removes the paper.

Stottlemeyer: There is no next victim.  We’re stopping the son of a bitch at ten.

Sharona arrives giggling as she speaks with one of the detectives.

Sharona: Well, thank you.  Thank you.
Detective: Sharona! Are you cold?

The detective offers his jacket to her.

Detective: Here you go.

Sharona: Oh, thank you, Kevin.
Monk: Sharona! Look at this.  Look.

A delivery man arrives.

Delivery Man: Sharona Fleming?
Sharona: Oh, yes, I’m Sharona Fleming.
Delivery Man: These are from, uh, Kenny Shale.

The delivery man hands her a bouquet of flowers.  Sharona gasps in delight.

Sharona: Oh, my God.  They’re beautiful.  Thank you.
Kevin: Sharona, let me get you a vase for these flowers.
Sharona: Okay.
Monk: Sharona! Hello? Hey, Sharon…Sharona, look.

A bunch of detectives have gathered around Sharona.

Monk: Ms. Fleming?

Monk gives up calling for Sharona’s attention.

Monk: Lieutenant? Captain? Captain, can I show you something?

Adrian Monk points at the pictures of the victims when they were still alive.

Monk: Look, Lieutenant.  Look at this one, this one and that one.
Stottlemeyer:  Yeah, the calendars.  Exactly.
Monk: These three have the same calendar on their wall.
Stottlemeyer: Yeah, we noticed that yesterday, Monk.  Come here.  I want to show you something.

Captain Stottlmeyer leads Monk to his office, and Disher follows them.  Stottlemeyer pulls from his file drawer a calendar.

Stottlemeyer: They send me one of those every year.
Disher: Actually, they print twenty-five thousand.  I talked to the insurance company last night.  It’s a single office, mom and pop operation, still owned by Mr. Henry Smalls.
Monk: It can’t be a coincidence.  Captain, three of them, maybe more, with the exact same calendar.  We at least have to check this guy out.
Stottlemeyer: We already did.  Lieutenant?
Disher: Henry Smalls, forty-seven years old.  He’s been away for the last two weeks at an insurance convention in Baltimore.  He’s due back tonight.
Stottlemeyer: He’s been out of town, Monk.
Monk: Okay, okay, but maybe he’s the common denominator.
Stottlemeyer: Maybe you might be right, but I cannot put this on the top of my pile.  I have seven hundred leads.  At least half of them are stronger than this is.  I will get to that, eventually, I promise.
Monk: But he’s coming home tonight.
Stottlemeyer: I said eventually.

Monk and Sharona make their way out of the police station.

Sharona: Did I miss anything?
Monk: No, nothing much.  We were just trying to catch a serial killer before he strikes again.  Hardly worth mentioning really.  Listen, there’s a possible lead.  You and I are going to stake out the guy’s house later.
Sharona: You mean tonight?
Monk: Yeah.
Sharona: I can’t.  This is Kenny’s only night off.  Adrian, I told you three days ago that I needed tonight off.
Monk: Sharona, this guy’s coming home tonight.  I have to talk to him.
Sharona: Okay, so who’s stopping you? You don’t need me.
Monk: I don’t need you? Haven’t you been paying attention for the last three years?
Sharona: Hire a Kelly girl.
Monk: A what?
Sharona: A temp.  You pay them by the hour. They’ll do anything.
Monk: I can’t bring a temp on a stakeout!
Sharona: Oh! All I know is that I’m seeing Kenny tonight.
Monk: And I’m going on that stakeout.

Adrian Monk stakes out the house.  He takes a picture of the house.

Monk: Yeah, that’s the house.  Number 782.  He’ll be home any minute.

Kenny and Sharona are at the backseat of the car.

Kenny: I finally got you in the backseat, and after only three dates.
Sharona: Oh.

Sharona laughs.  Kenny starts kissing her neck.

Sharona: Um, Kenny, uh, you’ve got to behave yourself.  This is official police business.  You know what I mean?
Kenny: I am so sorry.  I’m just so excited.

Monk notices that the odometer on Sharona’s car is 999999.

Kenny: This is my first stakeout.
Sharona: Well, I brought you some doughnuts.
Kenny: Oh.

Monk starts the car and drives in reverse.

Sharona: Real stakeout food.
Kenny: Okay, and I brought the vino.  Now, this wine is thirty years old.  So, let’s not let it live another minute, okay?

Monk drives the car forward.

Kenny: Doughnuts and red wine.  This might be the best date I ever had.  Here, baby.  Take this.  Hey, Adrian, thanks again for inviting me.
Monk: Don’t make a mess back there.
Sharona: It’s my car.
Monk: That’s true.

Kenny’s phone rings.

Monk: Don’t make a mess back there.
Kenny: Hello? Yes, sir.  Thursday’s perfect.  Yes, sir.  I’ll see you there.  Well, yes, sir, she’s right here.  I’ll tell her.  Yes, sir.  Thank you.  The governor says hi.
Sharona: That was the governor?
Kenny: Mmm-hmm.
Sharona: He said hi to me?
Kenny: Yes, he did.
Sharona: Adrian, did you hear that?
Monk: Did he happen to mention me? I met him during the campaign.
Kenny: No.  No, he didn’t.  Mmm!
Monk: Saved his life, got him elected, that’s all.  Kenny, has Sharona told you about some of the cases I’ve been working on? You know, I uh, I could do so much more if I was, uh, officially reinstated.

Kenny and Sharona are busy with each other, and aren’t listening to Monk.

Kenny: Mmm.  Isn’t that good?
Sharona: No, it…but not…Kenny, not now.  I told you, remember? Not now.

Monk has been driving back and forth for quite some time now.

Sharona: Adrian, what are you doing?

Monk: The odometer’s 9999.  I’m trying to get it to zero.
Kenny: Why?
Monk: So then it’ll be at zero.
Kenny: But will that work? Do the numbers change if you just go backwards and forwards?

A taxi pulls up in front of a house.

Monk: It’s changing.  Look.  There it goes.
Sharona: It’s not moving.
Monk: Yeah, it’s moving.  It’s moving.

The guy walks to his house, and a guy in black appears from the corner of the house.

Monk: Oh, no.  Oh, God! Oh, no! Look out behind you!

The guy in black stabs the man.

Monk: Look out! Look out! Henry Smalls!
The guy repeatedly stabs the man.

Monk: Henry Smalls!
Sharona: Adrian!

Adrian Monk runs toward Henry Smalls and his attacker.

Sharona: What are you doing?
Monk: I don’t know!

Monk tackles the attacker, and struggles with him, but the man just throws Monk on the ground.  He runs away as Monk lies on the grass.

At the police station, Disher puts a picture of Henry Smalls on the wall.

Stottlemeyer: It’s number 11.  Damn it.  All right, nobody’s going home.  I want to know how many of our victims knew Mr. Henry Smalls.  We’re gonna revisit every crime scene.  We huddle back here at 0900.  Go.  Go!

The detectives leave.  Captain Stottlemeyer turns to Monk.

Stottlemeyer: You okay?
Monk: Yeah.
Stottlemeyer: What happened to your hands? You hurt both of your hands?
Sharona: No, just the left one.
Stottlemeyer: Why do you have bandages on both? Right.  Symmetry.  Where is our future mayor?
Sharona: He went home.  He was pretty shaken up.
Stottlemeyer: I’ll bet he is.
Disher: Grace under pressure.  That’s what I look for in a chief executive.
Stottlemeyer: Can you I.D. this guy?
Monk: I’m not sure.  He was wearing a ski mask.
Stottlemeyer: Well, you were right about Henry Smalls.
Monk: Except, I honestly thought he might be a suspect, not the next victim.
Stottlemeyer: Yeah, but it is something.  It’s something real.  We’ve got our foot in the door.  Thank you.  Oh, Monk, what the hell is going on here?
Monk: Okay.  A Hispanic plumber, a retired white cop, and African American school teacher, what do they have in common?
Stottlemeyer: Absolutely nothing.
Monk: Exactly.  They have nothing on common.  Different ages, occupations, some were rich, some poor.  Captain, this is a very diverse group.  They are too diverse.
Sharona: Too diverse?
Monk: I’m talking statistics.  You’d have to work hard, really hard to find a group this different plus look at this.

Monk points at a map.

Monk: The blue pins indicate where they lived, right?
Stottlemeyer: Yep.
Monk: The murders took place all throughout the Bay Area, but the victims all lived in Marin County.  What are the odds of that?
Stottlemeyer: Go on.  Go, go, go, go, go.
Monk: A diverse group, all registered to vote.  You know where you find a group like that?
Stottlemeyer: Yes, yes.  On a jury!
Disher: Yeah, yeah, yeah.  Hang on.  Hang on.  He’s right.  They all served on the same jury six years ago.
Monk: A jury.
Stottlemeyer: On a jury!

Captain Stottlemeyer kisses Monk on the cheek.  The next day, the Captain meets with Sharona, Monk  and Kenny.

Stottlemeyer: Eleven victims.  What did they have in common? They all served together on the same jury six years ago in Marin County.  It was a personal injury lawsuit.  A handyman named Ian Agnew fell off a roof and he landed on a metal pipe, which was sticking up out of the ground.  Now, he sued the homeowners, a Stewart and Lisa Babcock, for negligence.  Apparently, part of the pipe is still in the guy’s head.
Sharona: He has a pipe in his head?
Stottlemeyer: Yep, he’s got a three-quarter inch, galvanized metal pipe in his head.  They couldn’t remove all of it.
Monk: He has a pipe in his head?
Stottlemeyer: He was awarded $700,000.  The homeowners’ insurance paid for the whole thing.  It was a routine trial.
Monk: Except, six years later, the jury’s being killed off one at a time.
Kenny: Excuse me, Captain.  What happened to the 12th juror?
Stottlemeyer: That’s a good question, Kenny.  You know I could use a guy like you on the force.

Kenny winks at Sharona.

Stottlemeyer: The 12th and only surviving juror is a fellow named Cassidy.  Wallace J. Cassidy, we’re looking for him right now.
Sharona: Did anything unusual happen during the trial?
Stottlemeyer: Well, not according to this.  They, uh, deliberated for a day and a half.  They went and visited the scene of the accident then they were sequestered at a motel for a night, and they delivered their verdict.  It’s all very straightforward.
Disher: Captain! You ready for this?

Disher waits for an answer.

Stottlemeyer: Randy, you could be halfway through your first sentence now.

Disher: We just picked up Juror Number 12 at a casino in Wallenpaupack.

Disher hands Stottlemeyer a picture of the 12th man.

Disher: He gambles a lot.  He’s always in debt.  He did it.
Stottlemeyer: What? He confessed?
Disher: No, he lawyered up.  He’s not saying a thing.
Stottlemeyer: But you think he’s the guy?
Disher: He tried to bolt when we picked him up.  The guy put up a hell of a fight.  And, are you ready for this?
Stottlemeyer: Yes, Randy, we’re ready! You don’t have to ask.  You never have to ask.
Disher: We just came from his house.  There was a body part in the freezer.  A human finger.
Stottlemeyer: Really? Oh, the D.A.’s gonna love that.  They love body parts in the freezer.
Monk: But none of the victims were missing a finger.
Stottlemeyer: Yeah, well, uh, he killed somebody else.  I mean, that’s why they call them “psychotic.”
Monk: Why would he wait six years, and then kill everybody else on the jury?
Kenny: I don’t know and I don’t care.  Congratulations, Captain.  I’ll be sure to mention you in my statement.
Stottlemeyer: Whoa, hey, hang on.  Kenny, um, I think I should go with you.  They’re gonna have a lot of questions and, uh, I know this case inside and out.

Kenny looks at Sharona, and she smiles at him.

Kenny: Oh, all right, I’ll uh, I’ll say a few words and then I’ll introduce you, okay?
Stottlemeyer: Good deal.
Sharona: Oh, uh, Kenny?
Kenny: Yeah, babe?
Sharona: Wait.

Sharona fixes Kenny’s tie.

Sharona: Crooked.
Kenny: Thank you, honey.
Disher: Captain!

Lieutenant Disher helps the Captain with his jacket.

Stottlemeyer: Thank you, honey.
Kenny: Shall we?
Stottlemeyer: Yeah.
Monk: Wait! Cap—Captain? Why don’t we slow down here? I mean, what if I can I.D. this guy? I’d like to give it a try.  You want to be sure about this, right?

Adrian Monk tries to I.D. Henry Smalls attacker.  The Captain, Kenny, Disher and Sharona anxiously wait.

Monk: Number 5, could you slide a little to your right, a little more.  Thank you.  Number 1, you have some lint on your jumpsuit.  Number 2, could you help number one?
Sharona: Adrian, do you see the guy from last night?
Monk: Number 3, could you trade places with Number 2?
Stottlemeyer: Number 3, stay where you are.  Monk, do you see the guy or not? Listen to me.  This is very important for you.

Captain Stottlemeyer gestures four with his fingers when he speaks the word “for”.

Stottlemeyer: It’s very important for everybody.  So, for the record, before you say anything, please count to the number four.
Monk: Number four, could you step forward.  Could you straighten that number? He’s not the guy.  His fingernails are too long.
Stottlemeyer: His fingernails? The guy I fought last night didn’t have any fingernails.  I think he chewed them.  Monk, this guy is the only surviving member from that jury.
Disher: Oh, we found a finger in his icebox.
Monk: He’s not the guy.  I want to know more about that trial.  I think I should talk to the handyman who fell off the roof.
Kenny: Captain, the press is all over this thing. We can’t keep a lid on it.
Stottlemeyer: All right, Monk, look.  You go, you go and you talk to the handyman, okay? But you make it quick because I have got to go public tonight.  Go.

Adrian Monk and Sharona Fleming visit the handyman, Ian Agnew.

Monk: Thank you for seeing us.
Ian: Oh, I don’t mind.  I don’t get many visitors.  So, what can I do for you?
Monk: Mr. Agnew, we were wondering about your accident.
Ian: Please, sit down.

Ian looks as if he’s choking.

Sharona: Uh, Ian.  I used to be a nurse.  Is there anything I can do?
Ian: No, thank you.  It comes and goes.  It’s the pipe.  I have a piece of pipe in my head.
Monk: Oh.
Ian: I don’t get many visitors.  Please, sit…sit, sit, sit, sit, sit, sit, sit, sit, sit.
Monk: Sir? Uh, about your accident?
Ian: Oh, the accident, I really don’t remember much about it.  I, uh…we were building a cabana near the pool for the Babcocks, and uh, I was working on the roof, and there was a, a tile loose, and the next thing I knew, I woke up and I was a human smokestack.

Ian chuckles.  Sharona and Monk follow suit.

Ian: I’ll get it!

Ian picks up the phone even though it did not ring.

Ian: Hello? Hello? It’s a wrong number.  I get ‘em all the time.  How’s that coffee? Bad dog! Anyway, I, uh, I haven’t worked since.
Monk: Huh.  How did you get the job?
Ian: Mrs. Babcock hired me, although by the time I had started, she wasn’t there anymore.  They split up.  She ran off.  I never got the whole story.  I dealt mostly with, uh, her husband, Stew.  I’ll get it!

Ian picks up the phone that did not ring.

Ian: You know, I just changed my phone number and it doesn’t seem to help.  I don’t get many visitors.
Sharona: Did you go to the trial?
Ian: I testified.
Sharona: Did you spend any time with the jury?
Ian: No, ma’am.  I wish I had.  Uh…I wanted to thank them.  They were very generous.  I don’t get many visitors.

Ian starts singing at the top of his lungs.

Ian: Daisy, daisy, tell me your answer true.  Bad dog! You know what I think I miss the most? Not having this pipe in my head.  I have to take this.

Ian picks up the phone that did not ring.

Ian: Hello? Hello?

Sharona turns to Monk.

Sharona: I can’t believe you’re not the craziest man in the room.  How did you get this number?
Monk: We’ll let ourselves out.
Ian: You tell me who this is right now!
Monk: Go.  Go.  Go, go, go.
Ian: I don’t believe that for a minute.

Adrian Monk and Sharona Fleming visit the Babcocks.

Woman: Ah, that as before my time.  I didn’t even meet Stewart until after the trial.  Would you like some lemonade?
Monk: No, thank you.

The woman leads them to the pool where Stewart is.

Woman: Stew, these people want to talk about the handyman.
Stew: What handyman?
Woman: The one who sued you.
Stew: Why? That’s ancient history.
Sharona: Is that where he fell?

Sharona points at the roof of the cabana.

Stew: Uh, yes, it was.
Monk: Mr. Babcock, were you at home when the accident occurred?
Stew: No, I was on vacation with my wife.

Monk notices a dead leaf floating on the pool.

Stew: My first wife, The Dragon Lady.
Monk: Did you attend the trial?
Stew: Well, there was no reason to.  It was my insurance company’s headache.  What is this all about? I mean, that was settled, like, six years ago.

Monk takes the pool cleaner, and tries to fish out the dead leaf.

Monk: It’s, uh, it’s probably nothing.

Sharona goes over to Monk who’s reaching for the dead leaf.

Sharona: Will you stop it? Please?
Monk: Well, there’s another, another case involving a few of the jurors.
Woman: The jurors?

Stew stops biting his nails.

Sharona: Uh, yeah.  Did any of them try to contact you?
Woman: The jurors? No.  Why would they?

Monk gets the dead leaf, and shows it to the woman.

Woman: Thank you.
Monk: Do you have a trashcan?
Woman: Just toss it anywhere.
Monk: It’s wet.
Woman: It’s a leaf.
Sharona: Why don’t you just throw it on the ground?
Monk: I’ll throw it out.  You’ll thank me later.
Woman: Uh, around the corner in the kitchen.
Sharona: Thank you.

Sharona and Monk enter the kitchen.  Sharona is on the phone with Kenny.

Sharona: I had so much fun the other night.  Did you? Yeah.  We have to do it again.  I know.  Oh, you’re so bad.  Uh, hold on.  Hold on.

Monk throws the dead leaf in the trash.

Sharona: Kenny wants to know how we’re doing.
Monk: Tell him I don’t know yet.  The jury’s still out, so to speak.
Sharona: Uh, Kenny, you know what? He, he’s a little distracted right now.  Why don’t I call you back later? Okay, you did? Oh, my God.  Thank you.  You’re an angel.  An angel.  All right.  I’ll speak to you later.  Bye.

Monk inspects the pictures in the kitchen.

Sharona: Adrian, do you know what Kenny just did? He took care of all of my parking tickets.
Monk: He’s like Superman.  That’s strange.
Sharona: What?
Monk: Lisa Babcock said she didn’t meet her husband till after the trial, but look.

Monk shows Sharona the picture of Stew with Lisa at a restaurant.  Lisa was smoking a cigarette.

Monk: This picture was taken more than six years ago.
Sharona: How do you know?
Monk: I recognized that restaurant.  It’s O’Malleys on Richmond.  They haven’t allowed smoking in there since 1995, and he was chewing his nails.
Sharona: Who, Babcock?
Monk: Just now.  In the pool.
Sharona: So what does that mean?
Monk: It means they’re a couple of liars or maybe worse; maybe a lot worse.

The reporters are at the police station waiting for official word about the case.

Stottlemeyer: Kenny, come here.  Kenny, come here! What the hell are you doing? I didn’t authorize this.
Kenny: I did, Captain, the people of San Francisco are frightened.  They deserve to know that we have a suspect in custody.
Stottlemeyer: This is not a campaign stop, Kenny.  Monk could not I.D. the guy.
Kenny: Monk could not I.D. the guy’s fingernails, Captain.  That’s just not good enough.  Now, I have to reassure the citizens that we have made a significant breakthrough in this case.
Stottlemeyer: But we haven’t made…
Disher: Captain! We just found this photograph in Wallace Cassidy’s house.
Stottlemeyer: Oh, who’s this?
Disher: I don’t know, but, uh, she’s definitely a woman.
Stottlemeyer: She looks like she’s frozen.
Disher: Yeah, Captain.  This picture plus the finger in the freezer plus he tried to run, plus he is the only surviving member on that jury.
Kenny: What else do you need?
Stottlemeyer: Okay.  Okay, go ahead.

The press conference begins.

Man: Good afternoon.  In a few minutes, Deputy-mayor Kenny Shale will be making his brief statement regarding the recent series of homicides in…

Monk and Sharona arrive at the police station.

Disher: Monk, you’re too late.  They’re about to name Wallace Cassidy as the primary suspect.
Sharona: Oh!
Monk: No.  No, they’re making a mistake.  Lieutenant, there is something else going on here.  Stewart and Lisa Babcock are involved in all of this.  I know it.
Disher: The homeowners, right? Where the guy fell off the roof.  How?
Sharona: We’re still working on it.
Disher: Well, can you prove it?
Sharona: Not yet.
Monk: What, what’s this?
Disher: The coroner found it.  It’s a sleeve or part of it.  Henry Smalls, Juror Number 12, he was clutching it when he died.  He must have ripped it off the killer.

Monk inspects the sleeve.

Disher: Monk, forget it.  It’s a dead end.  It’s already gone through the lab.  It’s untraceable.
Man: There’ll be time for a “Q” and “A” later, but remember, officially, this is still an open case.  So we’re not going to be able to get…

Monk calls out to Captain in a whisper.

Monk: Captain! Captain!

Captain Stottlemeyer leaves the press conference to speak to Monk.

Stottlemeyer: What have you got? What’s up?
Monk: I think I know what’s been going on here.  It wasn’t Juror Number 12.  It was Stewart and Lisa Babcock.
Stottlemeyer: What? The couple that’s being sued? Are you sure?
Monk: Do you mean, am I certain?
Stottlemeyer: Yes.  Yes.  That’s what I mean by, “are you sure?”
Monk: Not yet.  I, I need an hour.  Just one hour, and then we’ll know.
Kenny: Is there a problem?
Man: Captain? Are we about ready?
Stottlemeyer: Hang on just a second.  Kenny, Monk needs an hour.  I’m gonna give it to him.
Kenny: What about the press?
Stottlemeyer: The press can wait.  That’s what they get paid for.
Kenny: Well, I can’t.  If we don’t start now, we’re not going to make the six o’clock news, all right? Look, I’m gonna go ahead with or without you, Captain. It’s called “leadership.”
Stottlemeyer: No, no, Kenny, it’s called grandstanding.

The Captain turns to Monk.

Stottlemeyer: Let’s go.

The Captain and Monk leave.

Sharona: Kenny! Kenny!
Kenny: Oh, hey sweetie, I’m glad you stayed.  Watch this.  A star is born.
Sharona: No, no, wait.  Kenny, Kenny.  Listen to me.  You’re making a big mistake.  This is the kind of mistake that, that people won’t forget.
Kenny: Well, Sharona, sweetheart, you don’t understand how this game is played.
Sharona: But you said you trusted me.
Kenny: Well, I trusted you to pick out my tie, babe.  Not with the big stuff.

Kenny takes the stage.

Kenny: Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen.  Thank you very much for coming.

Sharona walks away.

Kenny: I’d like you to know we’ve made a significant breakthrough in this case.

The Captain, Monk and Sharona arrive at the Babcock’s house as Stewart and Lisa prepare to leave.

Stottlemeyer: Mr. and Mrs. Babcock? San Francisco P.D.  I’m Captain Stottlemeyer.  Were you folks going somewhere?
Lisa: We’re just getting away for the weekend.
Stewart: Yes, we have a house at the beach.
Stottlemeyer: Well, I’m glad we caught you.
Sharona: “I trust you with my ties.” Where the hell does he get off?

Sharona kicks the tire of the Captain’s car.

Sharona: Where the hell…
Monk: I don’t know.  Are those passports in your handbag, Mrs. Babcock? You’re not leaving for the weekend, are you? You’re leaving for good, because you heard they just arrested Wallace Cassidy.
Stewart: Who?
Sharona: Fixes a few parking tickets and you think he can talk to me that way? Nobody talks to me that way.  Nobody!
Stottlemeyer: Wallace Cassidy.  He was on the jury when you were being sued six years ago.
Stewart: What are you talking about? Why would we care about somebody on a jury? That…
Monk: Maybe because you knew he was going to confess, not for murder, for blackmail.  Juror Number 12 was blackmailing you.  He knew that you had murdered your first wife.  After Ian Agnew fell off our roof six years ago and sued you for negligence, the jury was brought here to visit the scene of the accident.  One of them, Wallace Cassidy, wandered off.  Most likely, he was looking for something to steal.  Mr. Cassidy had a gambling problem.  He was always in debt.
Sharona: Oh, God.  I can’t believe I went out with him.  He’s not even my type.  I felt sorry for that stupid weasel.
Monk: Sharona?
Sharona: What!
Monk: We’re working here.  Mr. Cassidy never did find anything to steal.  He found something a lot more valuable.

In the flashback, Mr. Cassidy is shown opening a freezer finding the dead body of the first Mrs. Babcock.  He takes a picture of the dead body.

Monk: It was the first Mrs. Babcock.  He didn’t leave without taking a picture, and one of her fingers.
Stottlemeyer: We have that picture, and we have the finger.  It won’t be hard to prove who it belongs to.
Monk: He sent you an anonymous note demanding money.  You knew it was from one of the jurors, but you didn’t know which one.  At the time you didn’t really care.  Cassidy was small-time, and he wasn’t asking for much.  So you paid him and you thought that was the end of it, but it didn’t end there.  Cassidy kept coming back for more.  So you decided to kill the blackmailer, but since you didn’t know which of the twelve jurors it was, they all had to go, one at a time.
Sharona: Bastard!

Sharona slams the car.

Captain Stottlemeyer glares at Sharona.

Sharona: Not you.
Monk: Sharona, murderers, okay?
Stewart: Relax, honey.  They can’t prove a thing.  If they could, they would have arrested us as soon as they got here.
Monk: That’s true.  I couldn’t prove a thing until I found this.

Mr. Monk pulls out the piece of Stewart’s shirtsleeve.

Monk: Your shirtsleeve was torn off when you attacked Juror Number 11.
Stewart: Can you prove that’s my shirt?
Monk: No, sir, I can’t.

A car arrives followed by a police car.

Monk: But I know someone who can.  As soon as I saw this I had a strange feeling that the killer and I might have something in common.  We both use the same dry cleaner.
Mrs. Ling: Mr. Monk, why you bring me here? I got to close my shop.  I’m losing money. You’re just my worst customer.
Disher: The longest car ride of my life.
Monk: I’m sorry, Mrs. Ling, but this is very important.  Do you recognize this?
Mrs. Ling: Yeah.  Yeah, I know this shirt.  I clean this shirt.  Silk.  Beautiful shirt.  Hanger, no starch.  What’d you do to this shirt?
Monk: Mrs. Ling, there must be a thousand shirts like this in the world.  How do you know you cleaned this particular one?
Mrs. Ling: You know how.  The button, it fall off.  I sewed it back on.
Monk: The thread is parallel, not crisscrossed.  No one else sews a button on like this.
Mrs. Ling: I told you, Mr. Monk.  That’s my style! Always complaining about the button.  Hey, Mr. Babcock! When I fixed this shirt for you, you don’t complain, right? ‘cause you’re a good customer.
Stottlemeyer: Mrs. Ling, are you certain that this shirt belongs to Mr. Babcock?
Mrs. Ling: Yeah, I’m sure.  He’s a good customer.  You come back anytime, Mr. Babcock.
Disher: Ma’am, he just killed eleven people.
Stottlemeyer: Twelve.  Let’s not forget about the first Mrs. Babcock who I bet is buried under that new porch.
Mrs. Ling: Well, he’s still a good customer.  Not crazy like that Mr. Monk over there.
Disher: Mr. and Mrs. Babcock, could you step back inside, please? We’d like to ask you a few more questions.  Right this way.
Stottlemeyer: This way, please.
Monk: Thank you, Mrs. Ling.
Mrs. Ling: Yeah, yeah, all right.

Mrs. Ling walks towards Sharona.

Mrs. Ling: Hey, saw your boyfriend on TV last night.  Kenny Shale.  He’s a good man.  I like him.
Sharona: Yeah? Well, I like Mr. Monk better.
Mrs. Ling: Oh! Mr. Monk’s a crazy man.
Sharona: Well, I like him better.
Mrs. Ling: No.
Sharona: I do.
Mrs. Ling: Stop saying that.

Monk and Sharona visits the dry cleaners.  Mr. Monk carries a basketful of his laundry.  The sign says open, but there’s another sign that says “except Mr. Monk”.

Mrs. Ling: Go away, Mr. Monk! No! No more Mr. Monk! No, no, no.  Go! You! Go away!
Sharona: Oh, forget it.  We’ll find another cleaners.  You know.

Sharona turns to her car.

Sharona: Hey! Hey, hey! What are you doing?

An officer writes Sharona a ticket.

Officer: The meter ran out.
Sharona: I thought you fed the meter?
Monk: I was carrying this.
Sharona: Hey, hey.  Do you know Kenny Shale? He’s a good friend of mine.
Officer: You mean the former deputy mayor?
Sharona: Former?
Officer: Yeah, your good friend resigned this morning.  It was on the news.  Have a nice day.
Monk: Well, I guess the party’s over.
Sharona: I don’t miss him.  I miss the attention, but not him.  Here.

Sharona puts her parking ticket in Monk’s laundry basket.

Monk: What’s this?
Sharona: I’m not paying for it.
Monk: It’s your car.
Sharona: You didn’t put money in the meter.
Monk: Okay, let’s compromise.  You pay the ticket, and I…don’t.
Sharona: What kind of compromise is that?
Monk: Well, that’s the economical kind.


This is not the actual script. This is my own transcription of the episode. The “Mr. Monk and the 12th Man” episode was written by Michael Angeli.  Monk is owned by Universal Media Studios in association with Mandeville Films and Touchstone Television.


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