Mr. Monk and the New Lieutenant by Hy Conrad Read Free Book Online Page A

Monk as he slowly lumbered across to the girl in the straight-backed chair.
    As I watched him go, I couldn’t help thinking that this was not a positive step forward in our relationship with the new lieutenant.

CHAPTER SIX
    Mr. Monk Takes His Time
    T he autopsy results came back two days later.
    Despite the embalming fluid and all the other postmortem indignities, the medical examiner had been able to isolate enough tissue and blood and nail samples to confirm Monk’s diagnosis. The poison turned out to be thallium, element 81 on the periodic table. In the good old days it had been commonly used in rat poisons and ant killers, despite its amazing toxicity. Thallium is still fairly available, if you know where to look.
    The initial dose had been large, probably administered shortly before the judge’s collapse—shortly, as in less than an hour, perhaps mere minutes. Other doses had been administered in the following few weeks, right in the hospital, until the weakened man had succumbed to a heart attack.
    The judge’s symptoms had been similar enough to those for dengue fever—nausea, seizures, severe headaches, and severe joint pain. No one was blaming the hospital staff. The killer—whoever it was—obviously knew the judge had come back with some exotic ailment and was hoping his death would be blamed on whatever it was. If it hadn’t been forMonk and the fingernails, he probably would have succeeded.
    On her return to the States, Bethany Oberlin had been staying at the family home on Hyde Street. After the interrupted funeral, she was taken directly to the SF General and given blood and urine tests for heavy metals. Not a trace, thank God. Then she drove across the bay to stay with an old school friend while the house on Hyde Street was sealed on Captain Stottlemeyer’s orders.
    The first people allowed in were a forensics team in hazmat suits. After a day of vacuuming, sample taking, and checking the garbage cans, they proceeded to lab analysis. Nothing. Not the faintest residue, even though the deadly poison could be as fine as dust and leave traces everywhere. On the third day, the homicide team was granted entry, including the paid-by-the-hour consultants.
    â€œHow’s he going to find anything the poison guys couldn’t find?” A.J. complained as Monk wandered his way through the two-story house, his hands raised in his usual method. I couldn’t tell if Monk was doing this any slower than usual, but I hoped so.
    â€œYou’d be surprised what Monk can find,” said the captain.
    A.J. snickered and shook his head. “This is a dead end. If such a high dose of poison had been administered in the house, there should be some small trace—in the kitchen or a medicine cabinet.”
    â€œNot necessarily,” said Monk. “It could have been in something individually wrapped, like a stick of gum or a cough drop.”
    â€œThen where’s the wrapper?”
    â€œI’m working on it, Lieutenant,” said Monk. “It takes time. It could take days.”
    It was at this unfortunate moment that I happened to glance at my watch. A.J. caught me looking. “Are you guys trying to pad the bill? Is that what this is about? If you know something, Monk, you need to tell us. Those are the rules.”
    â€œI’m not aware of that rule,” I said. “But no, we’re not trying to pad the bill. I checked my watch because I happen to have a lunch date with my daughter. Is that all right, Lieutenant? Or are you going to dock me for leaving early?”
    The lieutenant said he didn’t object, as long as Monk stayed behind and kept his hands up. The captain volunteered to get Monk back to his apartment, then followed me out to the front porch. “Say hello to Julie for me. How’s she doing?”
    â€œShe’s doing great,” I said. “She still wants to be an intern for the firm of Monk and Teeger. But I think