Conrad Hy - Mr. Monk gets on board: a novel

AUTHORS NOTE
AND ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

One of the points of pride in the Monk writers room was that we never threw out a script. In eight full seasons, there was never a Monk episode that didnt get final network approval. This is rare, probably some sort of record. No matter how much everyone may say they love a story line, most shows produce a script or two every year that gets thrown into the trash bin.

That being said, there was one Monk episode that we lost, through no fault of our own.

During season three, someone got the bright idea to put Monk and Sharona on a cruise ship. The USA Network loved it and we turned in a great script. Then came the job of securing a location. Turns out the cruise lines are sensitive about murders on their ships and people falling overboard.

We tried everything to persuade them. We changed the killers identity, lowered the number of victims, etc. A close friend of mineand a huge Monk fanwas marketing director for Norwegian Cruise Lines. She read the script and told me to get lost. In a last-ditch effort, we contemplated filming on the Queen Mary, now a floating hotel in Long Beach. But that fell through.

Over the next five years, whenever we got low on plot twists, we would turn longingly to Mr. Monk Is at Sea and make a few calls. It became our white whale, the one Monk that never got made. Episode 126.

If you havent guessed by now, this is that story, the long lost episode from the Monk canon. Although it has been fleshed out with Natalie instead of Sharona, various subplots, and a visit to Mexico to meet old friends, its the same crazy, unimproved plot twist that six demented writers came up with back in 2004. Our oeuvre is complete.

In beginning this book, I called up Dan Dratch, the writer of record for At Sea. After spending an hour telling me what its like working with Charlie Sheen these days, Dan agreed to go into his archives and send me two completely different versions of the old script. Thanks, Dan.

In addition to Dan, contributors to the original include our fearless leader, Andy Breckman; his brilliant brother David, who probably came up with the murder method; Joe Toplyn, who tried his best to keep us within the bounds of reality; and comedy legend Tom Scharpling. I thank them all. Last but far from least, I owe a debt of gratitude to Talia Platz, my editor. The Monk books are stronger and cleaner due to her invaluable contributions.

Id also like to give a shout-out to the regulars at the Higgs Beach Dog Park in Key West. They had absolutely nothing to do with the book, but every evening they would greet us warmly, ask Did you get your words in today? and proceed to fill the next hour or so with lovely small talk. Much appreciated.

CHAPTER ONE

Mr. Monk and the Kissing Clowns

O pening a business has been tougher than I thought it would be.

I dont mean filling out the incorporation papers or passing my California PI exam. Those were difficult but doable. I mean the actual process of acquiring paying clients and getting the rest of the world to take me seriously.

Before I put you to sleep with my whining, I suppose I should explain.

My name is Natalie Teeger, licensed private investigator and owner of Monk and Teeger, Consulting Detectives, LLC. I like the old-fashioned sound of consulting detectives, like Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson, if Watson had ever decided to become Sherlocks full partner and get incorporated in the state of California. By the way, I am the same Natalie Teeger who used to be Adrian Monks assistant.

You would think this would be a promotion, going from babysitting a brilliant investigator to being his boss. But since this big change, our world had stayed surprisingly unchanged. Our only regular client continued to be the San Francisco Police Department. That wouldnt have been so bad except that the department was cutting back. Paying a private detective to do what your own people should be doing was no longer a priority.

It had been nearly a month since our last payday, a two-day case involving a deadly hit-and-run ice-cream truck, which wasnt as much fun as it sounds. The financial drought had made me desperate enough to spend a Saturday afternoon with the Noe Valley Small Business Guild, basically a neighborhood support group for loser businesses that shouldnt exist in the first place.

Right now I was perched uncomfortably on a folding chair in the strip mall storefront that was the headquarters of AmishMingle.com. Thats right. Someone had actually created an Internet dating service for the worlds Amish population, a religious sect that doesnt even use electricity, much less Wi-Fi.