Mr. Monk Helps Himself
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Welcome to the series of original mysteries starring Adrian Monk, the brilliant investigator who always knows when something’s out of place....
Natalie is taking a break from studying for her PI license—the last step to becoming Monk’s full partner. She sneaks off to Half Moon Bay for a retreat run by Miranda Bigley, leader of the Best Possible Me self-help program, but her plans for a relaxing weekend are disrupted when Monk tracks her down to rescue her from the “cult.” Their argument is cut short when Miranda, in full view of everyone, calmly walks to the edge of a cliff and jumps.
Even though Miranda’s death looks like suicide, Natalie is sure it's murder. But Monk brushes her off to help the SFPD solve the murder of a clown, despite his coulrophobia, aka fear of clowns. As Monk and Natalie begin their independent investigations, they quickly learn that if they want to figure out whodunit, they will have to find a way to become true partners....
An all-new story starring Adrian Monk by Edgar® Award–nominated Monk screenwriter and coexecutive producer Hy Conrad. It’s compulsive, page-turning fun.
at the peaceful retreat she called home, would have meant the most. “I can’t help wondering how Miranda visualized this moment. It may not be the most pleasant thought, but to me, it’s comforting. She knew we would be here, in this room, celebrating her life. I wonder what she would say to us.” For an awful second, I thought he was about to play a recording, with Miranda explaining everything, like the CDs that had made her famous, only this time dealing with the senseless thing she was
to Investor Bob, as agreed. He has his ten thousand shares, same as before. And I have close to $900,000 in profit. I looked at Devlin. “You’re saying they shorted Medical Mills right before the poisonings.” She grinned. “John was the borrower of record. He placed it through six different brokerage houses, just to keep it under the radar. But once I knew what I was looking for . . .” “John wound up with an eighteen-million-dollar payday, and his firm stayed in business.” Stottlemeyer
Adrian and I are a team. If we want to work on this case on our own time, you can’t stop us.” “Actually, I don’t.” Monk had said it so softly I almost didn’t hear. “You don’t?” “Like the captain said, it’s a distraction. And a cult. And I have a chance to solve four murders and show up Special Agent Grooms, which is something I like doing. It’s, like, my favorite thing.” “But we’re a team. We’re partners.” “Actually, we’re not. Not until you pass the test.” “I’ll pass the
get it. Humor. Well, that doesn’t change the facts. Your beloved cult leader—” “Stop calling her that,” I shouted into the windshield. “She has a name. It’s Miranda and she was a wonderful human being. She was more giving and caring than you’ll ever be. So don’t pretend you know her, because you don’t. You don’t have a clue. Not a clue.” Looking back on those words, I can see how harsh they sound. But at the moment, they expressed exactly how I felt and I wasn’t about to take them back.
reevaluate. Is that what you’re doing? Reevaluating?” This was a tough topic to bring up. I cared for Monk and Ellen both and wanted them each to be happy. Until now, I’d thought these goals were compatible, part of the same scenario. But maybe not. “No, I love Adrian, quirks and all. I just wish sometimes he could be a little more supportive. For example, does he have to ridicule my career every time we get together? If he could cut the ridicule down to twice a week . . .” “It was a