Monk >

INT. TIFFANY MANSION – EVENING (NIGHT 1)

The legendary Tiffany Mansion.  A pleasure palace.  A huge, sprawling, gaudy estate - the symbol of playboy-publisher Dexter Gold’s adult magazine empire.  It is - of course - our version of the famous Playboy mansion...

The Mansion is quiet.  DEXTER GOLD - the legend himself - 50-ish, smoking jacket, pipe, oozing icy charm - strolls through the house, overseeing preparations for a big party.  As always, there’s an attractive playmate - a TIFFANY GIRL - on his arm.

An ASSISTANT EDITOR steps up with TWO PHOTOS.
 

ASSISTANT EDITOR: Dex!  They’re waiting for a decision about the cover!

DEXTER (To Tiffany Girl): What do you think, darling?

TIFFANY GIRL: Um...that one.

DEXTER (amused): Heh, heh.  Which one would you pick if it was you on the cover?

TIFFANY GIRL (laughing, picking the other one): That one!

DEXTER: We’ll take this one.  And make sure there are more girls here tonight.  Last week, it was like a stag party.  A stag party - at Tiffany Mansion?  God forbid!

ASSISTANT EDITOR: So - two girls per guest?

DEXTER: Make it three.  This house is paradise on earth, remember?

Dexter notices: ELLIOT D’SOUZA, a senior executive.  Elliot D’Souza is a strong, well-built man...but is clearly out of place here; he’s conservative, all-business.

DEXTER: Elliot!  You’re early!  The party doesn’t kick in until midnight.

ELLIOT: I’m not here for the party, Dexter.

DEXTER: I knew that, Elliot.

To Tiffany Girl.

DEXTER: Amber, this is Elliot D’Souza.  He’s the Chief Financial Officer for Dharma Publishing Group.  Which means, technically, this schlub is my boss.  Hard to believe, isn’t it?

The girl nods.

DEXTER: It’s hard for me to believe, too.

ELLIOT: Dex, we have to talk.  Privately.

INT. TIFFANY MANSION, A QUIET ALCOVE – MOMENTS LATER

Elliot D’Souza and Dexter confer, privately.

ELLIOT: Dex, I made a decision.  I wanted you to hear it from me.  The magazine just isn’t paying for itself.  It’s not your fault.  The whole industry is shrinking.  It’s the internet...and videos...

DEXTER: Tiffany Mansion is more than a magazine, Elliot.  It’s a way of life!

ELLIOT: That may be true.  But this “way of life” is hemorrhaging dollars.  The corporation can’t carry you anymore – I’ve decided to pull the plug.

DEXTER: So that’s it, huh?

ELLIOT: I’m sorry – are you okay?

DEXTER: I’m not going to hit you, Elliot.  I was out of line at that meeting.  Do I have to apologize again?  Besides, look at you - you’ve been working out.  I read that profile about you - every morning, you’re pumping iron.  I’d be a fool to try that again!

ELLIOT: Dex, if there was any other way -

DEXTER shrugs: Hey.  Nothing lasts forever.  It was fun while it lasted.  Actually, I’m surprised you waited this long.

He winks.

DEXTER: Listen, Elliot, could you do me a favor - one last favor?  Don’t announce for a day or two.  This is our anniversary part.  Let me enjoy the weekend.

ELLIOT: Of course!

DEXTER: That means you can’t tell anybody.  The bastards on the Board never could keep a secret.

ELLIOT: I understand.  It can wait until Monday.

DEXTER: Are you sure you don’t want to stay?

ELLIOT: No, thank you.

DEXTER: It’s gonna be a helluva party.  You know me - I’ll be going out with a bang!

EXT.  ELLIOT’S APARTMENT BUILDING – DAWN (DAY 2)

The next morning.  Dawn.  Elliot D’Souza lives in an upscale highrise condominium...

INT. ELLIOT’S PENTHOUSE, PRIVATE GYM – SAME TIME

Inside: Elliot D’Souza lives in the penthouse apartment.  He has his own private gym.  Bikes, treadmills, step machines, etc.

Elliot D’Souza is riding an exercise bike.  His briefcase sits nearby.  He’s reviewing some papers, while he cycles...

He finishes cycling, then moves to the weight-lifting area.  During this, his PHONE rings.  There’s a SPEAKERPHONE nearby.  Elliot talks while continuing his work-out...

DEXTER (voice only over phone): Elliot?  It’s Dex.  Did I wake you?

ELLIOT: No.  I’m in the gym.

DEXTER: Of course you are.  You’re so predictable.

ELLIOT: How was the party?

DEXTER: It must’ve been great - I don’t remember a thing!  Heh, heh.  I was wondering if you reconsidered your decision?

ELLIOT: I’m afraid not, Dexter.

ELLIOT reclines on the bench.  He adjusts the weights on the bar and begins to BENCH PRESS, exerting while he talks...

DEXTER: I had a thought.  A brainstorm!  What about just keeping the Mansion open?  We could rent it out -

ELLIOT: Dex - Dex, don’t even ask.  The place is drowning in red ink.  We’re going to have to sell it.

DEXTER: Is that your final decision?

ELLIOT: I’m afraid so.

DEXTER: Okay.  It’s your funeral.

They hang up.  Elliot is lifting a metal weight, again and again.  Then - suddenly - the barbell SLAMS DOWN on his neck!

EXTREME CLOSE UP - Elliot D’Souza - HIS FACE AND HIS LEGS

Elliot is being CHOKED TO DEATH!  WE’RE TOO CLOSE TO SEE WHO - OR WHAT - HE’S GRAPPLING WITH!  He GASPS!  He WRITHES!  His legs kick and twist!  His face turns blue.  Finally...he goes limp.  He’s dead.

END OF TEASER

OPENING CREDITS

ACT ONE

INT. MONK’S APARTMENT, LIVING ROOM – DAY (DAY 3)

In Monk’s apartment.  MONK is in a chair, wearing an oversize bib.  SHARONA is giving him a haircut.

There’s newspaper spread out on the floor.  Not just around Monk - but it covers his entire apartment.  Newspaper everywhere.

MONK: Not too much off the top!  Just an eighth of an inch!

SHARONA (as she snips): I know!  I know!

MONK: I want to look rugged.  But not too macho.

SHARONA: Don’t worry.  You won’t look too macho.  You think you put down enough paper?  I can still see a little rug in the living room.  What if there’s a breeze and a strand of hair falls on it?

MONK: Very funny.

Monk takes out a wooden 12 inch ruler, and measures a strand of hair that Sharona just cut.

MONK: It’s a little long!

SHARONA: Oh shut up!  (Snipping) You know, this wasn’t in my job description.  What happened to your regular barber?

MONK: I don’t know!  Every time I go there, it’s closed.

SHARONA: I can’t imagine why!

MONK: The last time I went, I thought I saw him in the back room.  But it couldn’t have been him.

Monk takes out the ruler again, and measures another piece of hair.

MONK: You’re still long.  Look - it’s three 16ths.

Sharona - exasperated - grabs the wooden ruler from him and SNAPS it in two.

SHARONA: Sorry.  My hand slipped.

MONK (grasping the already-measured hair): It’s okay.  I can measure the other hair against this one.

Sharona grabs the strand of hair from Monk and tosses it away.

SHARONA: Adrian, these are very sharp scissors.  Don’t piss me off!

During this, the PHONE RINGS.  Sharona answers.

SHARONA (into phone): Adrian Monk’s office...uh-huh...could you hold on?

To Monk, covering the phone.

SHARONA: It’s a job!  She wants to meet us tomorrow at 10 o’clock.

MONK: Sorry.  I can’t do it.  It’s laundry day.

SHARONA (into phone): We’ll be there.

INT. ELLIOT’S APARTMENT BUILDING, LOBBY – LATER (DAY 4)

D’Souza’s condo building.  In the lobby.  Monk and Sharona are met by Elliot D’Souza’s personal assistant - MISS LUDEN - a very nervous, very distraught woman.

MISS LUDEN (gushing, nervously): Mr. Monk.  Thank you!  Thank you for coming!  And you must be Sharona.  I’m Dianne Luden.

They shake hands.  Sharona - as always - hands Monk a wipe.

MISS LUDEN: Oh - was I not supposed to shake hands?  You’re the first private detective I’ve ever met.

SHARONA: It’s not you.  It’s him!

MISS LUDEN (remembering): Oh that’s right.  Captain Stottlemeyer said if he does something strange, it’s not me, it’s him.

MONK: You’ve spoken to Captain Stottlemeyer?

MISS LUDEN: Yes.  He gave me your name.  He thought you might be able to help.  Would you like to go upstairs?  That’s where I found him.

SHARONA: Found who?

MISS LUDEN: My boss.  Elliot D’Souza.  I was his personal assistant.

Monk and Sharona cross towards the elevators.  Miss Luden indicates a separate, private elevator.

MISS LUDEN: Oh.  We use this one.  It’s a private elevator.  He lived in the penthouse...

INT. ELLIOT’S PENTHOUSE – MOMENTS LATER

In Elliot D’Souza’s magnificent penthouse.  The room has a window, with a gorgeous view of San Francisco.

MISS LUDEN: I found him Sunday morning, when I arrived, at about 8:30.  He was in there...in his private gym.

SHARONA: I heard about this, on the radio.  They said he had a heart attack.

MISS LUDEN: That’s what they thought, at first.  But they did an autopsy.  There was no heart attack.  He was lifting an 80 pound barbell.  They think it must’ve slipped, and crushed his windpipe.

But Monk isn’t listening.  He’s at the window, distracted by something.  Sharona steps up.

SHARONA: Are you okay?

MONK: That sign.  In front of the Holiday Inn.  Welcome Kiwanis Club.  They misspelled “Kiwanis”.

SHARONA (annoyed): You mean that sign five blocks away?  You want me to go down there and have them fix it?

MONK: No!  We could call them...

Sharona - exasperated - pulls down the window shade (or curtain).

SHARONA: There.  The sign is fixed. (Low) Adrian.  We’re on a job.

Monk is still distracted; now, by the window shade.  It’s not quite even. He starts to fix it.

SHARONA: Adrian!

MONK (recovering): Miss Luden, why exactly did you call?

MISS LUDEN: I know it sounds crazy, Mr. Monk.  It’s hard for me to even say the words...but I think he was murdered.

SHARONA: Why do you say that?

MISS LUDEN: Two weeks ago, Mr. D’Souza said, if anything ever happened to him - even if it looked like an accident - it’s not an accident.

MONK: Was he afraid of someone?

MISS LUDEN: He certainly was.  Kawalchic.  Dexter Kawalchic.  He’s a publisher who runs one of Elliot’s magazines.  Elliot was thinking of closing him down.  Kawalchic threatened him.  He actually hit him two weeks ago.  Mr. Kawalchic has a clause in his contract: if Elliot retires or dies, he has an option on any stocks that Elliot owned.  So now, Kawalchic has controlling interest in the company.

During all this, Monk keeps trying to fix the uneven window curtain.  Sharona repeatedly pulls him away.

MONK (re-focusing): Yes.  That’s certainly a motive.

Miss Luden indicates an OFFICIAL DOCUMENT.

MISS LUDEN: Last night, I was going through some papers.  I found this!

Monk studies the document.

MONK: “The Nevada Gaming Commission”?

MISS LUDEN: It’s an application for a casino license.  Kawalchic’s secretary must have sent us a copy by mistake.  Elliot was adamantly against this - he never would have approved it.

MONK: It’s dated two weeks ago.  So...you think this Mr. Kawalchic knew Elliot wouldn’t be around much longer?

INT. ELLIOT’S PENTHOUSE, PRIVATE GYM – MOMENTS LATER

Miss Luden leads them into Elliot’s private gym.

The gym is slightly disarrayed: some light-weight BARBELLS have fallen from their rack...there’s a METAL DESK against the wall, which is slightly askew...on the desk: a metallic DESK TOY has tipped over...a few metal PENs are no longer in their holder; they’re on the desk, all pointing toward the corner of the room...a STAPLER is also pointing toward the same corner...

MISS LUDEN: He was right over there.  It was horrible.  The barbell was still on his neck.

Monk looks around.  He goes into his “Monk trance”.

MONK: Is this exactly how the room was, when you found him?

MISS LUDEN: Yes sir.  I wouldn’t let the medics touch a thing.

MONK: Good.  He was alone?  And the door was locked?

MISS LUDEN: That’s right.

MONK: From the inside?

MISS LUDEN: That’s right.

Monk notices: a clock on the wall.

MONK: The clock is fast.  Two hours and ten minutes.

MISS LUDEN: That’s odd!  I set it myself, last week.

MONK (looking around): There’s something strange about this room...

SHARONA: What?

MONK: I don’t know.  I can’t put my finger on it.  Something...

Miss Luden shows them Elliot’s briefcase.  She takes out a COMPUTER DISC, which is labeled “Rec to Board”.

MISS LUDEN: His briefcase was on the floor.  This was in there.  “Rec to Board”.  It was his final recommendation.

SHARONA: What did it say?

MISS LUDEN: I don’t know.  When I tried to open it, it was blank.  Like somebody erased it.

MONK: They erased the disc...then put it back?  Why would they do that?

Monk notices a pile of TIFFANY MAGAZINES, on a shelf.  He reacts, embarrassed.

MONK: Interesting choice of magazines.

MISS LUDEN: Elliot hated that magazine.  But he had to read it.

SHARONA: Why’s that?

MISS LUDEN: That’s the magazine I was talking about - the one Dexter Kawalchic publishes.

SHARONA: Dexter Kawalchic is Dexter Gold?

MONK: The Dexter Gold?  With the...naked...?

MISS LUDEN: Naked girls?  Yes.  Kawalchic was his legal name.  He changed it after the magazine took off.

Monk leafs through a Tiffany Magazine.  He sees a picture.  He reacts...horrified, but transfixed.  But horrified.  But transfixed.

MONK (Low, deep groaning): Ohhh.  Ohhh.  Ohhh.

MISS LUDEN: Are you a religious man, Mr. Monk?

SHARONA: He is now!

MONK (continues groaning): Ohhh.  Ohhh.  Ohhh.

Monk manages to close the girlie magazine.  He turns to Sharona.

MONK (anxiously): Wipe - wipe - wipe!

Sharona hands Monk a wipe.  He cleans his hands, obsessively.

MONK (looking around): There’s something strange about this room.  Something’s wrong...

INT. POLICE HQ, CAPT. STOTTLEMEYER’S OFFICE – DAY

Later that day.  CAPT. STOTTLEMEYER is in his office.  LT. DISHER enters, excitedly.

LT. DISHER: He’s here!

Capt. Stottlemeyer chuckles.  They’re about to play a prank on Monk.  There’s a RUBIK’S CUBE on the desk.  Capt. Stottlemeyer removes...and switches...two of the little colored stickers.

CAPT. STOTTLEMEYER: Okay.  Don’t look at it.  Just let him pick it up by himself.

DISHER: It’s impossible, right?

STOTTLEMEYER: Heh, heh.  It’ll drive him nuts!

Stottlemeyer places the “rigged” Cube in plain sight.  The two cops chuckle, like naughty schoolboys.  Monk and Sharona enter.

MONK: Captain.

SHARONA: Lieutenant.

DISHER: Miss Fleming.

MONK: I’m working on the Elliot D’Souza case.  I’d like to take a look at the official file.

STOTTLEMEYER: She called you?  That assistant...?

SHARONA: Dianne Luden.

STOTTLEMEYER: Luden.  Right.  I gave her your name.  I thought you’d convince her she was crazy.

MONK: Actually, I think she might be onto something.

During all this, Stottlemeyer and Disher exhange mischievous glances: they’re waiting for Monk to notice the rigged cube.

STOTTLEMEYER: Monk, Randy and I took that call ourselves.  There is no D’Souza case.  It was an accident.  The barbell slipped.  It crushed his trachea.

DISHER: He was alone in his apartment.  On the 35 th floor.

MONK: I know.

DISHER: There was only one way up: a private elevator.  We talked to the doorman.  Nobody else used it all night.

MONK: I know.

STOTTLEMEYER: The apartment was locked from the inside.

MONK: I know.

STOTTLEMEYER: I’m going to say that again: locked from the inside.

Monk finally notices the “rigged” cube.  Without moving, Monk points to it from across the room.

MONK: Excuse me, Captain.  Is that your Rubik’s Cube?

STOTTLEMEYER (suppressing a chuckle): Yeah.  You want to try it?

MONK: No.  I think somebody tampered with it.  Two of the little dots have been switched.  I can see it from here.  Nobody could solve it now.  Probably just some jackass trying to be funny.

Capt. Stottlemeyer and Lt. Disher exchange a disappointed sigh.  Stottlemeyer tosses the Rubik’s Cube away.

STOTTLEMEYER (deflated): Thank you, Monk.

SHARONA: So...will you be cooperating on this or not?

STOTTLEMEYER: If you two want to go tilting at windmills, fine.  But this time, Monk, you’re on your own.  Send us a postcard.

MONK: I don’t think they sell postcards.

STOTTLEMEYER: Sell them where?

MONK: The Tiffany Mansion.  That’s our first stop.  We have an appointment.

Capt. Stottlemeyer and Disher - both red-blooded males - react.  Lt. Disher - we will soon learn - is obsessed with Tiffany Magazine.

DISHER (stunned, excited): Tiffany Mansion?  You...have an appointment?

SHARONA: Elliot D’Souza controlled the magazine.  He was about to pull the plug on Dexter Gold.  We think Gold might be involved.

DISHER: You’re going inside?  Tiffany Mansion?

SHARONA: Yes we’re going inside.  I don’t think Dexter Gold plans to talk to us by the curb.

DISHER (to Capt. Stottlemeyer): Have you ever been?

STOTTLEMEYER: I almost went once.  Karen found out about it...

DISHER: Red Roof Inn, sir?

STOTTLEMEYER (nods, sighs): Red Roof Inn.  This was before they built the new lobby.

DISHER (hinting): Uh, Captain...I think Monk might be right about this.  Maybe we should tag along.

STOTTLEMEYER: Yes.  I think you’re right, Lieutenant.  I wouldn’t want to overlook anything.

SHARONA (disgusted): Oh grow up!

EXT.  TIFFANY MANSION, FRONT GATE – DAY

Later.  They’re all in Capt. Stottlemeyer’s sedan.

The sedan pulls up to the ornate, oversize gate of Tiffany Mansion.  Stottlemeyer rolls down his window, and presses the INTERCOM.

SEXY GIRL’S VOICE: Hello.  Welcome to Tiffany Mansion.

STOTTLEMEYER: This is Capt. Stottlemeyer.  I’m here with Adrian Monk.  We have an appointment.

The huge gate - the gate to paradise - swings open.  TWO SEXY GIRLS are playing on the lawn.  As the sedan enters, we HEAR Monk’s familiar deep...sad...prudish groan.

MONK (voice-only): Ohhhh.  Ohhhh.

END OF ACT ONE

ACT TWO

INT. TIFFANY MANSION, ENTRANCE HALL – MOMENTS LATER

Capt. Stottlemeyer is on a cell phone.  He’s lying to his wife.

STOTTLEMEYER (into phone): Karen, I’m sorry.  I can’t meet you for lunch.  Something came up.  I’m in Chinatown.  There was a triple homicide.  (A giggling girl runs past) I know, honey.  I have the worst job in the world.

A gorgeous Tiffany Girl approaches.  Lt. Disher recognizes her.

DISHER (excited): Bethany Daniels!  She was May’s Tiffany Girl of the Month.  Not this May.  I mean last May.

BETHANY steps up.  Monk - embarrassed - averts his eyes.  He looks up - he looks left - anywhere but at her.

BETHANY: Hi!  I’m Bethany!  Dexter will be right down.  He’s upstairs, tinkering in his workshop, as always.  I think he’s making a nuclear bomb or something.  He said to make yourself comfortable.  (Pointing) The game room is over there.  The bar’s in there.  If you feel like unwinding, there’s an indoor pool at the end of the hall.

MONK (still looking away): We didn’t bring our suits.

DISHER: He’s new here!

BETHANY: I thought so.  Well, I’ll see you around!

Bethany runs off.

SHARONA: She’s gone, Adrian.  You can look now.

Monk notices: some PHOTOGRAPHS on the wall, of Dex, posing with models or celebrities.  And: a framed MAGAZINE COVER from the early 70's.  It’s an electronic magazine, called POPULAR CIRCUITRY.  There’s a pretty model on the cover, surrounded by giant circuit boards.  A banner says “Miss Transistor”.

MONK: What’s this?

DISHER: That’s how Dexter got started.  He’s a former geek.  That was his magazine.  He almost went bankrupt.  Then one day he put Miss Transistor on the cover - and voila!

MONK: Voila?

DISHER: He changed the name of the magazine, dropped all the electronics stuff, and the rest is history.

SHARONA: Exploiting women - you call that history?

DISHER: It’s...a kind of history.

Then...Dexter Gold - as always, smoking his trademark pipe - appears with TWO TIFFANY GIRLS on his arm.

DEXTER: Sorry to keep you.  Hello.  I’m Dexter Gold.  I hope you’re not from the vice squad.  Heh, heh.

STOTTLEMEYER: No sir.  We’re from homicide.  Captain Stottlemeyer.  Lt. Disher.  Adrian Monk.  And Sharona Fleming.

Dexter is attracted to Sharona.  But she’s immune to his charms, in fact, she’s revolted by him.

DEXTER: Sharona.  Beautiful name.  I think it’s from the Bible.

SHARONA: Have you read the Bible?

DEXTER: Not lately.  Heh, heh.  Can I get you gentlemen anything...or anyone?

MONK: Actually, we’re here to talk about Elliot D’Souza.

DEXTER: Yes.  It’s heartbreaking.  I still can’t believe it.

There’s a metallic STATUETTE - of a female form - on a shelf.  Monk touches it.

DEXTER: Please!  Don’t touch that!  That’s an original Giacometti.  It’s worth a hundred thousand dollars.

MONK (resuming): Mr. Gold, where were you on Sunday morning?

DEXTER: I’ll show you!

INT. TIFFANY MANSION, DEXTER’S BEDROOM – MOMENTS LATER

Moments later.  Upstairs.  They’re in Dexter’s fabulous bedroom (modeled after Hugh Hefner’s famous boudoir).  The room features a HUGE, ROUND ROTATING BED...and a MIRROR ON THE CEILING.

Disher and Stottlemeyer confer...

DISHER: Oh my God!  We’re in his bedroom!  Pinch me!

STOTTLEMEYER: No!

DISHER: I didn’t mean, literally - “pinch me!”!

STOTTLEMEYER: Randy, we’re finished talking about pinch me.

DEXTER: You were asking about Sunday.  I was right here, in bed, all morning.

MONK: You were alone?

Dexter and his fan, Disher, both chuckle at the question.

DEXTER: No, Mr. Monk.  I had company.  Let’s see...Saturday night?  Sabra?  No - she was Monday.  Gwen?  No...that was Friday...Brianna?  No - she was also Friday.  Oh - I remember -
(Into an INTERCOM).  Could you ask Amber to come upstairs?

MONK: Mr. Gold, we understand that Elliot D’Souza was planning to shut down your magazine.

DEXTER: That’s not true.  He was considering it.  But the last time we spoke, he said he was still undecided.

SHARONA (accusingly): But now, you’re safe.  You control it all.

DEXTER: That’s true.

During this, Disher explores the room.  He sits on the famous round bed.  He presses a button.  The bed begins to rotate.

SHARONA (to Disher disapprovingly): How old are you?

Monk notices the mirror above the big bed.

MONK (low to Sharona): Sharona, check it out.  A mirror!  What’s that for?

SHARONA (unwilling to explain): I wouldn’t know.

MONK: Probably to check his bald spot.

SHARONA (reassuring him): That’s right, Adrian.  It’s to check his bald spot.

Another Tiffany Girl - AMBER - enters.  Amber, we’ll soon learn, is more than just a pretty face; she’s stronger and sharper than anyone gives her credit for.

AMBER (playfully): You rang?

DEXTER: Gentlemen, this is Amber Post, our Tiffany Girl of the Month.  And - maybe - our Tiffany Girl of the Year.  We’ll find out tomorrow night.  (To Amber) Amber, darling.  These gentlemen are from the police.  They’re wondering where I was on Saturday night.

AMBER: You want me to go into detail?

MONK (quickly): No!  No detail!  Just the big vague general picture.

Amber’s response feels a little stiff...a little rehearsed.

AMBER: Dexter and I were here.  In bed.  All morning.  I remember we woke up and watched the sun rise together.  We didn’t even get out of bed until noon -

DEXTER: Which is when I got the phone call about Elliot.  (To Amber) Oh.  By the way, darling.  I found this under your pillow.

Dexter hands Amber an EARRING.

AMBER: Oh.  Thank you.  I’ve been looking for that.

MONK: Excuse me.  You said you saw the sun rise?  But that’s the only window...and it faces west.

Amber tenses.  She glances, nervously, at Dexter.

MONK: And those aren’t your earrings, ma’am.  They’re for pierced ears.  And yours aren’t.

Captain Stottlemeyer considers this.  For the first time, he eyes Dexter, suspiciously.

DEXTER: You’re a very clever man, Mr. Monk.  I guess Amber and I are a little confused.  Elliot’s death must have me a little rattled.

Monk indicates a PILL BOX, with different compartments for each day of the week.  The pills for “Sunday” are still there.

MONK: I guess you were so rattled you forgot to take your pills on Sunday.

Monk stares at Dexter, accusingly.  A tense beat.  Then - a SECRETARY sticks her head in.

SECRETARY: Dex?  David Hasselhoff just called.  He can’t play golf today.

DEXTER: Oh.  There goes our foursome.

DISHER (eagerly): I play golf!

STOTTLEMEYER: Randy, we’re on duty!

Disher sighs, disappointed.

MONK: I’m free!

DEXTER: Do you play golf, Mr. Monk?

MONK (admitting, sheepishly): No.

DEXTER (grins, relieved): Then you can’t play, can you?

Monk turns to Sharona.

MONK: You play, don’t you?

SHARONA: Me?

Mon gestures: “You have to say yes!” Sharona sighs.

SHARONA: Sure.  I play.

Dexter glances around the room - and at Capt. Stottlemeyer - nervously.  He doesn’t want to appear suspicious.  He forces a smile.

DEXTER: Good.  Perfect.  The golf course is right out back.  We’ll meet you there.

EXT. TIFFANY MANSION, GOLF COURSE – LATER

Later.  There’s a 9-hole golf course on the grounds behind the mansion.

Dex is there, with two friends.  Sharona steps up, wearing a fetching golfing outfit.

DEXTER: Ah, Sharona!  I thought that was your size.  It looks great on you.  I won’t be able to concentrate on the ball.  Heh, heh.

Dex indicates a FAMOUS PROFESSIONAL GOLFER, who will be named later.

DEXTER: Sharona Fleming, this is (FAMOUS GOLFER).  I let him stay and the Mansion - and in exchange, he promises not to beat me too badly today.