Mr. Monk Goes to Germany Lee Goldberg (my reading book .txt) 📖

shoes and then hid his body in the woods.

“The next morning, Dr. Rahner went for a jog,” Monk said. “But what he really did was move the corpse from hidingand onto the trail, so it would appear that Leupolz died of a heart attack while hiking.”

There was a long moment of silence while Stoffmacher and Geshir digested Monk’s story.

“Or Vigg committed suicide and Leupolz died of a heart attack while hiking,” Geshir said.

“The evidence says otherwise,” Monk said.

“What evidence?” Stoffmacher asked.

“The bullet hole in Vigg’s couch, the hidden bullet hole in the wall between the two apartments, and the locked door in Vigg’s apartment, for starters,” Monk said, and then motioned to the Baggies on the table. “There’s also the feathers, the burned notes, the missing laptop, and Leupolz’s clean shoes.”

“I could argue that Vigg committed suicide over the loss of his job and his girlfriend, and that he fired the bullet into the couch as a test shot,” Stoffmacher said. “The hole in the wall was covered because Vigg used that to secretly observe the previous tenant of the adjacent apartment.”

“Who was one hot babe,” Geshir said, seeming to enjoy the words. “She was a stewardess for Lufthansa. I bet she walked around her apartment naked and took lots of lovers and that’s why he watched.”

“Thank you, Kommissar, for that very important insight into Axel Vigg’s motivations,” Stoffmacher said.

“I believe the Americans call it ‘profiling,’ ” Geshir said. “The detectives who do it are known as ‘mind-hunters.’ ”

“You’ve lost your mind,” Stoffmacher said.

“That’s not the meaning in English,” Geshir said.

“It’s what I mean,” Stoffmacher said, turning back to us. “We’ve learned that Leupolz was a struggling writer who couldn’t hold a job and was barely scraping by on freelance assignments. He probably burned his notes and threw out his laptop in frustration. We’ll never know for sure, because he went jogging in the hills and died of a heart attack.”

“How do you explain the feathers?” I asked.

Stoffmacher shrugged. “Maybe he tore up a pillow in anger. It doesn’t matter.”

“And what about his clean shoes?”

“There was a light drizzle in the morning,” Stoffmacher said. “Perhaps that washed the dirt away.”

Monk spoke up. “Did you dredge the pond?”

“No, but even if we did and found the laptop and feathers, it wouldn’t prove your theory,” Stoffmacher said. “From the moment you arrived in Lohr, you have been intent on twisting everything you see into evidence of murder or a conspiracy about you.”

“The evidence speaks for itself,” Monk said.

“All right, let’s say that you’re right and everything happened the way you say it did,” Stoffmacher said. “What proof do you have that Dr. Rahner is responsible for the deaths of Bruno Leupolz and Axel Vigg?”

“The shoelaces.” Monk picked up the bag containing Leupolz’s running shoes. “These are tied with a Norwegian Reef Knot. But the rest of Leupolz’s shoes are tied with a Granny Knot.”

“So what?” Geshir said.

“Dr. Rahner ties his shoes with a Norwegian Reef Knot,” Monk said. “His bows are in the exact same proportion as these. It’s as good as a fingerprint.”

“Not in Germany,” Stoffmacher said.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Mr. Monk and the Friendly Skies

It was obvious that the Lohr police were not going to rush out and arrest Dr. Rahner for murder and, to be honest, I didn’t blame them. I felt Dr. Rahner was guilty, but that belief was based more on gut instinct than evidence.

Monk left the police station and headed straight for our car. He was so determined to nail Dr. Rahner that he forgot that he was walking on a cobblestone street and didn’t hop from stone to stone. Either Monk was completely caught up in his quest or he was suicidal.

“Stoffmacher is going to call Dr. Rahner and let him know that we are on to him,” Monk said.

“I think Dr. Rahner might have figured that out for himself when you told him that he was a murderer and that you were going to get him.”

“But I didn’t tell him our theory about the crime or the evidence we have to support it,” Monk said. “Stoffmacher will. Dr. Rahner will start retracing his steps, cleaning up any evidence he might have left behind that we don’t already know about. Time is of the essence.”

“What can we do?”

“We have to go to Berlin right away and talk to Leupolz’s editor at Im Fadenkreuz,” Monk said. “We need to know what Leupolz was working on.”

I’d read about Berlin in my guidebooks and I was excited about going there, if only for an afternoon, but I wasn’t sure Monk realized how far away it was.

“Berlin isn’t around the corner,” I said. “It’s at least a five-hour drive.”

“And by plane?”

“Maybe an hour or so,” I said.

“Book us a flight today,” Monk said.

I unlocked the car and we got inside. The prospect of going on even a short flight with Monk or his drugged, obnoxious alter ego the Monkster didn’t wow me.

“If you take your pill, the flight will go easy for you,” I said, “but how effective will you be at detecting once we land?”

“Totally ineffective,” Monk said. “Which is why I’ve decided not to take the drug for this trip.”

“What about your fear of flying? If you freak out on the plane, you could be the one who ends up in jail, not Dr. Rahner.”

“I’ll just have to draw on my vast untapped reserves of inner strength.”

I gave him a look. “What have you been saving them for?”