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

challenge making him do his business. When they came back, Leland was fine for a while. Then he started shaking and feeling nauseous. He said it was just a chill. But then right before I called you, he threw up.”
    â€œWhat do you think it is?” asked Monk.
    â€œI don’t know.” Trudy shrugged helplessly. “But you know how nervous I get about his work. Judge Oberlin was poisoned and everyone thought it was just a virus. Convince Leland to go to the hospital. He won’t listen to me.”
    â€œLet me talk to him,” said Monk. He stuffed his umbrella into a huge clay pot by the door and I did the same. Before entering, he wiped his shoes on the mat, but I noticed he didn’t take them off. Hypocrite.
    â€œHey, Monk. Natalie.” The captain was on the couch infront of the blank-faced TV, wrapped in a blanket and looking miserable. “I don’t see what all the fuss is about. If I’m not feeling better by morning . . .”
    I don’t know if it was just instinct or something specific about the captain’s state. But Monk kept his distance and motioned for the rest of us to do the same. “What did you eat, Leland? Anything different from what Trudy had tonight?”
    â€œWhat are you talking about, Monk?”
    â€œYour color, your tremors, the fact that you haven’t taken a sick day in two years and seven months, plus the coincidence of both you and the judge collapsing during rainstorms.”
    â€œRainstorms? What does that mean?”
    â€œI don’t know, but I hate coincidences.”
    Trudy’s hand went to her heart. “We ate the same food. I bought a lasagna at the market. And a salad. We shared a beer from the same bottle. Do you really think . . .”
    â€œNo chewing gum or mints or mouthwash since he got home? Dessert?”
    â€œNo,” she replied.
    â€œI’m not poisoned,” growled the captain. “Trudy, honey, you worry too much.”
    All three of us ignored him. “How about visitors?” asked Monk. “Has anyone been in the house? I don’t care how innocent or friendly.”
    â€œNot for days, no,” said Trudy. “And I always lock the doors and windows. I’m very careful.”
    â€œAnd you’re okay?” I asked her. “You’re not feeling any symptoms?”
    â€œNothing.”
    â€œI have the sniffles,” said Leland. “No big deal.”
    â€œAnd how is Teddy?” asked Monk. “Your monstrous mutt of a dog. I can smell his wet fur from here. How is Teddy feeling?”
    â€œTeddy?” Stottlemeyer’s eyes went cold. “I don’t know. Teddy!” With some effort, he pulled himself up. Apparently it was okay for him to ignore any danger he might be in, but when it came to his dog . . . “I haven’t seen him since we came back. Teddy Bear. Come here, boy!”
    The dog didn’t come right away, which seemed unusual behavior, from the way Stottlemeyer reacted. “Teddy? Where are you?” He began to go from room to room in the one-level house. Then he started over. “Teddy?”
    Monk was the first to hear the whimpering. It came from under the bed in the guest room/office, soft and pitiful and steady. The captain and I stuck our heads under and saw the long-haired, medium-sized dog. The poor thing stared back at us in guilt and pain, squeezed in under the box springs, staying as far away as he could from a puddle of green vomit in the corner.
    â€œOh, my God,” said Stottlemeyer. “We gotta get him to the vet.” He reached under and began to gently pull Teddy out. “Come on, big boy.”
    â€œYou’re not going to the vet,” Trudy informed him. “You’re going to the hospital. Now.”
    â€œDid you and Teddy run into anyone during your walk?” asked Monk. “Anyone at all? Think.”
    â€œNo,” the captain said. “It was