Mr. Monk Goes to Germany by Lee Goldberg (general ebook reader .TXT) 📕

were in one car, Geshir and Stoffmacher in the other.

Stoffmacher and Geshir got out of their car and approached us.

“I understand that you discovered a corpse?” Stoffmacher said.

I nodded.

“Are you sure?” Geshir asked. “Maybe he was just napping.”

“I know a dead body when I see one.” I took out my map and pointed to the spot. “He’s right here, on the trail beside a shallow pond. You can’t miss it.”

“Why don’t you show us?” Stoffmacher said.

I started for the car with the two detectives but then noticed that Monk wasn’t joining us. I looked back to see him still standing on the bridge.

“Aren’t you coming?” I asked.

“I can’t abandon my post,” Monk said.

“What post?” Stoffmacher said.

“He’s standing watch,” I said, “making sure Dr. Rahner doesn’t leave the hotel.”

Stoffmacher motioned to the police car with the two officers inside. “That’s why they are here. I’m locking this area down. Nobody will come or go without my authorization.”

“Who is watching the trails?” Monk asked.

“No one. I don’t have enough men for that,” Stoffmacher said. “But I will station an officer at the hotel to make sure that nobody leaves the property.”

“But the building has several entrances and exits,” Monk said.

“And there are security cameras at all of them, which my officer can monitor from his position in the lobby,” Stoffmacher said. “Satisfied?”

“I can live with that,” Monk said.

“I’m so relieved,” Stoffmacher said.

Geshir drove the four of us up to the hotel parking lot. We got out of the car, found the trailhead, and started walking.

“Be careful,” Monk said. “There’s nature everywhere.”

He sank his head into his shoulders and drew his arms in as close to his body as he could so he wouldn’t brush against anything as he stepped gingerly down the trail.

“I understand that you don’t believe in coincidences,” Stoffmacher said. “So perhaps you can explain why our first homicide in five years happened on the day that you arrived.”

“Bad luck,” Monk said.

“And then when someone goes missing who you presume is dead, it happens to be your assistant who stumbles on the body and proves you right.”

“Worse luck,” I said.

“Attention, more nature,” Monk cried out. “Take evasive action!”

“Why?” Geshir said. “There’s nothing that can hurt us.”

“Oh really?” Monk pointed to something in the dirt along the edge of the trail. “What do you call that?”

“Rabbit droppings,” Geshir said.

“Perhaps now you won’t be so cavalier about our safety,” Monk said and then pointed to a low-lying branch. “Leaf alert! Leaf alert!”

Monk ducked far lower than necessary to avoid the leaves and then looked back as if he was afraid they might give chase.

Stoffmacher turned to me. “Isn’t ‘bad luck’ just another way of saying ‘coincidence’?”

“Not really,” I said. “Maybe it is in German.”

I turned my head away, as if my attention was caught by something, but really I didn’t want him to detect the lie all over my face. I need not have bothered. At that same moment Monk let out an agonized shriek and started hopping around on one foot, which got everyone’s attention.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Please, God, get it out.” Monk grabbed Geshir for support and lifted up his foot to me. “Hurry.”

I squatted and examined the bottom of his shoe, expecting to see his foot impaled on a nail or a railroad spike. But there wasn’t even a thorn.

“I don’t see anything,” I said.

Stoffmacher leaned down next to me. “Neither do I.”

“Are you both blind?” Monk shrieked. “It’s right in the middle of my foot!”

I squinted and made out a pebble only slightly larger than a grain of sand stuck in one of the treads of his shoe.

“You mean that tiny pebble?” I said and used my fingernail to flick it out.

Monk sagged with relief. “Thank you.”

Stoffmacher regarded Monk in disbelief. “You could feel that?”

“If someone plucked your eyeball out with a fork, would you feel that?” Monk said.

“Of course I would.”

“Then don’t ask stupid questions,” Monk said and began limping along. “How much farther is this body?”

“Not far,” I said.

“Good,” Monk said. “Because if we have to go much farther, the four of us could end up just like him.”

“We could step on rabbit droppings and die,” Geshir said with a grin.

“If I step on rabbit droppings, don’t wait for nature to take its merciless course,” Monk said. “Just shoot me.”

Stoffmacher leaned towards me and whispered, “I wouldn’t take your job for all the money in the world.”

“And I get paid considerably less than that,” I said.

“Then why do you do it?” he asked.

“To visit exotic places,” I said.

That’s when we began to smell the body. We came upon the actual corpse a few moments later. Monk saw it first and held out his arms to stop us from going farther. His hand brushed a leaf and he yanked it back as if it had been burned.

“Wipe!” Monk motioned to me frantically. I fished a wipe out of my purse and gave it to him.

He cleaned his hands, gave me the used wipe, and took two cautious steps forward. Stoffmacher slipped on rubber gloves and asked Geshir to call the coroner and the forensic unit. Geshir nodded, took out his cell phone, and made the call.

Monk cocked his head and held his hands out in front of him, as if feeling for heat rising off the ground as