Mr. Monk in Outer Space (9 page)
Read Mr. Monk in Outer Space Online
Authors: Lee Goldberg
“Can’t you test everyone attending the convention for gunshot residue on their hands and clothing?” I asked.
“First I’d have to find a judge insane enough to give me a warrant. But even if I could, for all we know the killer changed out of his getup and slipped away before we got here.”
“Oh,” I said, and then I had another idea. “Couldn’t you trace him by checking the places that sell Snork noses, pointed ears, and Confederation uniforms?”
“There must be fifty vendors in the dealers’ room of the convention alone who sell the stuff, as well as countless merchants on the Internet,” Stottlemeyer said. “That’s not even counting the people who create their own makeup and costumes. And I doubt most of those people keep detailed sales records on every single purchase. We don’t even know when the shooter bought the stuff. Was it today? Last week? Twenty years ago?”
“Oh,” I said.
“As you can see, Natalie, this is demanding work best left to professionals,” Disher said. “We have the experience, resources, and old-fashioned know-how to get the job done.”
Disher looked at me, then at Monk, then back to the captain.
“In most cases. I’d say between half and two thirds of the time,” Disher said. “More or less.”
Stottlemeyer sighed wearily and looked at me. “Now do you see my problem?”
I did. And I could also see that it was about to become my problem, too.
Morris Hibler, the organizer of the convention, would have been a reasonably attractive man if not for the purple
Beyond Earth
uniform, the pointed ears, and the elephant trunk dangling from his nose.
Beyond Earth
uniform, the pointed ears, and the elephant trunk dangling from his nose.
Stottlemeyer, Monk, and I were talking with him in his Airporter Motor Inn suite, where he was drinking a can of 7-Up and awaiting the results of the diphenylamine swab tests for gunpowder residue that he’d graciously allowed a CSI technician to perform on his hands and clothing. Disher was still outside, taking witness statements.
“Conrad Stipe’s murder is a tragedy of interstellar proportions for fandom,” Hibler said. “The fact that it was committed by a Confederation officer is unthinkable.”
“A Confederation officer?” Stottlemeyer asked.
“The
Discovery
is a Piller-class Confederation starship, ” Hibler said. “Every member of the crew has sworn an oath to respect all life in whatever form it takes. This heinous act is a gross violation of the Cosmic Commandments of Interplanetary Relations. It just sickens me.”
Discovery
is a Piller-class Confederation starship, ” Hibler said. “Every member of the crew has sworn an oath to respect all life in whatever form it takes. This heinous act is a gross violation of the Cosmic Commandments of Interplanetary Relations. It just sickens me.”
“You should have another 7-Up,” Monk said. “You’ll feel better.”
“No thanks,” Hibler said. “I’m still working on this one.”
“What was Stipe doing here?” Stottlemeyer asked.
“He was our guest of honor, of course. He was going to inaugurate the con, do a Q&A with the stars, and screen some of the classic episodes.”
“Do you have any idea what he was doing at the Belmont Hotel this morning?” Stottlemeyer asked.
Hibler nodded his head. “He was staying there. Stipe demanded four-star accommodations. We couldn’t afford to rent convention space there and they wouldn’t have us even if we could. They’re sci-fi bigots. They don’t want our kind on their premises.”
“Who knew when he was going to be showing up here?”
“Just about everyone,” Hibler said, taking another sip of his drink. “He does six or seven of these cons a year.”
Monk rolled his shoulders and tipped his head towards the 7-Up. “You’re required to drink those in pairs.”
“No, you’re not,” Hibler said.
“Yes, you are. They’re like socks,” Monk said. “Only carbonated.”
I’m sure that made sense to Monk in some way, but not to any of the rest of us. I pressed on.
“The show has been off the air for thirty years,” I said. “You’d think Stipe would have gotten sick of answering the same questions over and over.”
“Do you think the pope gets tired of discussing the Bible?” Hibler said.
“You’re comparing
Beyond Earth
to the Bible?” Stottlemeyer said.
Beyond Earth
to the Bible?” Stottlemeyer said.
“What I’m saying is that it’s like the Bible,” Hibler said. “The more you delve into it, the deeper your understanding and appreciation becomes for the history, the values, and the enduring life lessons that it teaches.”
“If you read the front of the can,” Monk said, “you’d know you’re supposed to have two at once. It’s like the Bible, too. Only on a can. You need to follow it religiously.”
“All it says is ‘7-Up,’ ” Hibler said.
“The dash means ‘and,’ as in ‘and up to fourteen,’ ” Monk said. “It means you’re supposed to go up to another can.”
“No, it doesn’t.” Hibler shook his head, which made his elephant trunk swing.
“It’s common sense,” Monk said.
Stottlemeyer began to rub his forehead. The whole room shook as a plane passed over us.
“You’re being ridiculous,” Hibler yelled.
“Me?
Me?
” Monk yelled back. “Have you taken a look at yourself lately?”
Me?
” Monk yelled back. “Have you taken a look at yourself lately?”
Some more things were said back and forth between the two men that were, mercifully, drowned out by the plane. When the roar was over, Stottlemeyer spoke up first, silencing them both.
“Enough about the drinks, Monk. We’re conducting a homicide investigation here,” he said. “Let’s stay focused on the facts.”
“The fact is that the rest of us live in the real world,” Monk said. “Where a man has been murdered, rational human beings don’t wear pointy ears, and
seven plus seven equals fourteen
!”
seven plus seven equals fourteen
!”
“I’m not wearing pointed ears,” Hibler said. “These
are
my ears.”
are
my ears.”
We stared at him. That was a conversation stopper.
“They are?” I asked.
“I had them surgically enhanced,” Hibler said.
“Why?” I asked.
“The erotic power,” he said. “Surely you feel it.”
I was feeling something, but it wasn’t attraction. Quite the opposite, actually.
“What about the elephant trunk?” Monk asked. “Is that part of you, too?”
“Only in the emotional and spiritual sense. It’s a prosthetic,” Hibler said. “Made from the original mold they used on the show. But I follow Snork’s example in life.”
Stottlemeyer cleared his throat. “It must have cost you a lot of money to put Stipe up at the Belmont. Why bother inviting him at all? Surely you’ve heard everything he has to say.”
“A Beyondcon doesn’t have any credibility unless you’ve got Stipe and at least two of the original cast members attending,” Hibler said. “We have four of the six. Only Captain Stryker and Starella aren’t here.”
“And they are?” Stottlemeyer said.
Hibler looked at Stottlemeyer in disbelief, as if he’d just been asked who the first president of the United States was.
“The commander of the
Discovery
and his concubine psychic from Umgluck.”
Discovery
and his concubine psychic from Umgluck.”
Stottlemeyer rubbed his forehead again. Monk started rummaging around for something in the minibar. There was an awkward silence. I could feel the interview spiraling away from us.
When the captain spoke again, it was in a controlled voice, the kind he usually reserved for dealing with Monk.
“I meant in real life,” he said evenly.
Hibler stared at him. Stottlemeyer stared back.
“Kyle Bethany and Minerva Klane,” Hibler said. “What planet have you been living on for the last thirty years?”
“Earth.” Monk yanked the 7-Up can out of Hibler’s hands, startling him. “You should try it sometime.”
“What are you doing?” Hibler said.
“Enforcing law and order.” Monk handed Hibler a bottle from the minibar.
“What’s this for?” Hibler said.
“It’s a V8,” Monk said.
“I can see that,” he said. “Why did you give it to me?”
“This way you only have to hold one drink,” Monk said.
“But I don’t like vegetable juice,” Hibler said. “I like 7-Up.”
“It’s for your own good,” Monk said. “It’s a very tasty, even beverage. You’ll thank me later.”
I was still thinking about Kyle Bethany. I had a big crush on him when I was a kid. I didn’t like science fiction very much, but I could always count on two things in a
Beyond Earth
episode: that Captain Stryker’s shirt would get torn off somehow and that he’d end up in a romantic clinch with a female alien. And if there were no female aliens around, there was always Starella, the space shrink with the cosmic halter top that seemed to defy gravity.
Beyond Earth
episode: that Captain Stryker’s shirt would get torn off somehow and that he’d end up in a romantic clinch with a female alien. And if there were no female aliens around, there was always Starella, the space shrink with the cosmic halter top that seemed to defy gravity.
Bethany was a romantic hero, always jumping into danger and making passionate, chest-heaving speeches about freedom, democracy, and humanity. I don’t remember the speeches, but I haven’t forgotten the chest-heaving.
After
Beyond Earth
was canceled, Bethany did some guest shots on shows like
The Love Boat
and
Jake and the Fatman
, but he basically disappeared and I shifted my unrequited romantic longing to Rick Springfield.
Beyond Earth
was canceled, Bethany did some guest shots on shows like
The Love Boat
and
Jake and the Fatman
, but he basically disappeared and I shifted my unrequited romantic longing to Rick Springfield.
Minerva Klane was on
The Young and the Restless
until she became one of the Old and the Incontinent. I saw her picture not long ago in the
National Enquirer
while I was waiting in the checkout line at Safeway. She’d had so much work done to her face that she looked like someone wearing a Minerva Klane mask.
The Young and the Restless
until she became one of the Old and the Incontinent. I saw her picture not long ago in the
National Enquirer
while I was waiting in the checkout line at Safeway. She’d had so much work done to her face that she looked like someone wearing a Minerva Klane mask.
“Why didn’t Bethany and Klane show up?” I asked. “It’s not like they’re busy working.”
“They’re part of the Galactic Uprising.”
“You’ve lost me,” Stottlemeyer said.
“They’re leading the Fen in the rebellion against the reimagining of the
Beyond Earth
-verse.”
Beyond Earth
-verse.”
“I’m still lost,” Stottlemeyer said.
“The UBS Network is producing new episodes of
Beyond Earth
.”
Beyond Earth
.”
“Isn’t that what you’ve been fighting for ever since the show was canceled in the seventies?” I asked.
“Yes and no,” Hibler said. “They’re bringing it back with a new cast, new writers, and what they’re calling a grittier take on the storytelling. A lot of the fans feel betrayed.”
“How did Stipe feel about it?” Monk asked. Now that Hibler was holding a V8, Monk could focus on the case.
“That’s one of the questions we wanted to ask him,” Hibler said. “The suits at the network brought in a new executive producer, the guy who did the
Eat Your Flesh
movies. But they couldn’t have done it without Stipe’s approval.”
Eat Your Flesh
movies. But they couldn’t have done it without Stipe’s approval.”
Other books
Loups-Garous by Natsuhiko Kyogoku
Home in Time for Christmas by Heather Graham
My Secret Unicorn by Linda Chapman
Covered Bridge by Brian Doyle
Ark Royal 2: The Nelson Touch by Christopher Nuttal
Her Majesty's Western Service by Leo Champion
Elvis and the Grateful Dead by Peggy Webb
Pick Your Poison by Leann Sweeney
Inheritance (The Dark Gifts) by Cross, Willow
The Nice and the Good by Iris Murdoch
