"sync:" "FRM@¾ÆÄÒ·¹´ü" "Hey, Billy." "You seen Kris Kedder?" "Check his trailer." "Hey, man, what's going on?" "Where'd you get that?" "Disc jockey I know." "They sent him an advance copy." "Do you like that cover?" "That was my idea." "Stealing my credit, stealing my song, was that your idea too?" "What, your name's not on there?" "Y'know, don't give me that." "Peggy's Gone to Memphis, words and music by Kris Kedder." "You know, you told me if I kept my mouth shut, if I was a "good boy" that you'd take care of me." "I guess you figure I'm just some dumb roadie that you can rip off and nobody's gonna care." "Okay, Stork, my man, let's just relax." "Now I was gonna talk to you about this." "I'm gonna offer you five grand." "Five grand?" "For a hit song?" "Look, dude, you got talent." "You co-wrote a great song, but you don't understand how the business works." "I didn't co-write anything." "I wrote that song, every note, every line." "I let you take half-credit because you said it would jumpstart my career." "All right, all right." "Look, let's just keep your voice down, c'mere." "What, you don't want anybody to see us?" "No, just, whoa, come here." "Yeah, hey, you know what, I don't blame you." "The rock and roll legend hasn't written a half-decent song in ten years." "Well, I got some bad news for you, rock star." "I can prove I wrote that song." "I made copies of the sheet music, sent it to myself, registered mail." "That's not legal." "You want to bet your career on that?" "What are you doing?" "I'm calling a copyright lawyer." "I'm taking my song back." "All right, you win, you-- I'll give you half credit." "Mr. Jackson, all right, listen, my name" " Captain!" " Oh, Captain, for the record, this was all her idea." "All right, I-I wouldn't even be here if I could drive or had anything else to do." "Okay, I give up, what is it?" "It's a $34 dry cleaning bill to clean the shirt and jacket that Mr. Monk ruined when he ran through the poultry farm to recover the ransom money in the Jimmy Creskow kidnapping case." " What are you going to do about it?" " Try to ignore it." "No, we've already submitted this twice." "It is a work-related expense, and we are entitled" " to compensation." " Not my idea." "Look, I couldn't agree with you more." "I think you guys are entitled to every dime you can get." "But there's nothing I can do about it." "Lieutenant Disher is the disbursement coordinator." "Okay, where is he?" "He's not here, he called in sick." "Is he okay?" "You know, he didn't sound too good, he's got a fever and he's got a cough." "That phlegmy fluid thing?" "Okay, when Randy is not here, who is in charge of payout?" "That would be the assistant disbursement coordinator." " And who is that?" " We don't have one." " Anything else?" " Nah, that covers it." "Hello, Karen." "He what?" "When?" "When?" "Wha--I thought Jared was grounded." "Well, how did he get there?" "Okay, I'll take care of it." "Yeah, no, I'll call you." "My kid, my oldest, has skipped school, and Karen thinks he's gone to a rock show." "Oh, I used to do that." "Play hooky, go to rock shows." " You did?" " All the time." "Anyhow, I gotta get up there, see if I can't find him." " Okay." " You need some help?" "Yeah, you know, I wouldn't mind." "Thank you." " I'll come with you." " Good." " Are you sure?" " Of course I'm sure." "I'm sorry, I just can't picture you at one of these." "Talking about, I used to go all the time." "Get a bus into the city, see the Stones." "Look at this mess." "Well, for God's sake, it's gonna take me all day to find him here." "I'm gonna miss a whole day's work." "An entire day!" "Gonna wring his little neck." "Hey, Captain, he's just a kid, don't you want to just stay out here and calm down before you go inside?" "No!" "Ah, wait, wa--wait," "What--what kind of rock show is this?" "It's the biggest festival of the year." "Festival?" "Oh, wait, poor you, Mr. Monk." "You thought they were real rocks?" "Like a geology exhibit?" "Like in a museum?" "Maybe." "Perfectly understandable mistake." "No, not really." "Okay, well, no harm done." "So I guess I'll need a ride home." "Monk, I'm not going home without my kid." "All right, look, I-I can't." "I can't do it." "I-I can't go in there." "Okay, Mr. Monk, come on, the captain needs you." "But there's 10,000 of them, and not even one of me." "Okay, look, I understand Monk." "Why don't you just go wait by the car?" "Yeah, I'll go wait by the car." "Okay, it's gonna be awhile." "Yeah, I'll be okay, don't worry about me." "Take your time, but--but hurry back." "But take your time." "And hurry back..." "Bracelet, let me see it." "All right, people, bracelets." "Let me see 'em." "Bracelets, people." "Keep your arms up, see your bracelets." "I don't have a bracelet, all I have is this." "How can I help you?" "I'm looking for my son." " He's 15, uh..." " 15." "Wearing a gray T-shirt." "Uh, he's about 5'6"." " 5'6", 15." " Isn't he 16?" "Yeah, right, he's 16." " Okay, 16." " Brown hair." " Brown hair." " Wearing an earring." "Which ear?" " Left ear." " Left ear." "Left ear earring." "Hey, listen, you got a picture?" "We can make copies and pass it out." "Yeah, good idea." "Yeah." "See if I can help you out here." "That's his mom." "That's Jared." "Jared Stottlemeyer." "But he's 16, this kid?" "No, that's-- that's an old picture." "You don't have anything more recent?" "Uh...no, I guess not." "All right, look, I'm gonna do what I can." "Meanwhile, you guys take these." "You'll have full access, backstage, wherever you want." "If you still can't find him, we'll make an announcement from the stage." " Appreciate it." " Okay, good luck." "Bracelets, people, let me see 'em!" "What?" "You think I don't spend enough time with Jared." "Why, because I haven't got a bunch of pictures of him?" "Doesn't mean anything." "How many pictures of Julie do you walk around with?" "Ah, I get it." "You think I'm avoiding the boys on purpose because I feel guilty about the separation." "And the fact that I'm dating Linda." "Is that it?" "Don't you ever shut up?" "Okay, look, you go that way, keep your cell phone on." "Give me a call if you find him." "Excuse me." "Excuse me!" "There's no dancing here!" "Uh, this is a parking area." "This is for vehicles, and people waiting for the captain." "I'm sorry, I don't make the rules." "That's right, you don't." "What are you doing?" "Oh, hey, hey!" "This is the police captain's car!" "How old are you?" "There's no way you're 25." "Excuse me." "Attention, may I have your attention, please?" "Excuse me, is there a taxi stand?" " I-I need a cab." " Not around here, buddy." "Is there a pay phone?" "Yeah, down on the right." "Down here." "Excuse me." "Sorry." "Sorry." "Pay phone?" "This way?" "That way?" "This way?" "That way." "Sorry, am I heading toward the pay phone?" "Over here!" "Over here!" "It..." "Try to minimize the roughhousing!" "Can we?" "Uh, phone?" "I have--sir?" "Phone." "Working phone." "All right!" "Who threw that?" "Who threw" "Excuse--give me that." "Who?" "Who was it?" "You have to watch what you're doing!" "I've seen people's eyes poked out with these things." "Not...not poked out, but cornea was scratched!" "Or bruised, or..." "there was some discoloration!" "Mr. Monk!" "What are you doing?" "I was just calling for a taxi." "They're gonna pick me up out front in about ten minutes." "But, Mr. Monk, that wasn't a phone booth." "No, that wasn't a phone booth..." "Natalie, that was some kind of horrible plastic outhouse!" "Oh, my God." "What was I talking into?" "My God, where's-- where did I put that quarter?" "For the love of God, Natalie, where did I put that quarter?" "Oh, my God!" "Oh, how long do you think I was in there?" "I don't know, Mr. Monk, maybe a minute." "That was rough." "It was like some kind of medieval torture device, that thing." "Yeah, I know." "I actually read, for the Spanish Inquisition, they used to lock people in Port-A-Johns." "That wouldn't surprise me." "All right, I-I it's-- it's time to go." "No, no, Mr. Monk, we haven't found the captain's son." "Excuse me!" "Excuse me, hi." "I heard some cops talking back there." "They said you're some kind of detective." "That's true, I am some kind of detective." "Hi, uh, Kendra Frank, I'm a roadie with Trafalgar." "Now, here." "I was a friend of Stork's." "Here." "I was more than his friend, I was his sponsor at Narcotics Anonymous." " And, Stork is..." " The roadie?" "The roadie they just found?" "God, I'm so sorry." "Stork." "His real name was Greg Murray." "Look, they're trying to say that he OD'd, okay?" "That's impossible." "He's been clean for 17 months." "I know, I talk to him about it every day." "Well, Kendra, we were there, we saw a needle in his arm." "No, that's how I know there's something wrong." "Stork was completely phobic about needles." "He was the only roadie I've ever met that didn't even have one tattoo." "I mean, he missed a whole South American tour last year because he wouldn't get vaccinated." "Maybe he got over it." "You don't just get over a phobia like that overnight." "Do you?" "No, you don't." "So, please." "What--what is this?" "Well, they gave me his stuff, so, um..." "It's his tour jacket." "This is a map." "Yeah, I have one of those." "They--they gave it out at the door." "You say he was afraid of needles." "Yeah, that's right." "He had an acupuncture appointment at 7:30 this morning." "What?" "Hello?" "Hey, Randy, how you doing, buddy," "I'm--I was worried about you." "Captain?" "Yeah." "What time is it?" "Oh, I'm sorry, did I wake you up?" "Hey, what's that music I hear?" "Oh, it's just my stereo." "It's broken, I can't turn it down." "Listen, Captain, thanks for calling." " Sure." " I'm gonna" " I'm gonna get up now." "I think I should make myself some soup." "Oh, soup, that's good." "Yeah, fluids are good." "Drink plenty of fluids." "Fluids, okay, I will." " Thanks for calling, Captain." " Take care, all right." "My boss." "Captain." "Lieutenant." "Did you, uh, did you call in sick too?" "No, Randy, I'm looking for Jared." "Well, here's what happened with me." "I was on my way to the doctor, and the--I was-- and the--the..." "I got nothing." "Let's go find Jared." "Black bandanna and sunglasses." "Yeah, it was this morning, about 7:30." "I remember." "He was my first patient." "Oh, was that the boy who died?" "The overdose?" "Heartbreaking." "How does that feel?" "Horrible." "Are you sure that's him?" "He was a friend of yours..." "I'm sorry." "Did he say anything?" "No, not much." "He just told me a story about how he met Eric Clapton." "He loved Eric Clapton." "And he dropped this." "Oh, my God, I made this for him." "Did he say anything else?" "Please, Annie, I have to know." "He asked me where he could score some H." "Heroin." "H, heroin starts with an H." " It's a street talk" " Got that." "He said he was giving up." "He wanted to get high." "He said he used to be afraid of needles, but he got over it." "I don't believe this." "Well, I guess he's with Kurt, Jimmy, and Janis now." " Who?" " I'll tell you later." "Well, then he paid me and left." "Did he talk to anyone else?" "No." "Oh, no, but when he left, he stopped to help some kids, some girl, she had a beach ball." "She was having trouble, so he blew it up for her." "A blue beach ball?" "I think so." "He blew that up?" "Thing almost killed me." "I hate that beach ball." "So it's true." "They were right, he OD'd." "I'm so sorry." "Thank you, for trying." "Mr. Monk, no!" "No, n-no, no!" "That's 400 watts." "No, no." "No." "Dad?" "You needed backup, huh?" "This should help, just rub this in twice a day." "Did he really touch a heat lamp?" "Why?" "I don't know." "What about the other hand?" "He kept touching it." "I don't know." "They found him in a Port-A-John." "Can you believe it?" "I know, we were there when it happened." "He was so young." "Overdose." "The medical examiner should be here soon." "If you could just step back." "No, no, no, no, it's--it's okay, I'm a police officer." "At least, I used to be." "There's no mud." "Excuse me?" "On his boots." "There's no mud." "There was mud all around those outhouses." "Yeah, but they carried him out." "Okay, but who carried him in?" "No track marks." "Are these his?" "This--this rubber strap was around his arm?" "That's right, I took it off myself." "You work with drug addicts a lot?" "It goes with the territory." "Natalie." "They wrap it around, like this, then they tie it in a knot." "Yeah, like..." "like this." "And then they pull it tight with their teeth?" " That's right." " I'm not doing that." "There's no other way to tie off your own arm?" "No, sir." "No teeth marks." "Someone tied it for him." "You're in big trouble, you know that, don't you?" "I know." "Can't I just stay for Kris Kedder though?" "He's on next, please, I've been waiting all year." "Forget about it, Jared." "You're under house arrest." "You're grounded for two weeks." " Captain!" " Monk." "Can we get out of here?" "Who's this?" "This is Kendra, this is a friend of the guy they found in the Port-A-John." "Yeah, I heard about that, sorry." "Overdose?" "I don't think so." "I think he was murdered." "We can't leave yet." "We can't leave?" "We can't leave..." "I'm so sorry." "I'm so sorry." "Did you put this up?" "Not me, no." "And it was definitely locked from the inside?" "Yes, sir, uh, we had to jimmy it." "He says it was locked from the inside." "They could've rigged the lock." "Over." "Yeah, you know, it would help things if you were to stand a little closer." "That's not gonna happen." "Over." "So is this how he does it?" "From 100 feet away?" "Not all the time." "How long you gonna be?" "As long as it takes, miss, this is a crime scene." "With only one cop?" "Ah, it's not just me." "You see that guy up on the hill, he's a cop." "And, uh, this guy here's a police officer." "Oh, these guys are great." "Oh, I hope they do Killer Machine!" "I'm checking out the lock here." "There are some scratches." "Are they recent?" "Over." "Yeah, there's no rust." "Hold on." "I got a little piece of wire here." "It looks like a guitar string." "Is that a B string?" "Nah, it's a D." "A high D from a 12-string guitar." "Those are pretty rare." "Kris Kedder uses one." "Yeah, yes he does, on the new single, right?" " I love that solo." " I love that solo too, man." "Oh, yeah, right near the end." "Yeah!" "Yeah, it's a guitar string from a 12-string guitar, apparently it's fairly unusual." "Okay, isn't there a vent on the right side, up near the roof?" "Over." "Yeah, Roger that, about 3 1/2 feet above the lock." "He must've been killed somewhere else." "They put the body inside, tied the wire around the bolt" "And ran the wire through the vent so they could lock the door from the outside." "Yeah, you didn't wait for me to say "over." Over." "Hello?" "Over." "Over." "I'm saying "over."" "You're right, there's a contusion." "And some hemorrhaging." "Was he, uh, was he hit?" "Hit, fell..." "I'll know more when I get him under the lights." "I thought Adrian Monk was here." "Uh, yeah, he's, uh, he's backstage with Natalie." "They're following a lead." "Oh, I love this song." "I can play this one on the piano." "Good for you." "Hey, Jared, thanks for your help with that guitar string." "I didn't do anything." "Sure you did." "That was an important clue, and I might have missed it without you." "We make a pretty good team, huh?" "What is that?" "What?" "Runaway child?" "Guess we don't need this anymore." "Where'd they get that picture from?" "It's when we went to Cabo." "Was that the only one you had?" "Look, Jared, it doesn't mean anything." "I'm, uh, it's a new wallet." "It's not a new wallet, liar." "I bet you have 1,000 pictures of your girlfriend in there." "Jared, please." "A pretty good team, huh?" "Not a team at all." "Or a family." "Hey, this has been tough on me too." "I lost my family too." "You're on in 20." "Well, thank you, brother." "Excuse me." "This is Adrian Monk and Natalie Teeger." " They're with the cops." " Cops?" "Yeah, they're looking into what happened to Stork." "What's the big mystery?" "He's been chasing that dragon for years." "I tried to help him." "When did you try to help him?" "See, now that he's dead, everyone was his best friend." "Where were you when he was sinking?" "Where were you?" "That's a nice song." "Well, thank you." "It comes out next week, you should buy a copy." "In fact, buy two." "I got my eyes on this new beach house." "You are Kris Kedder, the famous rock and roll song singer?" "I guess I am." "Right, uh, this..." "this was found at the scene." "These are from a 12-string guitar." "You're the only musician that has one." "I am." "What are you saying, Stork was strangled?" "I'm not saying anything, just asking questions." "That's all." "Chill, you know, out." "Hey, man, anybody coulda taken it." "I don't lock my case." "Y-you're out of tune." "Do you play, Mr. Monk?" "A little bit, clarinet." "Clarinet." "Hey, man, maybe you and I can get together and jam sometime." "When I'm like 87 years old." "You have mud on your boots." "Yes, I do." "I must be at a rock festival." "It's just that I don't see mud on anyone else's shoes." "I see some on yours." "You were gonna show me where Stork lived." "Yeah, he had a camper, it's back here." " It's locked." " I got the key, he trusted me." "You mind if I tag along?" "Now you got me kinda curious." "He lived in here?" "He loved it." "Between gigs, he'd take off, camp out." "Sometimes I'd go with him." "What did you do if one of you wanted to be happy?" "Asthma." "Since I was a kid." "It smells like mint." "It's imported from Denmark." "Do you want a hit?" "No, thanks." "Rhyming dictionary?" "Yeah, he was writing songs." "That was his dream." "He was really shy about it though." "He wouldn't even play me his stuff." "Who's this?" "Oh, that's his daughter, Margaret." "Oh, no, where is she?" "Tennessee, her mom moved her there after they split." "I guess I should call them." "I know I have their number somewhere." "Oh, hell, I'm late." "Gotta go be famous." "Catch you later." "You'll catch me later?" "What?" "Something's wrong." "Did either of you move anything?" "No." "No." "Something's different-- there was an envelope." "White envelope, right here." "There was?" "It's a receipt." "Registered mail, he mailed something to himself." "I remember that." "That was about six months ago," "I went to the post office with him." "He was mailing sheet music to himself." "He called it his insurance policy." "What song?" "I don't know." "I think I do." "The song Kris Kedder was just singing." "Peggy's Gone to Memphis." "Kedder didn't write that song." "Stork wrote it about his daughter." "Peggy is short for Margaret." "Peggy's Gone to Memphis." "Oh, my God, he just took that envelope." "We can't prove anything without that envelope." " Coming through!" " Excuse me." "Move it, move, move, move!" "Do you think he still has it on him?" "I don't know." "You are a God!" "He's gonna burn it, go, go, go, go!" "Go, go!" "Excuse me, come here." "Wait, you--Kris Kedder?" "You mean the singer?" " He's the guy." " No, no, no, that's not possible." "I've known Kris Kedder for years." " Personally?" " No." "Here's what happened!" "The roadie, Stork, wrote a song." "What?" "The roadie, Stork, wrote a song!" "Kris Kedder stole it!" "Stork must have confronted Kedder!" "Kris killed him!" "What?" "He tried to make it look like Stork OD'd!" "So he stuffed him into the hell hole!" "You mean that Port-A-John!" " No, I mean the hell hole!" " The hell what?" "At some point, he remembered that Stork was off drugs and that he was afraid of needles!" "He knew that nobody would believe that Stork OD'd like that!" "Then he had to make it look like Stork was back on drugs and over his fear of needles, so he disguised himself and he went to the acupuncturist!" "And he made sure he mentioned he was looking for heroin!" "Right." "And he put the map in Stork's pocket to lead us to the acupuncturist." "And he closed the door." "And he locked it from the outside." "God, I can't hear the music." "I think I've gone deaf." "Mr. Monk, the song is over." "Monk, it doesn't matter, the--the D.A. not gonna buy it!" "We don't have anything!" "We don't have any real physical evidence!" "What about-- what about the sheet music?" "Nah, he burned it onstage!" "All we got are these-- these guitar strings!" "And that's not enough, and you know it." "The beach ball, the beach ball!" "Excuse me?" "When he was pretending to be Stork, and he was still-- still in disguise," "Kedder blew up that blue beach ball!" "There's a million fingerprints on that ball, Monk!" "The proof is not on the beach ball," " it's in the beach ball." " Oh, the asthma!" "In the beach ball?" "Kris Kedder has asthma!" "He uses an inhaler, very distinctive inhaler." "And it's mint-flavored, it's one of a kind." "If we can get that blue beach ball to the lab intact..." "You're talking about the air inside the ball!" "Yes!" "There was a witness, somebody who witnessed him blowing it up!" "And he was impersonating the victim!" "Is that enough?" "Yes." " Get that ball!" " There it is!" "I got it!" "I'm a police officer!" "I need that ball!" "I need that beach ball!" "Oh, please sweetie, right here." "Right here." "That ball, I need that beach ball!" "Right there, that one, the beach ball!" "Miss, I'm a police officer, I need you to drop that ball." "Okay." " Hey, what the hell are you doing?" " Whoa, whoa, calm down." "We got a police emergency here." "This guy needs to talk to the crowd." "Excuse me, hello." "I don't mean to kill your buzz." "Go home!" "I am a former police officer." "Thank you, thank you very much." "Take it easy." "Everybody chill." "That blue beach ball contains material evidence in a homicide investigation." "So we need you to bring the blue beach ball down to the stage." "Hey, you suck!" "Yes, I know." "I know." "It's true." "I am a straight." "But I have a dream." "A dream that someday all the hippies and all the straights can live together side by side." "Not too close." "Because, you know, the smell." "Go home!" "You know, the hippie smell." "Okay, okay, people, I need that ball!" "I'm not joking!" "Music!" "Music!" "All right, that's it." "That--that's obstruction!" "You're all under arrest!" " If you cannot afford an attorney" " Hey, forget this!" "From the chorus, one, two, three, four!" "Police officer, I need that ball!" "We need that ball!" "Good job, son, give me the ball." "Don't!" "Don't you do it." "He's a cop." "What's your name?" " Jared." " Jared." "Jared, this is very important, give me the ball." "Hey, man, you do everything the cops tell you?" "You know I don't." "I like your shirt." "Thanks, man." "You play?" "Yeah." "Me and you, we should jam sometime." "Jared, listen to me." "If he deflates that ball, we don't have a case." "Dude, he's trying to set me up." "'Cause of what I am." "What I represent." "That's nonsense!" "Jared, you might not like me, but you know me." "You don't trust cops, do you?" "I trust this one." "Don't--don't do it!" "Punk!" "Be careful with this." "You know Detective Kramer?" "He's waiting for this at the lab." "Hey, check this T-shirt out." "Sweet, huh?" "That's gonna be worth a fortune when he's convicted." "Exactly." "Mr. Monk, what did you think of your first rock concert?" "I like the old songs." "Why don't people write old songs anymore?" "I don't know, Mr. Monk." "Hey, we'll meet you guys back at the car." "Jared, what do you think?" "How about a couple of pictures for my wallet?" "So I got a good one for the next time you take off." "All right."