[Stottlemeyer makes a late night visit to Monk's apartment. Monk, carrying a container of lightbulbs, answers]
Captain.
Hey. Got a minute?
Sure. [Stottlemeyer comes in and Monk closes the door]
What are you doing?
Oh, nothing. I was just... polishing the lightbulbs. What's going on? [He takes his box of lightbulbs back to the kitchen]
Uhh, you remember that convention I went to in Atlanta about three years ago?
Uhhhh....
Well, something happened there that I didn't tell you about: I landed, I hailed a cab, and, I recognized the cab driver. It was Harold Burnshaw.
Burnshaw?
Burnshaw. He used to be a Fed, he was a real player. He used to head the FBI's field office in Atlanta until the 1996 Olympic Games.
The Plaza bombing?
Exactly. They accused the wrong guy. Burnshaw booted it big-time on network television, instant career-killer. Now he's driving a cab. Monk, you should have seen his face. I'll never forget it.
What does this have to do with-
Twenty years ago, Sonny Chow froze some of his own blood in the event that he needed surgery. So they've got bulletproof DNA for a comparison, and that's a prelim on the hair we found at the crime scene.
[reads from the file] It's a match.
It's Sonny Chow's hair. No question about it. He's been dead for six years, and he's my primary suspect.
Yeah...
Now if I go public with this, and I'm wrong, I'm gonna wind up at the airport, picking up cops who still have jobs! Can you help me with this? I mean, I've gotta know, I've gotta be certain. Is this guy alive or dead?
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