Chapter 201: Chuck: As You Wish, Now You Can Truly Go Crazy!
"It's alright, we have a medical examiner."
Chuck reminded them, telling the ME not to dispose of the body yet, but to come and bandage their captain's wounds first. Then he reminded everyone to focus on the case itself: "Look at the fatal wound and the position the victim was lying in. The attacker was about 6'1" tall. Someone that tall couldn't possibly have such small hands."
"Thank you for Captain Disher's personal verification."
Chandler scoffed, "I believe that when he's on the witness stand in court, these hands will be very convincing."
"It's what I should do."
Captain Randy Disher, whose hands were being bandaged by the ME, nodded in acknowledgment, looking thoughtfully at his hands: "When will these wounds heal?"
"Don't worry, they'll be fine in a few days."
The medical examiner smiled.
"This isn't good."
Captain Randy Disher shook his head immediately. "Testifying in court for this case would take at least a week."
He looked seriously at the medical examiner. "Could you slow down the healing a bit?"
"…"
While medical examiners in American TV shows are often portrayed as eccentric science geeks, this ME was still somewhat embarrassed and speechless at his captain's request, unsure if it was a joke.
"Relax."
Captain Randy Disher noticed the ME's strange and troubled expression and gently waved his bandaged hand, defusing the situation. "I was just saying… I'll discuss it with Sharona when I get back; she's the best nurse."
The medical examiner could only manage an awkward but polite smile, unsure how to react.
"Cool guy, I suggest you don't discuss it with your wife,"
Chandler patted Captain Randy Disher on the shoulder, offering a serious suggestion.
"Why?"
Although he was patted on the shoulder by a guy ten years his junior, Captain Randy Disher didn't mind at all. On the contrary, he was quite pleased and sincerely asked for an explanation.
After all, he was the cool boy from the band, a teenager at heart forever!
"Because no matter how much you emphasize how good a nurse she is,"
Chandler said, suppressing a laugh, "don't forget that she is first and foremost your wife, and a wife's attitude towards a husband with injured hands is definitely not very good, especially for middle-aged couples~"
"Why?"
Captain Randy Disher still looked at Chandler with confusion.
The others also looked over.
"You know~"
Surrounded by onlookers, Chandler could only try to make the person involved understand the importance of their hands to them as a couple, but he was too embarrassed to say it directly in public.
"I didn't know, that's why I asked you."
Captain Randy Disher looked at Chandler seriously. "Please tell me, I don't want to upset Sharona."
He then smiled happily. "You don't know, it wasn't easy for us to get together. She was Monk's nurse. She was divorced with a kid, beautiful and charming. We had chemistry back then, but unfortunately, for various reasons, it got complicated. Before I could even make a move, she had remarried her ex-husband and left San Francisco to return to her hometown in New Jersey.
Monk was devastated and terrified, but what they didn't know was that I was even more devastated and terrified, like the most important thing in my life had slipped away.
After that, I didn't want to work for the San Francisco Police Department anymore. I even quit and went into business with my friends, releasing a rock album. Oh, and we even had a website…"
"Get to the point!"
An impatient voice came from around the corner. Clearly, the rock-and-roll cool kid Randy Disher was already 'famous,' and nobody wanted to hear his life story anymore.
"Okay, okay."
Captain Randy Disher, ever the good sport, looked around to make sure no one else was speaking, and smoothly steered the conversation back on track: "Anyway, after four years of delay, Sharona's ex-husband is back to being an ex-husband. Although her former position was taken by Monk's new assistant, Natalie, and she was openly and subtly criticized for returning for the money, none of that matters. The most important thing is that the spark we've built up over the years has finally ignited! I'm willing to leave San Francisco for her and settle in New Jersey because I'm a grown man now!"
Clap clap clap!
Chandler clapped vigorously, attracting everyone's attention, then wiped his dry eyes, feigning tears of emotion: "So touching! The rock 'n' roll boy has become a devoted husband. It's beautiful."
"Thank you."
Captain Randy Disher was delighted, looking at Chandler like a close friend.
"Let's focus on the case itself now, and not get sidetracked."
Chandler quickly directed everyone to look at the crime scene. "Your happiness only highlights her tragedy. Let's concentrate on helping her get justice, okay?"
"But my hands..."
Captain Randy Disher wanted Chandler to explain in detail why his hands weren't suitable for his wife to bandage and care for.
"Your hands are fine!"
Chandler immediately interrupted, saying quickly, "After hearing your touching love story, I understand now. Even if your hands were broken and useless, as long as you have that mouth, your wife would feel endless happiness..."
Seeing the others looking at him strangely, Chandler quickly added, "I mean, you play in a rock band, you must be the lead singer, right?"
"Yes!"
Captain Randy Disher nodded repeatedly, his gaze towards Chandler already burning with enthusiasm. A kindred spirit, absolutely a kindred spirit!
In the rock band, he was indeed the absolute lead singer!
"I knew it!"
Chandler waved his finger forcefully, pursing his lips. "Anyway, the sweet nothings you say are practically one love song after another. Tell me, what woman could resist this relentless onslaught of love songs? So what if you don't have hands? You're still golden, okay?"
Jane's lips twitched as she looked at the silent Chuck, her eyes filled with 'What kind of assistant did you hire?'
"I have indeed written a lot of my experiences into my songs…"
Captain Randy Disher couldn't resist wanting to jam out with his kindred spirit Chandler.
"Stop singing, let's get down to business!"
Chandler glanced at the silent Chuck and the uncomfortable-looking Jane, then quickly interrupted, pointing skyward like Chuck, and said self-deprecatingly, "If you're going to investigate a case, just investigate it properly. Don't talk about anything else, or someone will say I'm too chatty, and then I might get fired."
Captain Randy Disher didn't say anything, just patted Chandler's shoulder hard, his eyes full of 'I understand you.'
Back in the day, wasn't he also the target of all sorts of ridicule and disdain? After his serious work was done, he was determined to tell his good friend Chandler, "Other people's opinions don't matter. The most important thing in life is to be optimistic, happy, and be yourself!"
"So the break-in robbery was completely staged."
Jane proactively steered the conversation back on track. "The murderer has the house key, so her husband is the prime suspect."
"It could also be a lover or mistress."
Chandler couldn't help but tease, "They might also have the key. You know, it's more exciting at home~"
"..."
Jane glanced sideways at Chandler, who was always trying to be funny. She felt he was implying something, and she finally understood why some people said he was being annoying. She just couldn't stand him being so sarcastic and self-deprecating!
"Indeed, that possibility can't be ruled out."
Chuck nodded. "But a lover or mistress can be basically ruled out."
"Why?"
Jane asked, puzzled.
"Wait a minute."
Captain Randy Disher suddenly spoke up, then stretched out his hands in front of him, one higher than the other as if clearing away an obstacle in his path. He stared at the slowly moving hands, his feet shuffling in circles, watching them go round and round.
"What are you doing?"
Chandler, after trying to hold back, couldn't help but tease, "Using magic to summon the dead?"
"No,"
Captain Randy Disher explained with a smile, "I'm imitating Monk. He does this before every case. According to him, it isolates him from the world, allowing him to focus on observing hidden details from his own perspective."
"Does it work?"
Chandler chuckled.
"I've been practicing for eleven years, and it only works for Monk,"
Captain Randy Disher stated honestly.
"...Then why are you still doing it?"
Jane was speechless.
"Sorry."
Captain Randy Disher smiled apologetically: "Mainly because I ran into Detective Chuck today, I wanted to try out Detective Monk's signature moves. Maybe this time it'll work?"
Everyone: "..."
That makes so much sense! Detective Monk solves cases entirely with hand gestures, not his brain!
"Dr. Wolfe, you understand, don't you?"
Captain Randy Disher looked at Chuck.
"Yes, it's both a gift and a curse."
Chuck uttered Detective Monk's classic line emotionlessly.
"Ha! You really know your stuff!"
Randy Disher was thrilled to hear this classic line: "That's the perfect description of Monk!"
"Chuck's talking about you,"
Chandler retorted.
Your natural, goofy humor is both a gift and a curse!
"Me?"
Randy Disher looked at Chuck, puzzled.
"Look at the murder weapon and its location."
Chuck didn't answer him, but instead reminded everyone, "The murderer didn't just pick up the more convenient sculpture, but instead took six steps and picked up another, less convenient sculpture to beat the victim to death. Why?"
Everyone immediately looked at the artworks placed around the scene. The closest one was a handle-shaped sculpture, thinner at the front and thicker at the back, very convenient to hold, not much different from gripping a baseball bat.
"This is Evan Gold's work!"
Jane, wearing gloves, picked up the sculpture, examined it, and saw a signature on the base. She exclaimed, "He, or his mistress—someone close to him—didn't want to destroy his own artwork, which is why he was still thinking about this during the murder!"
"Brilliant!"
Captain Randy Disher exclaimed. "This reasoning is very solid; the jury will buy it. Now we just need to confirm that the deceased's husband didn't have a mistress who was around 6'1" tall."
He paused, glanced at Chandler, and added in a low voice, "Or a lover, and someone willing to kill for him."
"…"
Faced with the naturally clueless Captain Randy Disher's friendly wink, Chandler's lips twitched. He was stuck with this joke for life!
"Now let's go to Evan Gold's studio,"
Chuck said, stepping out. "Let's see if his carefully prepared alibi is really airtight."
"Chandler, ride with me!"
Captain Randy Disher greeted him warmly.
"Are you sure?"
Chandler looked at his bandaged hands.
"Oh."
Captain Randy Disher looked at his hands, then smiled knowingly, before getting into Chuck's car with Chandler.
Chandler wanted to tell him to get in Jane's car; he wanted to talk to Chuck alone, but faced with the innocent and enthusiastic Randy, he swallowed his words.
Jane didn't get into Chuck's car but followed in her own.
Having four people in one car would be inconvenient if they needed to arrest Evan Gold later.
Having deduced the case to this point, she completely believed Chuck's judgment: this was a textbook American case of spousal murder, and no matter how meticulously Evan Gold planned his so-called perfect alibi, it would be easily exposed once Chuck got involved.
Artistic creation requires inspiration, and sculpture is very noisy, so the well-funded Evan Gold's studio was located in the mountains, somewhat similar to Chuck's mountain villa, but simpler.
When Chuck and his team arrived, Evan Gold, wearing headphones and with his back to the door, was packing his things.
"It's him!"
Jane was even more certain.
If he hadn't killed his wife, what husband would be so casually listening to music and doing chores after his wife's murder?
"Mr. Evan Gold!"
Captain Randy Disher called out, but there was no response after three calls. Only after tapping him on the shoulder did Gold turn around, remove his headphones, and glance at everyone: "Aren't you looking for the bastard who killed my wife? What are you doing here?"
"We are looking,"
Chandler said, swaying slightly, his eyes mocking.
"We meet again, Detective Chuck."
Gold smiled cryptically at Chuck, then looked at Captain Randy Disher: "Are they police officers too?"
"This is Dr. Chuck Wolfe, a consultant for the department, and these two are his assistants,"
Captain Randy Disher introduced.
"I've already answered what I needed to answer."
Gold with the ponytail looked at Jane. "It's quite unexpected that you always have such exceptionally beautiful people around you. I have more inspiration for my new goddess statue."
"Don't rush. You'll have plenty of time to be inspired once you're in prison."
Chuck calmly surveyed the studio.
"See that?"
Chandler jumped up, pointed at Gold with the ponytail, and shouted to Captain Randy Disher, "This is the perfect time for you to use that joke!"
"What joke?"
Captain Randy Disher smiled, then leaned over and whispered in Chandler's ear.
"…"
Chandler was speechless.
You used it so smoothly and so frequently before, but now you don't seem to know how to use it. Chuck clearly meant that once Gold with the ponytail is in prison and has been 'inspired' countless times, the new goddess statue he creates will probably no longer be described as a goddess in terms of physical characteristics.
"What are you accusing me of?"
Gold, with his ponytail, narrowed his eyes. "If not, apologize, or I'll sue you for slander!"
"If it's the truth, it's not slander."
Chuck had already finished looking around the studio and calmly stared at Gold. "I have evidence that you're the murderer!"
"Impossible!"
Gold's eyes widened in panic. He avoided Chuck's gaze, walked to a sculpture, lifted the white cloth covering it, revealing a classical goddess statue, and exclaimed, "I have an alibi! I was with her the whole time the incident happened! The receipt for the two tons of Belgian gray marble is here; you can call and verify."
"No, you don't!"
Chuck exposed him: "Your so-called alibi is just claiming that carving this sculpture would take more than 12 hours, but that's under normal circumstances. If you were to carve it with a power drill, the carving time would be greatly reduced—an hour would be enough. After the carving, the studio was covered in dust, but there was a long mark, that's the mark of an extension cord. Your circuit breaker blew—you must have used a high-powered appliance. Although it's not common for sculptors to use power drills, it doesn't mean you can't use them, so your alibi is completely invalid."
"Are you kidding me?"
Gold, with his ponytail, cried out in increasing panic: "I pulverized the stone? And then? Where did I put it? That's two whole tons of marble! Did I eat it?"
"Tell me!"
Chuck said calmly.
"What did you say?"
Gold was stunned.
"Since you say I'm wrong,"
Chuck looked at him, "then tell us, after you spent a full 12 hours meticulously carving the sculpture, where are the remaining stone chips that were cut off using normal carving methods?"
Gold was completely dumbfounded.
He was so focused on refuting Chuck's claims and mocking Chuck's baseless speculation that he forgot about the flip side. No matter what he used to cut the stone, the debris still had to exist. He couldn't possibly be cutting it and then collecting all the stone dust and disposing of it somewhere unknown, could he?
That would be way too suspicious!
At that moment, facing Chuck's calm gaze, sweat immediately beaded on his large forehead. Meeting the glares of the crowd, arms crossed and defensive, he shouted, "I don't need to answer any of your questions! You have a conflict of interest with me, you're targeting me! My lawyer is coming right away! Any questions, talk to my lawyer!"
(End of Chapter)
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