Patrick Kloster: This is a funeral home, Mr. Monk. My wife has just passed. I find that grin on your face rather inappropriate.
Adrian Monk: I know how you did it.
Patrick Kloster: You still think I murdered my wife?
Adrian Monk: You set a trap.
Natalie: Like the poisoned pawn.
Patrick Kloster: Oh, you've been chatting with some chess masters. Good for you.
Adrian Monk: When I was in your bedroom on Wednesday, I noticed a few things. I just didn't put it all together until today. The glass that had recently been washed, some breath mints, some eyedrops.
Patrick Kloster: And what did they tell you?
Adrian Monk: That your wife had started drinking again.
Natalie: Married to you, I don't blame her.
Adrian Monk: She kept it secret, of course. At least, she tried to. How long did it take you to find her secret stash, a day, a week? On Wednesday morning before you left for Canada, you poisoned her bottle then put it back where you found it. Later that day, Linda took a drink.
Natalie: The poisoned pawn.
Adrian Monk: Then she put the bottle back as you knew she would. It really was brilliant. You didn't have to hide the poison. She would drink it then hide it herself. Natalie, call the captain.
Natalie: Yes, sir.
Patrick Kloster: And did you find this bottle or this hidden stash of poison?
Adrian Monk: No, of course not. It was long gone. You had four days to get rid of it. But there are still traces of it in here, in her body. We're gonna run every toxicology test in the book, and we're going to find it.