Adrian Monk: What would happen, I wonder, if Scott Gregorio broke Darryl Grant's record.
Walker Browning: I don't know.
Lieutenant Disher: I'll tell you what would happen. That three million dollar baseball would suddenly be worth roughly nothing.
Walker Browning: Yeah, but it doesn't matter, 'cause, uh Well, the slump Gregorio's in, he's not gonna be breakin' any records.
Adrian Monk: You made sure of that, didn't you, Walker? when you murdered the woman he loved. Catching that ball must have been the best day of your life. A few weeks ago, you decided to sell it, but you discovered there were no buyers because the record was about to be broken.
Captain Stottlemeyer: So you panicked. You had to protect your investment.
Adrian Monk: You went after Gregorio outside the stadium. You were trying to break a leg or an arm or anything to keep him out of the lineup. But that didn't work.
Captain Stottlemeyer: After that, he was surrounded by bodyguards 24/7. You knew you'd never have another chance.
Sharona: But he was vulnerable in another way. He was in love with Lawrence Hammond's wife, and you knew it. [dog barks]
Adrian Monk: Okay, has that dog been fed recently?
Walker Browning: Hammond the millionaire? This is insane.
Adrian Monk: You knew Hammond's schedule. The board of directors meeting was well publicized. The night before, you broke into his garage and replaced his global positioning disk with one you programmed yourself.
Hammond followed the directions, and all you had to do was wait.
Sharona: And all because you wanted to sell a baseball.
Walker Browning: No, no. No. You can't prove any of this.
Captain Stottlemeyer: Here's a little tip for you, Walker. Next time you wipe down a stolen car, make sure that you get the adjustment bar under the driver's side seat, because we lifted a thumbprint, and I'm betting it's yours.
Walker Browning: [dog barks] Toby! Achtung.
Adrian Monk: I'm done, right? I think I'm done. Am I done?
Captain Stottlemeyer: Stop. Stop. Monk, stop!
Adrian Monk: I'm just gonna leave.