Kusack ran his tongue around his teeth and eyed the second half of his meatball sub. "Information is always welcome, Mr. De Witt, and I'm here to serve." At least until the bridge club clears out. "What is it you think you have?"
"I obtained copies of the documents in question."
"Did you?" Kusack's bland eyes narrowed. "Did you really? And how did you do that?"
"Without breaking any laws, detective. Once the copies were in my possession, I did what it seems to me, in my muddled civilian capacity, should have been done at the outset. I sent them to a handwriting expert."
Leaning back, Kusack picked up what remained of his dinner, used his free hand to motion Byron to continue.
"I just received my expert's report, via phone. I had him fax it to me." Byron took the sheet out of his inside pocket, unfolded it, and laid it on Kusack's desk.
"Fitzgerald," Kusack said with his mouth full. "Good man. Considered tops in his field."
So Josh had said, Byron thought. "He's been used for over a decade by both prosecutors and defense attorneys."
"Mostly for the defense—rich defense," said Kusack. He caught the whiff of Templeton influence. "Costs a goddamn fortune."
And has a very full schedule, Byron thought. Hence the delay in the report. "Whatever his fee, detective, his reputation is unimpeachable. If you care to read his report, you'll see—''
"Don't have to. I know what it says." It was small of him, Kusack supposed, but it gave him a little lift to tweak a man who didn't appear to have an ounce of extra fat on his body and who could wear a monkey suit and not look like a fool.
Byron folded his hands. Patience was, and always had been, his best weapon. "Then you've been in contact with Mr. Fitzgerald on this matter."
"Nope." Kusack dug out a napkin, wiped his mouth. "Got our own handwriting analysts. Got their final take in a couple weeks ago." Politely, he stifled a belch. "The signatures on the altered forms are an exact match. Too exact," he added before Byron could snarl. "Nobody writes their name the exact and precise same way every time. All the doctored forms have the same precise signature, stroke for stroke, loop for loop. Copies. Likely tracings of Ms. Powell's signature on the one 1040."
"If you know that, why are you sitting here? This is hell for her."
"Yeah, I figured that. Trouble is I gotta cross all my t's, dot all my i's. That's the way things work around here. We've got a few lines of inquiry going here."
"That may be, detective, but Ms. Powell has a right to know the status of your investigation."
"As it happens, Mr. De Witt, I'm finishing up my report on the progress of this investigation right now. I'll see Mr. Bittle first
thing in the morning, and continue my investigation."
"You certainly don't believe Kate copied her own signature."
"You know, I believe she's smart enough to have done something just that clever." He balled up the napkin and two-pointed it into an overflowing wastebasket. "But… I don't think she's stupid enough or greedy enough to have risked her job and her freedom for a piddly seventy-five large." He rolled his shoulders, which had grown stiff after hours at his desk. "I don't believe she'd have risked it for any amount of money."
"Then you believe she's innocent."
"I know she's innocent." Kusack sighed a little and adjusted his girth. "Look, De Witt, I've been doing this job a long time. I know how to look into people's backgrounds, their habits, their weaknesses. My take is that Ms. Powell's weakness, if you want to call it that, was making a big splash at Bittle. Now why is she going to jeopardize something she wants that much for a little playing-around money? She doesn't gamble, she doesn't do drugs, doesn't sleep with the boss. If she needs flash, she's got the Templeton pool to play in. But she doesn't. She puts in sixty-hour weeks at Bittle and builds up her client list. That tells me she's hardworking and ambitious."
"You might have indicated to her that you believed her."
"It's not my job to soothe anxious souls. And I've got my reasons for keeping her on the hot seat. Hard evidence is what makes or breaks a case in the real world. And gathering hard evidence takes time. Now, I appreciate you coming by with this." He handed Byron the expert's report. "If it helps, you can tell Ms. Powell that the department has no plans to charge her with anything."
"That's not enough," Byron said as he rose.
"It's a start. I've got seventy-five thousand to track down, Mr. De Witt. Then we'll finish it."
It seemed he would have to be satisfied with that. Byron slipped the report back in his pocket, then eyed Kusack. "You never believed she was guilty."
"I go into an investigation with an open mind. Maybe she did it, maybe she didn't. After I took her statement, I knew she didn't. It's the nose."
Byron smiled curiously. "She didn't smell guilty?"
Laughing, Kusack stood, stretched. "There's that. You could say I've got a nose for guilt. I meant her nose."