Disclaimer: I don't own Body of Proof and intend no copyright infringement.
Get to the point. For heaven's sake, GET TO THE POINT.
Tom Sullivan knew he should be grateful that one of the world's best forensic document examiners was taking the time to look at the suicide note allegedly left behind by David Hunt. He had had to call in quite a few favors to even get to talk to him. But well, for Megan…
Professor Ed Wallis was a renowned expert in the field of questioned document examination, if anyone could determine if the text had been written by Megan's father or if they were dealing with a forgery, it was him.
Knowing this was the only thing that kept Tommy from yelling at the elderly man.
I've been a cop for twenty years, there's no need to explain the three stages of QDE to me. Yes, first analysis. You break the samples down to directly perceptible characteristics. Then comparison. You take a look at the characteristics of the questioned item and contrast them with those of the standard sample. Thirdly, evaluation: You weigh similarities and differences against each other. Depending on the uniqueness and frequency of occurrence in the items, you conclude whether it's a fake or not.
Now, tell me, IS IT A FAKE OR NOT?
Tommy honestly didn't know what to hope for. Wallis' expertise was the last ace up his sleeve. All other tests, fingerprints/DNA/what-have-you had led to nothing but dead ends.
On the one hand he didn't want to disappoint Megan. He had done that way too often already. Philadelphia was about starting anew again.
On the other hand, what if Wallis had actually found something? Given Megan's persistent nature it would be like fuel to the fire. She'd never let go of this. But her father had died thirty-five years ago. Talk about a cold case. If they hit a wall with the investigation…
This had the potential to drive her insane.
Could he really risk that? Shouldn't he better protect her from herself and keep mum?
"This is one of the rare cases where the similarities and differences balance each other out."
Ah. Finally Professor Wallis was getting to the point.
"Judging from the characteristics of the letters alone I've arrived at the conclusion that the standard sample and the item in question were written by one and the same person."
Part of Tom wanted to leave it at that. Megan deserved peace. From what he had heard she had been through a lot lately. The cop part of him, however, couldn't just walk away.
"I'm clearly sensing a but here", he said.
"Look at the visual impression the text makes", Professor Wallis began. "Especially in comparison with the greeting card's text. No form of address whatsoever. Then there's the odd centering of the first five words – lots of space left and right. The following lines leave much smaller margins on both sides."
He paused and glanced at his notes. "In addition to that, why are the words "truly" and "sorry" connected? Look at the dot where the final upstroke of the "y" meets the first upstroke of the "s". The author didn't simply write the two words in one go because he didn't know better. He deliberately ended one word, lifted the pen from the paper, then put it back onto exactly the same spot and wrote the next word. The extra amount of ink created the small dot. This is a clear indication he connected the two words on purpose." The professor tapped his pen against the respective part of the note.
"Also no period at the end of the last sentence… it seems incomplete, as if the author had been planning to add something but didn't get to it. And no signature. Very odd. It contributes to the impression of incompleteness." Wallis leaned back in his chair.
"All of this is a rather subjective judgment, though. I'm speaking from experience here, but suicide notes in general are written under great pressure, in a state of highest emotional turmoil. The aspects I've just pointed out to you could just as well be the result of intense agitation."
When Tommy left the professor's office he was in a state of intense agitation, too. Damnit, Wallis had fed him just enough that he couldn't simply leave Megan in the dark about the professor's musings with a clear conscience. But on the other hand the results were so vague, hardly more than interpretations… again, what if they didn't lead anywhere?
Fuel to a fire that had the potential to completely consume her.
His cell phone rang. Megan's number, of course. She knew he'd see the professor this afternoon. He could ignore the call for now, pretend his battery had run out or whatever… but she wouldn't give up. Midnight at the latest she'd be at his apartment, clawing her way through his door if she had to.
Clenching his jaw he realized all he could do to protect her was to stay by her side, be there when she needed him, as her friend, ally and, most likely, punching bag.
Would he manage?
Twenty years ago he had failed her.
Don't mess this up again, Tommy.