“I checked the roster of every administrator in the Ninth District office,” Raymond said, sliding a sheet of yellow legal paper toward me. “None of them sign with a double loop at the start of their surname.”
“So who authorized the release of the voucher?” I asked.
Raymond did not answer, his eyes fixed on the photocopy as if the loops of ink might untangle themselves if he stared long enough.
“I have a meeting near City Hall at half past one,” I said, rubbing the silver watch casing on my wrist. “An old contact in the auditor’s office agreed to look at the numbers, but only if we met outside his building.”
He looked up, his brow furrowed. “Be careful with who you show those copies to, Lydia.”
The coffee shop on Spring Street was loud with the noon rush, the hum of an espresso machine drowning out the conversations around the small round tables. I sat in the corner booth, waiting until a tall man in a grey suit and a faded blue tie slipped into the seat opposite me.
