"I got 20-20 eyes. Those glasses are only for reading," Fred replied, without looking up.
"And seeing. What's on your list?"
"Just things," Fred muttered, putting on his glasses. "This here case may be a lot more complicated than you think. Don't go jumping to conclusions. There's elements to consider."
Dean smiled as he picked up the evening newspaper. There was nothing new on the Byrne case-just a comment to that effect. After a quick look at the sports section he tossed the paper aside and glanced at the bicycling magazine. That too held little interest, so he began to peruse the papers he had accumulated at World Wide.
Dean found it difficult concentrating on the expense reports with Fred's foot keeping time against the coffee table to an early cut of Hank Williams, but gradually his mind began to focus on the forms. The reports went back nearly three years and listed dates, locations and dollars expended, with each entry carefully and manually recording names, locations, reasons for visits and persons present. The names and offices visited recurred regularly as Mayer had described. While there was no precise pattern to the trips, no locations seemed to be more frequently visited than others. Dean found himself able to predict for instance, it was time to visit Baltimore again, and a week or two later, Byrne would travel there.
Most trips commenced early in the week if the destination was closer, and Byrne was home by late Wednesday or Thursday. Even though some of the destinations might have been more efficiently visited by plane, Byrne always took a company car, often resulting in very long workdays. The mileage was scrupulously recorded, as was everything else. Receipts were attached to all reports, mostly for inexpensive meals and an occasional beer or two. There were ten cities serviced by Byrne, all on the eastern seaboard, and his itineraries were detailed on practically an hour by-hour basis. There was absolutely nothing that Dean could see to indicate any unusual pattern or unaccounted time. Jeffrey Byrne was a boringly precise man. The files were better than a sleeping pill.
Dean rose with a yawn just as Errol Garner was replaced by Hank Snow. He began his ritual of locking up and putting out a bowl of canned cat food for Mrs. Lincoln, who came on the run at the sound of the refrigerator door.
"Aren't you going to bed?" Dean asked as he returned to the living room. Fred had spotted the World Wide files and had begun to read them, as Dean suspected he would.
"Nope," Fred answered. "I want to work on some stuff."