Since he seemed no longer in imminent danger of being collared for harassment -- or clobbered by Miss Howard's book -- Joseph lowered his hands and stowed the fruit back in a pocket. Which meant that his coat bulged slightly in a less than flattering way, but Joe wasn't one to worry about such things.
"No, I don't have any solid evidence." He agreed, his earlier smile still lingering in his gaze if not on his lips. "But, I do have very good instincts. I tend to trust them. In my opinion there were only a select few people who would have the audacity, the means, and the sanction to produce this kind of work." From his other suit pocket he pulled out his own copy of the pamphlet in question. It was somewhat crumpled and worn along the folds, as though he'd examined it on more than one occasion.
"I don't wish to brag but my memory is also pretty good. And as I recall, Mr. Neumann wasn't at the Musgrave pickets due to an unfortunate bout with dysentery. And Bill Marcy, while admittedly an excellent orator, doesn't have the vocabulary displayed in this most passionate and articulate piece of rabble rousing. There's not a single word mispelled, either. Quite remarkable."
Joseph's tone wasn't mocking, but there was an air of flippant amusement in his delivery.
"Which leads me to you, Miss Howard." It was his turn to offer his companion a frankly intent gaze. "If I tell you exactly who I am and whom I work for, will you offer me an honest critique on my deductive reasoning thus far in return?"