Editor’s Note: The following article is a summary of the findings detailed in Forensic Report #002 (Handwriting Analysis). The full raw documentation is available for download at the end of this file.
We often think of handwriting as just a functional tool, a way to leave a note or sign a cheque. But forensic graphologists know it as “brain writing.” It is a neuromuscular seismograph that records not just what we intend to say, but who we truly are. When a person lives a lie, the strain of that deception bleeds onto the page.
In this case, a Christmas card note became a chilling piece of evidence. It was written to the author of this site by a man who had successfully masked his identity and abusive nature for decades. To the wider family, he was a father figure claiming frailty and confusion. To the person who received the card, he was a “nice” man who secretly orchestrated cruel emotional games.
Under the lens of forensic analysis, the “confused old man” mask fell away, revealing a calculated predator. Here is what his handwriting told us about the psychology of a con.
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1. The “Shake” Was Fake (The Art of Malingering)
The note in question offered a classic excuse: a gift was missing because of a “muddle” caused by “medication.” The writing appeared shaky and jerky, designed to solicit sympathy for a frail elder.
However, the science of neuromuscular movement tells a different story.
When someone truly suffers from tremors (due to Parkinson’s or heavy medication), the shake is rhythmic and consistent, like a coiled wire. Furthermore, they lose fine motor control, and their “i” dots miss the stem, landing wildly on the page.
In this sample, we found the “Malingerer’s Paradox.” The lines were drawn with a jerky, erratic hand to look shaky, but the “i” dots were placed with sniper-like precision, perfectly centred over the stems. This revealed that the writer had full visual and motor control. The “shake” was a performance, a costume worn to avoid accountability for a cruel act of exclusion.
2. The Felon’s Claw: The “Nice” Backstabber
One of the most disturbing traits identified in the script is known in graphology as the Felon’s Claw.
This appears in the lower zone letters like “g”, “y”, or “j”. Instead of a normal loop that returns to the baseline, the stroke turns into a sharp hook or talon. Psychologically, this trait is the hallmark of the “nice backstabber.”
It represents a person who lures you in with a smooth, charming, or “fatherly” demeanour (the smooth start of the letter), only to inflict a sudden, painful wound (the sharp claw). It is the signature of someone driven by subconscious guilt who projects that self-loathing outward, punishing those closest to them. It perfectly matched the victim’s experience: being invited to a family Christmas only to be publicly ostracised.
3. Gaslighting on the Page
Gaslighting is the psychological manipulation of making someone question their own reality. Amazingly, this can manifest physically in handwriting.
We observed “tangled” lines, where the loops from one line crashed into the writing on the line below. This creates visual confusion, forcing the reader to struggle to decipher the meaning. It is a dominance tactic: “I will make a mess, and you must do the work to understand me.”
Combined with an erratic baseline, writing that goes up and down like a rollercoaster, it physically mimics the emotional instability the abuser inflicts on their victims. The goal is to keep the target off balance, never knowing if they are dealing with the “nice” dad or the “angry” tyrant.
4. The “Dad” Delusion
Perhaps the most telling detail was the signature. The writer signed as “Dad,” despite legally being the uncle, a fact hidden for years.
In the analysis, we looked at the congruence between the body of the text (the private self) and the signature (the public mask). The signature was often “crossed through” or marked with a slash. In graphology, this is a sign of self-cancellation. On a subconscious level, the imposter knows he is a fraud. He writes the name “Dad,” but his hand instinctively strikes it out.
The Verdict
Handwriting analysis cannot predict the future, but it can shine a powerful light on the dark corners of a personality. In this case, the ink revealed what the victim had suspected all along: the frailty was feigned, the confusion was strategic, and the “love” was a cover for control.
It serves as a reminder that while people can lie with their words, their neurological patterns, captured in ink, rarely do.
