THIRTY-FIVE
Back at the station, Nolan sifted through the old case notes, sipped his tea and went over again, in his head, the exchange with MacMillan. Something about him simply didn’t ring true. His abrasiveness he could understand, but not the callous, heartless manner. When he looked into his eyes he saw something there which caused his stomach to lurch. Plus, there was the lie about not using the car. Nolan had nonchalantly placed his palm on the bonnet, felt the heat from the engine. But MacMillan had denied using it. Why lie? Was he merely confused? The dark shadows under his eyes clearly proved he’d been awake most of the night. Or was there something more sinister going on behind that mask of contempt and anger?
Approaching footsteps put aside his thoughts and he nodded to his c
