CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
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MCNAMARA SAT IN A CHAIR opposite Fergusson. “Now, let’s talk,” he said harshly.
His eyes thundered the constable, and that made Fergusson feel uneasy.
The DCI’s stance was forbidding. He sat with his back straight and his arms crossed over his chest. He didn’t even blink, and that was unnerving. Fergusson’s left eye twitched and betrayed his apprehension.
The constable searched the chief inspector’s face with caution. He tried to guess what the detective was thinking and what he wanted to find out from him. Yet, he couldn’t read anything in the man’s features.
McNamara’s face left the impression that it was carved in stone. The dark look in his eyes disturbed the constable further because the DCI didn’t hurry to ask any questions and merely stared at him wit
