Cruel Shame (Knights of Templar Academy #3) - Sofia Daniel Page 0,16
Hancock.”
“Because I want you to take down a statement,” I hissed.
He folded his arms over the yellowing sweater. “Did Mr. Burgh ever act inappropriately toward you?”
“Never.”
“A witness produced a recording containing you accusing him of…” He reached into his back pocket, pulled out his smartphone, and tapped a few commands.
I narrowed my eyes, bracing myself to hear Elizabeth’s made-up bullshit.
“Here we are.” Cromar cleared his throat. “Miss Hancock screamed at the top of her voice ‘are you coming onto me? It sounds like you’re pissed off because I didn’t go into the cupboard with you’.”
Every drop of blood drained from my face and into a heart spasming with palpitations. I said those words. Said them when I didn’t know why the hell Mr. Burg had brought me to the academy and why he kept calling me by my first name.
How was I to know what my grandfather would be the headmaster of a posh Scottish school? I grew up with a druggie for a mother and a drug lord for a stepfather. People like me weren't supposed to come from such breeding.
I turned my gaze back to the empty sofa. How much would I bet that our conversation was stored somewhere on a computer ready to be unearthed? If I denied it, I’d lose any credibility as a character witness.
“There’s no shame in being a victim of abuse.” DCI’s voice turned coaxing. “Abuse has followed you like a black cloud, Miss Hancock. From your stepfather to your foster fathers to Samuel Kettering and now your grandfather.”
The pain in my head chose this moment to sharpen, and I winced at the sensation of being impaled through the eye with a javelin. Frustration welled through my insides. If only I could think straight, I’d have the right words to put this bastard in his place. My throat thickened, and my face grew hot with tears.
“Have a hanky.” DCI Cromar stood at the edge of my sofa, his lips curved in what he probably thought was a sympathetic smile. “Dry your eyes and help me ensure he doesn’t do the same to another impressionable, young woman.”
“You’re disgusting,” I murmured.
“I beg your pardon?”
“How would you like it if someone accused you?”
Cromar’s brows drew together in a frown. “Miss Hancock—”
“You’re supposed to uphold the law, yet all you’re doing is helping a corrupt family victimize an innocent man with a pack of lies.”
A frustrated breath huffed out of his nostrils. “And you insulted our Deputy Chief Constable.”
“Are you going to take a statement or not?” I snapped.
“Not.” He placed his hands on his hips and rocked forward on the balls of his feet. “You’ve told us nothing in the public interest.”
“Nothing that will benefit the Liddell family, you mean?”
He stepped aside. “If you’re going to turn rude and belligerent, you had better leave.”
“What about my chocolate digestives?”
“They’re not coming.” He folded his arms across his chest.
Not that I cared, but they never were. I rose off the hard sofa and wiped my bandaged hands down the sides of my jeans. The corruption in this place felt like a mass of fleas carrying the bubonic plague. The longer a person stayed, the more likely they were going to be infected by the Liddells.
“That was a fucking waste of my time.” I brushed past him and headed toward the door.
DCI Cromar grabbed my arm. “Miss Hancock.”
“What do you want?” I snatched my arm out of his grip.
“We are here to help you, even if it doesn’t seem that way.” Sincerity dripped from his voice, and the way he pulled back his shoulders and puffed out his chest reminded me of Gilderoy Bloody Lockhart.
I didn’t know if I should cry or spit in his face. The wanker actually believed in what he was saying. “If you care about justice, you’ll listen to Myra Highmore’s claim of where she got that gun.”
“Miss Highmore is a disturbed young—”
“Like me?” I met his gaze. “It’s funny how you dismiss these witnesses as mental the moment their statements disprove your superiors’ lies.”
His nostrils flared, and a muscle on the side on his jaw flexed.
“May I leave, now? Detective Chief Inspector?” Normally, I’d call him a detective and enjoy his spluttered reply that he was also a chief inspector. This time, I used his full job title. If DCI Cromar wasn’t corrupt, maybe something I said might sink through his thick skull.
He stepped aside. “You were never under arrest.”
Without a backward glance, I walked to the door and flung it open. Constable Pala