Page 53 of Cruel Shame

“We’re going to get Elizabeth to do it.”

“How?”

“She sat with me on the journey back, pleading for understanding. Myra is about to expose their relationship to the media. If she gets engaged to someone who she hasn’t been photographed with in public, everyone’s going to know it’s a sham. She’s desperate.”

“Which explains why she needs Kendrick.”

“Exactly.”

I pulled myself up to sit and went through everything I’d just learned. Elizabeth was more loyal to herself than to her family and was desperate to hide any trace of her relationships with other girls. Because Myra was going on the offensive with facts, Elizabeth and her family were desperate to secure a future marriage with a prominent family.

“That still doesn’t explain how Elizabeth will send in stolen DNA samples,” I said.

“We’re going to let her think they’re yours.”

“Okay?” My brows drew together. This was turning out to be the most convoluted plan. Since their last scheme ended with me arrested, and would have gotten me jailed if Elizabeth hadn’t swapped real cocaine for flour, I wasn’t about to say it wouldn’t work.

“Once we steal a sample from Father Neapolitan, we’ll prove a bunch of things.” He held up a finger and counted off the points. “One, that he’s a Liddell, two that he’s your father, and three, that you’re entitled to a slice of that fortune.”

Unease settled in my belly. In this part of the world, people seemed more aware of inheritance and succession in a way that reminded me a little of Billy Hancock. I suppose that’s how wealth stayed in a family for generations, but benefitting from a person’s death or claiming money I seemed wrong.

Maxwell cupped my cheek. “What’s on your mind?”

I cringed as I said the words. In a few simple steps, the Liddells had destroyed Mr. Burgh’s career, his reputation, and his life. Why the hell was I baulking about lashing out at them the only place it would hurt?

He exhaled a long breath. It was part exasperation and part are-you-fucking-kidding-me?

“Sorry.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “They don’t give a shit about playing dirty, and neither should I.”

“We’ll let her know we’ve gathered DNA samples of Mr. Burgh and every man you think might be your father, just to prove the Liddells wrong. When she steals them and sends them to the lab for processing with her return address, we’ll intercept the reply.”

“But we’ll get Elizabeth’s DNA,” I said, still not understanding the point of running the girl around in circles.

His brow rose. “I’m just saying that Camden Liddell seemed awfully protective of Elizabeth. Compare that to the archbishop, who went to play golf with Orlando’s grandad.”

I reared back and stared into Maxwell’s eyes. That didn’t sound one bit outlandish. How many uncles loved their nieces enough to risk their careers in that phony drug bust and then threatened school girls in their hospital rooms? He was probably working behind the scenes to fix things so that Myra got full punishment for the gun and coke, too.

An idea had me tilting my head to the side. “But won’t Camden be in the line of succession if he quits his job with the police?”

“That’s not the point.” Maxwell grinned. “The Liddells wouldn’t want a scandal like that to go public. If we uncover any worthwhile dirt on the Liddells, they’d put Elizabeth back on television to retract her lies about Mr. Burgh.”

“What if she doesn’t?” I asked.

He reached into his blazer pocket and produced his smartphone. After tapping a few commands, he pulled up a video of a formal dining room.

My breath caught in the back of my throat. “Is that—”

“Chez Deloraine?” he drawled. “Yes, it is.”

I threw my arms around him and pressed kisses on his lips. “You recorded Elizabeth throwing her mum under the bus?”

“Not only do I have footage of Elizabeth admitting that her mother made her spew those lies on TV, but I also got her to talk about her relationship with Myra, the cocaine she put in the curry and diet pills.”

I squealed into Maxwell’s ear. Maybe the footage wasn’t admissible in a court of law but in the court of social media, incriminating videos and recordings were priceless.

* * *

We spent the rest of the day undressing each other and making love. By the time Maxwell finished with me, we had to return to Mr. Burgh’s house so I could change into another uniform. The cleaners had removed all traces of broken glass from the room, and except for the empty picture frames, the room looked relatively untouched.