Masters & Lovers Box Set Three

Chapter 23

Michael

“Think he’ll be talkative?”

James shrugs. “Who can guess with that bastard?” He casts down. “Charlotte?”

She’s tight, controlled, hands shoved in the pockets of her jeans. “It’s okay. I’m alright.”

Mmmm…

The guard at the counter goes through the usual rigmarole…

Got to have their procedures I suppose…

… sliding the daybook across the counter. He taps a cracked fingernail on the bottom row. “Name and signature there, sir. And some ID, please.”

I hand over my driving license. “I’ll just be a moment.” The guard scans the license, stapling the copy to the rest of his paperwork, passes it back then turns to James. “Now you, sir.”

He repeats the performance with James and Charlotte, then “And your car keys, please.” I hand them over and he hangs them on a keyboard at the back of the reception area. “Thank you, sir. You can go through now.”

The interview room is as dismal as ever…

Can’t they ever give these places some fresh paint?

And a couple of extra light-bulbs…

Footsteps have trailed a path over worn linoleum and the reek of cigarette smoke competes with stale cabbage.

Klempner’s waiting, sitting behind the barrier. His gaze flicks between me and James then settles on Charlotte as she takes her seat facing him. “Thank you for coming.” His expression is schooled flat but polite, his tone just as much so.

She flushes. “You’re welcome.”

The prison-issue clothes are shabby, but well pressed, immaculate, his hair well cut, fingernails trimmed and clean.

He sits with his hands on the counter, fingers interwoven, thumbs circling each other as though this were no more than a job interview or perhaps a niece visiting a favourite uncle.

Ignoring me and James, “And what would you like to talk about today?”

I push the paper up to the barrier. “Does that mean anything to you?”

His gaze flicks to mine then to the paper. He leans in, looking more closely. “An address? Should it?” He radiates boredom.

Faked?

“I found it in the police files. Supposedly it was the last known address for Charlotte’s mother.”

Klempner’s cheek twitches...

… Yes, faked…

“I’m guessing you visited?” he says. “What did you find?”

“We tried to visit, but the address no longer exists and hasn’t for a long time. There’s a supermarket and a car park on the site now.”

Klempner sucks his teeth. “It may have been a dead end to begin with. Bech was fairly creative about muddying the records. It was a good part of what he did; keeping the dogs sniffing in the wrong direction...”

A shudder runs through Charlotte, seated next to me. Klempner’s gaze flickers to her, his face a blank. Under the counter, I lay a hand on her thigh and she settles.

“So the address was bogus in the first place?”

“I don’t know.” Klempner inhales. “It probably was. I lost track of her. And Bech…” He pauses.

“What?”

“Nothing, just thinking.”

“About what?”

His head tilts back. He regards Charlotte under lowered lids. “Bech wasn’t happy about Mitch,” he says eventually. “It’s possible he tried to misdirect me too.”

“I thought he was your reliable henchman?”

“And who told you that?”

Assumptions…?

Charlotte breaks in. “Bech… Corby as I knew him… He knew my mother? He didn’t like her?”

“No, he didn’t. But then, Bech didn’t really like anyone but Bech. He had his own agenda.”

“Which was?”

“Making himself very wealthy.”

“So why did you work with him?”

“He was efficient… most of the time anyway. He generally had good ideas and could put them into practice. It was his suggestion that I send you to that farm up north.”

She inhales sharply.

She okay?

I try to take her hand in mine, but she tugs it away.

“But why? I thought I was going to be punished for murder, but I woke up there.”

“Murder?” Klempner frowns. “Why would you think that?”

“Supervisor Jenkins…” she suddenly swallows her words.

“Jenkins was hit by a truck. Why…?”

Better stop this…

I interrupt. “So why did you send her to that farm?”

He ignores me, addressing Charlotte. “Jenkins was dead. I had to get you out of the way. Left to his own devices, Bech would almost certainly have killed you. Or arranged that you died. I wanted you alive.”

“So you sent me to the farm and set a spy on me? Why there?”

He taps a forefinger, the nail click-clicking on tired formica.

“I wanted you to grow up like your mother.”

Christ!

ricochets over her face. “You wanted me as a substitute

put it

To take your revenge on me? Because she left

almost touching the grill. “You got it

is he saying all

Admitting this?

for the barrier. “You imagine I would have wanted you?” she hisses. “Fallen in love with you? Is that what you mean? After the way you treated me when I was little? It’s been over twenty years. You’re obsessed.

to stand behind Klempner, poking a baton between

the guard's stance;

He dislikes Klempner?

Really dislikes him?

Something personal?

And Klempner’s face…

your visitors, you’ll not

excuse to cut his

eyes flash sidelong, fury glittering there. Just

The monster…

his features to a more normal expression; apparent passivity… “Yes, Mr

Apparent meekness.

Apparent obedience.

All fake.

What’s going on?

down,” he murmurs.

what I just saw,

each other. After long seconds he says, “So what would you like to talk

her. “Will you tell me something about

looking into some far

A thing? What

she liked butterflies. She had a small tattoo on the back of her shoulder, just there.” He reaches back, tapping behind himself. “And

was artistic? A painter? A

work was very good. Very realistic.” He sucks at his teeth. “Almost eerily so actually. She could

to run out of words. Klempner regards her, then continues, “She always seemed to

back in her

sucks in his cheeks, looking amused. “What’s so surprising

bit. “Didn't have it down as a pyjamas kind of

tone like a desert,

to his. “Would

he muses. “Perhaps the next time you

sets. “Why not

you

“Oh… What else?”

again. “She wore a necklace with one too, a butterfly that

mouth opening and closing. Then she dives for her bag, scrabbling inside. Klempner watches the performance with a raised brow. He glances at me with a questioning eye.

something; the photograph, holding it up to the grill. “Is that

are the

file on my father.” Her hand is shaking. “Is that it?

he turns his attention

the photo. Charlotte

it under the grill and

Something precious?

sits staring

that the necklace

quiet as he looks

in

“Yes, that’s Conners.”

still

the monosyllable lacks

doesn’t seem to notice. “When was it?

“Towards the end, before... before...” He holds up the

flushes then swallows. “It's the only

“It's a

She swings to James. “You're sure?”

yes, if you want it, you

you.” Klempner sits silently gazing at the image. “I still have that necklace you know. If you like, you

voice trembles.

story. But your father gave it to your mother.

didn't let you keep things like

say I have it here. But I can have it sent to you. Perhaps at

bolt upright, dragging her hand from mine. “Why would you take that kind

chews at a lip. “I used to hate

I had nothing

He stalls then holds up the photo. “Quid pro quo. You give

really it?” asks

folds his arms, a sneer flirting

James stares back.

to

I

the two of them then, “Why did it fail? Between you and my mother? Because she was afraid of

eyes for a long pause before speaking. “It ended like that, yes. But... there was something

“Couldn’t what?”

shrugs. “Mitch

supposed to mean.

had no

gives him a look like a blade. “While you do? You

sits back, folding his

loved my

head tilts. “I’m not convinced of

“But she married him?”

not actually necessary to love

you want

that far. But yes, I wanted her. I wanted

didn’t want you.”

of that either. There was something

you deduce that she

have left you

air

the counter. “She knew I had you. She knew where

her hand again, curling warm fingers around her cold

you came to talk; to ask me what happened. Do

whispers. “I want the truth to be a fairy

drain from him. “And whatever led you to think

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