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!

recoils. Shock ricochets over her face. “You wanted

it that

To take your revenge on me? Because she

leans forward on folded arms, his face almost touching the grill. “You got it right

is he

Admitting this?

his save for the barrier. “You imagine I would have wanted you?” she hisses. “Fallen in love with you? Is that

moves to stand behind Klempner, poking a baton

something in the guard's stance; something in his

He dislikes Klempner?

Really dislikes him?

Something personal?

And Klempner’s face…

go upsetting your visitors, you’ll not be getting any more of

an excuse to

flash sidelong, fury glittering

The monster…

he schools his features to a more normal expression; apparent passivity…

Apparent meekness.

Apparent obedience.

All fake.

What’s going on?

lays a hand on Charlotte’s. “Calm down,” he murmurs. “It’s past.” It’s the first thing he’s

just saw, but my thoughts are

and Klempner eye-ball each other. After long seconds he says, “So what would

tell me something about my mother?” There’s pleading in her voice.

inclines, eyes unfocusing, seemingly looking into some far distance. “She had

A thing? What do

tattoo on the back of her shoulder, just there.” He reaches back, tapping behind himself. “And she’d painted one on the wall of her

was artistic? A painter? A

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

Klempner regards her, then continues, “She always seemed to be wearing butterflies on

in her chair.

cheeks, looking amused. “What’s so surprising

have it down as

tone like a

his. “Would

the next

sets. “Why not

encourage you to visit

“Oh… What else?”

gets that distant look again. “She wore a necklace with one too, a butterfly that is. A little silver thing.

dives for her bag, scrabbling inside. Klempner watches the performance with a raised brow. He

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

“Well, what are

The missing persons file on my father.” Her hand is shaking.

then he turns his attention back to the photo. “I'd like a closer

snaps fingers at the photo. Charlotte passes it to

grill and

Something precious?

then sits staring

the necklace you were talking

as he looks

him in

“Yes, that’s Conners.”

still

the monosyllable lacks

doesn’t seem to notice. “When was it? Where was

end, before... before...” He holds up the photo. “Can

then swallows. “It's the

a hand over hers. Her flesh is icy. “It's a copy of the original. James

swings to

want it, you can have

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

trembles. “Why do you have

your father gave it to your mother. Since she's not here, I suppose that

voice wavering, “I thought they didn't let you

here. But I can have it sent to you.

from mine. “Why would you take

at a lip. “I used to hate

had nothing to

photo. “Quid pro quo. You give me

that really

folds his arms, a sneer flirting over his mouth, staring

James stares back.

to

I hear

then, “Why did it fail?

before speaking. “It ended like that, yes. But... there was something about her well before then.

“Couldn’t what?”

“Mitch

that supposed

no

like a blade. “While you

his arms. “No,

loved my father

“I’m not convinced of

“But she married him?”

actually necessary to love someone

you want

yes, I wanted her. I wanted her

you.” Her

not convinced of that either. There was something else. Something

from that, you deduce that

she have left

air

knew where you would be. But she

her hand again, curling warm fingers around her cold ones. “You don't

me what happened. Do you want the

whispers. “I want the truth

aggression seems to drain from him. “And whatever led you to think

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