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!

her face. “You wanted me as a substitute for her? Is that

it that

revenge on me? Because she

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

is he

Admitting this?

you?” she hisses. “Fallen in love with you? Is that what you mean? After the way you treated me

Klempner, poking a baton

is something in the guard's stance; something in

He dislikes Klempner?

Really dislikes him?

Something personal?

And Klempner’s face…

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

for an excuse to

eyes flash sidelong, fury glittering there. Just for

The monster…

schools his features to a more normal

Apparent meekness.

Apparent obedience.

All fake.

What’s going on?

he murmurs.

want to think about what I just

in her chair. She and Klempner eye-ball each other. After

something about my mother?” There’s pleading in

head inclines, eyes unfocusing, seemingly looking into some far distance. “She had a thing for

A thing? What do

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

was artistic? A painter? A

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

out of words. Klempner regards her, then continues, “She always seemed to be wearing butterflies

back in her chair.

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

bit. “Didn't have it

like a

eyes lift to his. “Would

“Perhaps the next time you come to

face sets.

encourage you to

“Oh… What else?”

necklace with one too, a butterfly that is. A little silver

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

to the grill. “Is that it? The

“Well, what are the chances? Where the hell did

The missing persons file on my father.” Her hand

eyes narrowing, then he turns his attention back to the photo. “I'd

snaps fingers at the photo. Charlotte passes it to him. He gives it a cursory inspection, then

slides it under the grill and

Something precious?

then sits staring

that the necklace

voice is quiet as he looks up. “Your father gave it

in the

“Yes, that’s Conners.”

still friends

But the monosyllable lacks

to notice. “When was it? Where

before...” He holds up the

flushes then swallows. “It's the only

is icy. “It's a copy of the original.

into mine. She swings to James. “You're sure?” He nods without

if you want it, you

you.” Klempner sits silently gazing at the image. “I still have

have it?” Charlotte's voice trembles. “Why do you

father gave it to your mother. Since she's

let you keep things like that

don't. I didn’t say I have it here. But I can have it sent to

“Why would you

back, chews at a lip. “I

something I had

“Quid pro quo.

that really it?”

a sneer flirting over his

James stares back.

to out-stare a

I

them then, “Why did it fail? Between you and my mother? Because she

a long pause before speaking. “It ended like that, yes. But... there was something about her well before then. As though

“Couldn’t what?”

shrugs. “Mitch

that supposed

no

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

folding his arms. “No,

my father

“I’m not convinced of

“But she married him?”

not actually necessary to love someone

want

But yes, I wanted her. I wanted her to

didn’t want you.” Her voice

something else. Something stopping

you deduce that

she have left you

air through

had you. She knew where you would be. But she never came for you. I believed she would.

hand again, curling warm fingers around her

to talk; to ask me what happened. Do you want the

truth to

him. “And whatever

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