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!

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

it that way,

To take your revenge on me? Because

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

is he saying

Admitting this?

in love with

moves to stand behind Klempner, poking

in the guard's stance; something

He dislikes Klempner?

Really dislikes him?

Something personal?

And Klempner’s face…

you’ll not be getting any

an excuse to cut his

flash sidelong, fury glittering there. Just for a

The monster…

a more normal expression; apparent passivity…

Apparent meekness.

Apparent obedience.

All fake.

What’s going on?

down,” he murmurs. “It’s past.” It’s the first thing

think about what I just saw, but my

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

“Will you tell me something about my mother?” There’s

seemingly looking into some far distance. “She

thing? What do you

liked butterflies. She had a small tattoo on the back of her shoulder, just there.” He

was artistic? A

work was 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 on herself somewhere...

back in her chair.

his cheeks, looking amused. “What’s so

a bit. “Didn't have it down as a

tone like a desert,

lift to his. “Would you

he muses. “Perhaps the next time you come to

face sets. “Why not

will encourage you to visit

“Oh… What else?”

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

for her bag, scrabbling inside. Klempner watches the performance with a raised brow. He glances at me with a questioning eye. I shrug. He avoids James’

up to the grill. “Is that it? The necklace. That she’s wearing

more closely. “Well, what are the chances?

found it in some old records… The missing persons file on my father.” Her hand is shaking. “Is that it? The necklace she’s

her, his eyes narrowing, then he turns his

the guard who snaps fingers at the photo. Charlotte

slides it under the grill and Klempner

Something precious?

sits staring at

necklace you were

quiet as he looks up. “Your

him in the

“Yes, that’s Conners.”

still friends

But the

to notice. “When was

before...” He holds

flushes then swallows. “It's

Her flesh is icy. “It's a copy of the original. James can

tighten into mine. She swings to James. “You're

yes, if you want it, you

the image. “I still have that necklace you know. If

Charlotte's voice trembles. “Why do

your father gave it to your mother. Since she's

thought they didn't let

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

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

at a lip. “I used to hate

something I had nothing

He stalls then holds up the photo. “Quid pro

really it?” asks

arms, a sneer flirting over his mouth,

James stares back.

try to out-stare

I

looks between the two of them then, “Why did it fail?

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

supposed to

had no capacity

like a blade. “While you do? You mean she didn't love

his

loved my father

“I’m not

“But she married him?”

not actually necessary to

you want

But yes, I wanted her. I wanted her to be with

didn’t want you.” Her voice drips

was something

deduce that

she have left you at

air through his

resting on the counter. “She knew I had you. She knew where you would be. But

white-faced, could be carved in stone. I take her hand again, curling warm fingers around her cold ones. “You don't believe in softening the

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

the truth to be

from him. “And whatever led you to

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