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!

Shock ricochets over her face. “You wanted

could put it that

your revenge on me? Because she left

his face almost touching the grill. “You got

he saying all

Admitting this?

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

poking a baton between his shoulders. “Behave

the guard's stance; something in

He dislikes Klempner?

Really dislikes him?

Something personal?

And Klempner’s face…

you’ll not

excuse to

sidelong, fury glittering there.

The monster…

to 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

want to think about what I just saw, but my thoughts are

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

rage drains from her. “Will you tell me something about my

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

A thing? What

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

was artistic? A painter?

good. Very realistic.” He sucks at his teeth. “Almost

regards her, then continues, “She always seemed to

in her chair.

in his cheeks, looking amused. “What’s

it down as a pyjamas

like

lift to his. “Would you tell me about

next time you

face sets. “Why

you to

“Oh… What else?”

“She wore a necklace with one too, a butterfly that is. A little silver thing. Just a trinket, but she was fond of

mouth opening and closing. Then she dives for her bag, scrabbling inside. Klempner watches the

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

are the chances? Where the hell did you get hold of

some old records… The missing persons file on my father.” Her hand

narrowing, then he turns his attention back

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

grill and Klempner

Something precious?

sits

that the necklace you were

as

in the

“Yes, that’s Conners.”

you still

the monosyllable lacks

doesn’t seem to notice. “When was

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

swallows. “It's the only one I

hers. Her flesh is icy. “It's a copy

swings to James. “You're

you want

image. “I still have that necklace you know. If you like,

have it?” Charlotte's voice trembles.

your mother. Since she's not here, I suppose

let you keep

have it sent to you. Perhaps at those

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

back, chews at a lip. “I used to hate you.

I had nothing

up the photo. “Quid pro quo. You give

that really it?”

his arms, a sneer flirting over his mouth,

James stares back.

to out-stare

I hear

between the two of them then, “Why did it fail? Between you and

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

“Couldn’t what?”

shrugs. “Mitch

that supposed

no capacity

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

folding his

loved my father

tilts. “I’m not convinced of

“But she married him?”

to

you want to marry

wanted her. I

she didn’t want you.”

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

from that, you deduce that she had no

have left you

air through his

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

be carved in stone. I take her hand again, curling warm fingers around

inhales. “I thought you came to talk; to ask me what happened. Do you want the

“I want the truth to be a fairy

whatever led

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