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

could put it that

your revenge on me? Because

touching the grill. “You got it right the first time. I wanted you as

is he saying

Admitting this?

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

behind Klempner, poking a baton between his shoulders.

is something in the guard's stance; something

He dislikes Klempner?

Really dislikes him?

Something personal?

And Klempner’s face…

you’ll not be getting any more of

for an excuse to

flash sidelong, fury glittering there. Just for a

The monster…

schools his features to a more normal expression;

Apparent meekness.

Apparent obedience.

All fake.

What’s going on?

he

I just saw, but my

She and Klempner eye-ball each other. After

drains from her. “Will you tell me something about my mother?” There’s pleading

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

thing? What do

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

was artistic? A painter? A good

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

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

back in

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

“Didn't have it down

a tone like a desert,

“Would you tell me about

the next

face sets. “Why

encourage you to

“Oh… What else?”

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

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

purse she pulls something; the photograph, holding it up to the grill. “Is that it? The necklace. That she’s wearing

what are the chances? Where the hell did you get

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

narrowing, then he turns his attention back to the

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

the grill and Klempner takes

Something precious?

then sits staring at

that the necklace

it is.” His voice is quiet as he looks up.

in

“Yes, that’s Conners.”

you still

But the monosyllable lacks

to notice. “When was it? Where was

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

flushes then swallows. “It's the only one

hand over hers. Her flesh is icy. “It's a

mine. She swings to James. “You're sure?” He

want it, you

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

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

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

wavering, “I thought they didn't let you keep things like

it sent to you. Perhaps at

dragging her hand from mine. “Why would you take

a lip.

I had

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

that really it?”

sneer flirting over his

James stares back.

to out-stare

did I hear

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

“It ended like that, yes. But...

“Couldn’t what?”

shrugs. “Mitch was

supposed to

had no capacity

look like a blade. “While you do? You

sits back, folding his

my father

head tilts. “I’m

“But she married him?”

not actually necessary to love

you want to

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

she didn’t want you.” Her

was something else. Something stopping her

from that, you deduce that she

have left you at

air through

knew I had you. She knew where you would be. But

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

happened. Do you want

truth to be a fairy

“And whatever led you to think life

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