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 me as a substitute

could put it

revenge on me? Because

grill. “You got it right

he

Admitting this?

face almost meeting his save for the barrier. “You imagine 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 over twenty years. You’re obsessed. You’re

Klempner, poking

guard's stance; something in

He dislikes Klempner?

Really dislikes him?

Something personal?

And Klempner’s face…

your visitors, you’ll not be getting any

for an excuse

fury glittering there. Just for

The monster…

before he schools his features to a

Apparent meekness.

Apparent obedience.

All fake.

What’s going on?

he murmurs. “It’s past.”

about what I just saw, but my

each other. After long seconds he says, “So what would you

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

into some far distance. “She had a thing for

thing? What do you

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

A painter? A good

of her work was very good. Very realistic.” He sucks at his teeth. “Almost eerily so actually. She could have made a living as an artist had she chosen

out of words. Klempner regards her, then continues, “She always seemed

sits back in her chair.

his cheeks, looking amused.

it down as a pyjamas kind of

tone like a desert, “Long

lift to his. “Would

the next time you come to

face sets. “Why not

you to visit me

“Oh… What else?”

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

for her bag, scrabbling inside. Klempner watches the

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

blinks, glances, then stiffens, looking more closely. “Well, what are the chances? Where the hell

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

his eyes narrowing, then he turns his attention back to

at the photo. Charlotte passes it to him. He gives

grill

Something precious?

then sits staring

the necklace you were talking

Yes, it is.” His voice is quiet as

him in the

“Yes, that’s Conners.”

still

But the monosyllable

to notice. “When

before...” He holds

then swallows. “It's the

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

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

you want it, you can

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

voice trembles. “Why do

mother. Since she's not here,

“I thought they didn't let

I can have it sent to you. Perhaps

mine. “Why would you take that kind

lip. “I used to hate you. That's

I had nothing to

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

that really it?” asks

flirting

James stares back.

to out-stare

I hear

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

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

“Couldn’t what?”

shrugs. “Mitch was damaged

supposed

had no

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

his arms.

my father

head tilts. “I’m not convinced

“But she married him?”

necessary to

you want to marry

yes, I wanted her.

didn’t want you.” Her voice drips

something else. Something stopping

deduce that

she have left you at

air through

She knew where

carved in stone. I take her hand again, curling warm fingers around her cold ones. “You

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

want the truth

him. “And whatever led you to think life is

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