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

could put it that

what? To take your revenge on me?

his face almost touching the grill. “You got it right the first time.

is he saying all

Admitting this?

with you? Is that what you mean? After the way you treated me when I

guard moves to stand behind Klempner, poking a

the guard's stance; something

He dislikes Klempner?

Really dislikes him?

Something personal?

And Klempner’s face…

you’ll not be

excuse

flash sidelong, fury glittering there. Just for a

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

just saw, but my thoughts are

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

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

unfocusing, seemingly looking into some far distance. “She

thing? What do

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

A painter? A good

He sucks at his teeth. “Almost eerily so actually. She could have

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

sits back in

his cheeks, looking

mumbles a bit. “Didn't have it down as a pyjamas kind

a tone like a desert,

“Would you

muses. “Perhaps the next

sets.

encourage you to visit me

“Oh… What else?”

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

Klempner watches the performance with a raised brow. He glances at

holding it up to

more closely. “Well, what are the chances? Where

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

turns his attention back to the photo. “I'd like a closer

Charlotte

grill and Klempner takes

Something precious?

sits

necklace

it is.” His voice is quiet as he

him in

“Yes, that’s Conners.”

you still

But the

“When was it?

slow. “Towards the end, before... before...” He holds up the photo.

flushes then swallows. “It's the

slip a hand over hers. Her flesh is icy. “It's a copy of the original. James can make you

to James.

yes, if you want

at the image. “I still have that necklace you

trembles. “Why do

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

they didn't let you keep things like

But I can have it sent to you. Perhaps at those Haswell

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

back, chews at a lip. “I

I had nothing to do

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

really it?”

folds his arms, a sneer flirting over his mouth,

James stares back.

try to out-stare a

I hear

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

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

“Couldn’t what?”

“Mitch

that supposed to

no

him a look like a blade. “While

sits back, folding his arms. “No, she

loved my father

“I’m not

“But she married him?”

necessary to love someone to marry

you want to

get that far. But yes, I wanted her. I wanted her to be with

want you.” Her voice

There was something else. Something stopping her

from that, you deduce that she

have left

air through his

I had you. She knew where

her hand again, curling warm fingers around her cold

to ask me what happened.

the truth to

drain from him. “And whatever led you to think

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