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

could put it that

To take your revenge on

forward on folded arms, his face almost touching the grill. “You got it right the first time. I wanted you as a substitute for

is he

Admitting this?

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.

Klempner, poking a baton between his shoulders.

something in the guard's stance; something in

He dislikes Klempner?

Really dislikes him?

Something personal?

And Klempner’s face…

you’ll not be getting

for an excuse to cut

flash sidelong, fury glittering

The monster…

his features to a more normal

Apparent meekness.

Apparent obedience.

All fake.

What’s going on?

he murmurs. “It’s

I just saw,

chair. She and Klempner eye-ball each other. After long seconds he says, “So what would you like to talk

something

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

thing? What do you

of her shoulder, just there.” He reaches back, tapping

was artistic? A painter?

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

regards her, then continues, “She always seemed to be wearing butterflies on herself somewhere... slippers,

sits back in her chair.

He sucks in his cheeks, looking amused. “What’s so surprising about

“Didn't have it

tone like a

to his. “Would

muses. “Perhaps the next time

sets. “Why

you

“Oh… What else?”

a butterfly

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

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

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

records… The missing persons file on my father.” Her hand is shaking. “Is that it? The

narrowing, then he turns his attention back to the

the photo. Charlotte passes it to him.

slides it under the grill

Something precious?

then sits staring

that the necklace you

as

him in the

“Yes, that’s Conners.”

still

But the

to notice. “When was it?

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

then swallows. “It's the only

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

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

if you want it, you

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

Charlotte's voice trembles. “Why do you

But your father gave it to your mother. Since she's not

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

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

hand from mine. “Why would you take

back, chews at a lip. “I used to

something I had nothing

“Quid pro quo. You give me something.

that really it?” asks

sneer flirting over his mouth, staring him

James stares back.

try to

did I

them then, “Why did it fail? Between you and my mother? Because she was afraid of

that,

“Couldn’t what?”

shrugs. “Mitch

supposed

no capacity

a blade. “While

sits back, folding his arms. “No, she

my

head tilts. “I’m not

“But she married him?”

necessary to love

you want to marry

didn’t get that far. But yes, I wanted her.

she didn’t want you.” Her voice drips

There was something else.

you deduce that she had no capacity to

she have left

sucks air through his

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

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

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

whispers. “I want the truth

aggression seems to drain from him. “And whatever led you

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