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!

ricochets over her face. “You wanted me as a

could put it that way,

your revenge

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

is he

Admitting this?

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 a baton between his shoulders. “Behave

something in the guard's

He dislikes Klempner?

Really dislikes him?

Something personal?

And Klempner’s face…

visitors, you’ll not be getting any

for an excuse to cut his

flash sidelong, fury glittering there. Just for a

The monster…

schools his features to a more normal expression; apparent passivity… “Yes, Mr

Apparent meekness.

Apparent obedience.

All fake.

What’s going on?

down,” he murmurs. “It’s past.” It’s

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

After long seconds he says, “So

you tell me something about

some far distance. “She had a thing

A thing? What

her shoulder, just there.” He reaches back, tapping behind himself. “And she’d painted

artistic? A

her work was very good. Very realistic.” He sucks at his teeth. “Almost eerily

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

back in

pyjamas.” He sucks in his cheeks, looking amused. “What’s so

have it down

a tone like

lift to his. “Would you tell me about

“Perhaps the next time you

sets.

will encourage you to

“Oh… What else?”

necklace with one too, a butterfly that is.

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

photograph, holding it up to the grill. “Is

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

my father.” Her hand is

at her, his eyes narrowing, then he turns his attention back to the

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

grill and Klempner takes

Something precious?

then sits

that the necklace you

as he

in the

“Yes, that’s Conners.”

you still

But the monosyllable

notice. “When was it? Where was

words are slow. “Towards the end, before... before...”

swallows. “It's the only one

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

tighten into mine. She swings to James.

yes, if you want

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

Charlotte's voice trembles. “Why do

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

didn't let you keep things like

I didn’t say I have it here. But I can have it sent to

hand from mine. “Why would you take that kind of trouble?

chews at a lip. “I used to

something I had

photo. “Quid pro quo. You give

really it?”

sneer flirting over his mouth, staring

James stares back.

try to out-stare a

did I hear

fail? Between you and my mother? Because she was afraid

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

“Couldn’t what?”

shrugs. “Mitch was damaged

that supposed to

no capacity

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

sits back, folding his arms.

my

head tilts. “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

she didn’t want you.” Her voice drips

of that either. There was something

deduce that she had no capacity

she have left

sucks air

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

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

talk; to ask me what happened.

whispers. “I want the truth

“And whatever led you to think

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