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!

“You wanted me

could put it that

your revenge on me? Because she

leans forward on folded arms, his face almost touching the grill. “You got it right the first time. I wanted

he saying all

Admitting this?

“Fallen in love with you? Is that what you mean? After the way you treated me when I was

moves to stand behind Klempner, poking a baton

in the guard's

He dislikes Klempner?

Really dislikes him?

Something personal?

And Klempner’s face…

your visitors, you’ll not be getting

excuse

eyes flash sidelong, fury glittering there.

The monster…

he schools his features to a more normal expression; apparent

Apparent meekness.

Apparent obedience.

All fake.

What’s going on?

a hand on Charlotte’s. “Calm down,” he murmurs.

to think about what I just saw, but my thoughts

and Klempner eye-ball each other. After long seconds he says,

you tell me something about my mother?” There’s pleading

seemingly looking into some far distance. “She had

A thing? What do

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

A

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

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

in

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

mumbles a bit. “Didn't have it down

a tone like a desert,

eyes lift to his. “Would you tell me

“Perhaps the next time you come to

face sets.

will encourage you to

“Oh… What else?”

again. “She wore a necklace with one too, a butterfly that

she dives for her bag, scrabbling inside. Klempner watches the performance with a raised brow. He glances at me with a questioning eye. I

it up to the grill.

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

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

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

photo. Charlotte passes it

slides it under the grill and Klempner takes it

Something precious?

then sits staring

the necklace you were

as he looks

him in

“Yes, that’s Conners.”

still

But the monosyllable lacks

“When was it?

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

then swallows. “It's the only

“It's

to

want it, you can

still have that

Charlotte's voice trembles. “Why do you have

father gave it to your mother. Since she's not here, I suppose that makes

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

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

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

sits back, chews at a lip. “I used to

something I had nothing to do

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

that really

folds his arms, a sneer flirting over his

James stares back.

try to out-stare

did I hear

it fail? Between you and my

eyes for a long pause before speaking. “It ended like that, yes. But...

“Couldn’t what?”

shrugs. “Mitch was

supposed to

no capacity to

“While you do?

back, folding his arms. “No, she

loved my father

head tilts. “I’m not convinced of

“But she married him?”

to love someone

want to

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

didn’t want you.”

either. There was something else. Something stopping her from…

that she had

have left you at

air through

knew I had you. She knew

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

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

“I want the truth

drain from him. “And whatever led you to think life is

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