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!

recoils. Shock ricochets over her face. “You wanted me as a substitute for her? Is

it

To take your revenge

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

he saying

Admitting this?

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

moves to stand behind Klempner, poking a baton between his

in the guard's stance;

He dislikes Klempner?

Really dislikes him?

Something personal?

And Klempner’s face…

your visitors, you’ll not be getting

an excuse to

fury glittering there. Just for a

The monster…

his features to a more

Apparent meekness.

Apparent obedience.

All fake.

What’s going on?

“Calm down,” he

think about what I just saw, but my

Klempner eye-ball each other. After long

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

eyes unfocusing, seemingly looking into some far distance. “She

What

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

was artistic? A painter?

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

then continues,

sits back in

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

a bit. “Didn't have it down

like

to his. “Would you tell me about

muses. “Perhaps the next time you come to

face sets.

encourage you

“Oh… What else?”

a butterfly that is. A little silver thing. Just a trinket,

bag, scrabbling inside. Klempner watches the

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

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

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

eyes narrowing, then he turns his attention back to the photo. “I'd

snaps fingers at the photo. Charlotte passes it to him. He gives it a cursory inspection, then

it under the grill and Klempner

Something precious?

then sits

the necklace

as he looks up. “Your father gave it to

him in

“Yes, that’s Conners.”

you still friends

But the

“When was it? Where

“Towards the end, before... before...” He

flushes then swallows. “It's the

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

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

yes, if you want it, you can have

sits silently gazing at the image. “I still have that necklace you know. If you like, you can

trembles. “Why

long story. But your father gave it to your mother. Since she's

thought they didn't let

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

sits bolt upright, dragging her hand from mine. “Why would

sits back, chews at a lip. “I

I had nothing to do

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

that really it?”

arms, a sneer flirting over his mouth,

James stares back.

to out-stare

did I

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

holds her eyes for a long pause before speaking. “It ended like that,

“Couldn’t what?”

shrugs. “Mitch was

supposed to

had no capacity to

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

folding his arms. “No,

my father

tilts. “I’m not convinced

“But she married him?”

not actually necessary to love

want

that far. But yes, I wanted her. I wanted her to

you.”

something else.

you deduce that she had no capacity to

have left you at

sucks air

you. She knew

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

me what happened. Do you want the truth or do you

“I want the truth to be a

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

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