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!

over her face. “You wanted me as a substitute for her?

put it that way,

what? To take your revenge on me? Because she

almost touching the grill. “You got it right the first time. I wanted you as

is he saying

Admitting this?

would have wanted you?” she hisses. “Fallen in love with you? Is that

stand behind Klempner, poking a

guard's stance; something in

He dislikes Klempner?

Really dislikes him?

Something personal?

And Klempner’s face…

your visitors, you’ll not

excuse to cut

glittering there. Just

The monster…

before he schools his features to a

Apparent meekness.

Apparent obedience.

All fake.

What’s going on?

lays a hand on Charlotte’s. “Calm down,” he murmurs. “It’s past.” It’s the

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

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

you tell me something about

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

A thing? What do

a small tattoo on the back of her shoulder, just there.”

artistic? A painter? A

her work was very good. Very realistic.” He sucks at his teeth. “Almost eerily so actually. She could have made

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

in her

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

it down as a pyjamas

tone like a

to his. “Would you

next time

sets.

you to visit

“Oh… What else?”

wore a necklace with one too, a butterfly that is. A little silver thing.

watches the performance with a raised brow. He

the photograph, holding it up to the

are the

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

glances at her, his eyes narrowing, then he turns his

fingers at the photo. Charlotte passes it to him. He

grill and Klempner takes it

Something precious?

then sits

that the necklace you

voice is quiet as he

him in the

“Yes, that’s Conners.”

you still

But the monosyllable lacks

seem to notice. “When was it? Where was

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

flushes then swallows. “It's the only one I

icy. “It's a copy

to

you want it, you

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

trembles.

long story. But your father gave it to your mother. Since

they didn't let you keep things

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

“Why would you take

lip.

had nothing to do

up the photo. “Quid

that really it?”

folds his arms, a sneer flirting over his mouth, staring

James stares back.

try to out-stare a

did I hear

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

her eyes for a long pause before speaking. “It ended like that, yes. But... there was something about her well before then. As

“Couldn’t what?”

shrugs. “Mitch

supposed to mean.

had no capacity to

gives him a look like a blade. “While you do?

his

loved my father

tilts. “I’m not convinced

“But she married him?”

not actually necessary to

you want

I wanted her.

you.” Her

convinced of that either. There was something else. Something stopping her from… from

from that, you deduce that she had no capacity to

have left you at

sucks air through

I had you. She knew where you would be.

curling warm fingers around her cold ones. “You don't believe

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

“I want the truth to be a

from him. “And whatever led you

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