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!

her face. “You wanted me as a substitute

put it

To take your revenge on me? Because

touching the grill. “You got it right the first time.

he

Admitting this?

too, her face almost meeting his 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 me when

to stand behind Klempner, poking a baton between his

the guard's stance; something

He dislikes Klempner?

Really dislikes him?

Something personal?

And Klempner’s face…

your visitors, you’ll not be getting any more of

an excuse to cut his

glittering there. Just

The monster…

schools his features to a more normal expression; apparent passivity…

Apparent meekness.

Apparent obedience.

All fake.

What’s going on?

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

I just

After long seconds he says, “So what

me something about my mother?” There’s pleading in her

head inclines, eyes unfocusing, seemingly looking into some far

A thing? What

butterflies. She had a small tattoo on the back of her shoulder, just there.” He reaches

was artistic? A painter?

his teeth. “Almost

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

sits back in

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

it down as a pyjamas kind of

a tone like

eyes lift to his. “Would

“Perhaps the next time you

sets. “Why not

will encourage you to visit me

“Oh… What else?”

one too, a butterfly that is. A little silver thing. Just a trinket, but she

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

the purse she pulls something; the photograph, holding it up to the grill.

more closely. “Well, what are the chances? Where the hell did you get hold

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

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

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

the grill and Klempner takes

Something precious?

sits staring at

that the necklace you were talking

is.” His voice is quiet as he looks up. “Your father gave it to

him in the

“Yes, that’s Conners.”

still friends

But the

to notice. “When was

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

swallows. “It's

flesh is icy. “It's a copy of the original. James can make you

into mine. She swings to

if you want it,

silently gazing at the image. “I still have

trembles. “Why do you have

to your mother. Since she's not here, I suppose that

wavering, “I thought they didn't let you

don't. I didn’t say I have it here. But I can have it sent to you. Perhaps at those Haswell offices where you spend so much

“Why would

lip. “I used

I had nothing

photo. “Quid pro

really

arms, a sneer flirting over

James stares back.

to

I

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

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

“Couldn’t what?”

shrugs. “Mitch was damaged

supposed to mean.

no capacity

blade. “While

folding his arms. “No, she

loved my

tilts. “I’m not convinced of

“But she married him?”

to love

you want to

wanted her. I wanted her to be with

you.”

that either. There was something else. Something

that she

would she have left

air

“She knew I had you. She knew where you would be.

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

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

the truth to be a

seems to drain from him. “And whatever led you

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