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 as

put it

revenge

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

he saying all

Admitting this?

wanted you?” she hisses. “Fallen in love with you? Is that what you mean? After the

guard moves to stand behind Klempner, poking a baton between his shoulders. “Behave

guard's stance; something in

He dislikes Klempner?

Really dislikes him?

Something personal?

And Klempner’s face…

you’ll not be getting any more of

excuse to

eyes flash sidelong, fury glittering there. Just for

The monster…

he schools his features to a more normal expression;

Apparent meekness.

Apparent obedience.

All fake.

What’s going on?

Charlotte’s. “Calm down,” he murmurs. “It’s

what I just saw, but my thoughts are cut

chair. She and Klempner eye-ball each other. After long seconds he says, “So

tell me something

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

A thing? What

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

artistic? A

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

words. Klempner regards her, then continues, “She always seemed to be

sits back in

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

it down as a pyjamas kind

like a

eyes lift to his. “Would you

“Perhaps the next time you

sets. “Why not

encourage you to

“Oh… What else?”

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

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

pulls something; the photograph, holding it up to the grill. “Is that

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

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

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

to the guard who snaps fingers at the photo. Charlotte

slides it under the grill and Klempner takes it

Something precious?

then sits

necklace you were talking

Yes, it is.” His voice is quiet as he

in the

“Yes, that’s Conners.”

still friends

the monosyllable

doesn’t seem to notice. “When was

before...”

flushes then swallows. “It's the only one

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

to James. “You're

you want

at the image. “I still have that necklace you know. If

have it?” Charlotte's voice trembles. “Why

mother. Since she's

voice wavering, “I thought they didn't let you

here. But I can have it sent to

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

sits back, chews at a lip. “I

had nothing

then holds up the photo. “Quid pro quo. You give me something. I give you

really it?” asks

folds his arms, a sneer flirting

James stares back.

try to

I hear

the two of them then, “Why did it fail? Between you and my

pause before speaking. “It ended like that,

“Couldn’t what?”

“Mitch was

that supposed

had no

a blade. “While you do?

his arms.

my

head tilts. “I’m not convinced of

“But she married him?”

not actually necessary to love

want to marry

I wanted her. I wanted her to be

she didn’t want you.” Her voice

either. There was something else. Something stopping

from that, you deduce that she had no capacity to

have

sucks air through

resting on the counter. “She knew I had you. She knew where you would be. But

again, curling warm fingers around her cold ones. “You don't believe in softening the blow do

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

whispers. “I want the truth to be

drain from him. “And whatever led you

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