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!

ricochets over her face. “You wanted

put it that way,

your revenge on me? Because

face almost touching the grill. “You got it right the first

he saying

Admitting this?

wanted you?” she hisses. “Fallen in love with you? Is that what you mean? After the way you treated me when I was little? It’s been

poking a baton between his shoulders.

in the guard's stance; something in his

He dislikes Klempner?

Really dislikes him?

Something personal?

And Klempner’s face…

you go upsetting your visitors, you’ll not be getting any

excuse

eyes flash sidelong, fury glittering there.

The monster…

to a more normal expression; apparent passivity…

Apparent meekness.

Apparent obedience.

All fake.

What’s going on?

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

to think about what I just saw, but my thoughts

her chair. She and Klempner eye-ball each other. After long seconds he says, “So what would you like to talk

from her. “Will you tell me something about my

some far distance. “She had a

A thing? What

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

was artistic? A painter? A good

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

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

sits back in her

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

it down as

tone like a desert,

lift to his. “Would

he muses. “Perhaps the next time you come to see

sets. “Why not

you to

“Oh… What else?”

that distant look again. “She wore a necklace with one too, a butterfly that is. A little silver thing. Just a trinket, but she

the performance with a raised brow.

pulls something; the photograph, holding it up to the grill. “Is that it? The necklace. That she’s wearing

what are the chances? Where the hell did

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

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

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

it under the grill and Klempner takes

Something precious?

then sits staring

necklace

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

him in

“Yes, that’s Conners.”

you still

But the monosyllable

notice. “When was it?

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

“It's the only one

slip a hand over hers. Her flesh is icy. “It's a copy of

mine. She swings to James. “You're sure?”

if you want it, you can

Klempner sits silently gazing at the image. “I still have

trembles.

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

didn't let you

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

dragging her hand from mine. “Why

sits back, chews at a lip. “I used

I had nothing

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

really it?”

flirting over

James stares back.

try to out-stare a

did I hear

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

speaking. “It ended like that, yes. But... there was something about her well

“Couldn’t what?”

shrugs. “Mitch

supposed

had no capacity to

gives him a look like a blade. “While you do? You mean she didn't

back, folding his arms. “No,

loved my

head tilts. “I’m not convinced of

“But she married him?”

to love someone to

want to marry

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

she didn’t want you.”

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

you deduce that she

she have

air through

on the counter. “She knew I had you. She knew where you would be. But she never came for you. I believed she would. But she

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

“I thought you came to talk; to ask me what happened. Do you want

want the truth to be

him. “And whatever led you to think life is

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