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

put it

what? To take your revenge on

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

is he

Admitting this?

would have 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

behind Klempner, poking a

something in the guard's stance; something in his

He dislikes Klempner?

Really dislikes him?

Something personal?

And Klempner’s face…

your visitors, you’ll not be getting any more

an excuse to cut

flash sidelong, fury glittering there. Just

The monster…

before he schools his features to a more normal expression; apparent

Apparent meekness.

Apparent obedience.

All fake.

What’s going on?

“Calm down,” he murmurs. “It’s past.”

about what I just saw, but my thoughts

After

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

into some far distance.

A thing? What

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

artistic? A painter? A good

He sucks at his teeth. “Almost eerily so actually. She could have made a living as an artist had she chosen that

continues, “She always seemed to be

sits back in

in his cheeks, looking amused. “What’s

mumbles a bit. “Didn't have it

a tone like a desert,

his. “Would you tell me about

next time you come to

face sets. “Why

you

“Oh… What else?”

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

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

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

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

file on my father.” Her hand is shaking. “Is that it? The necklace

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

fingers at the photo. Charlotte

it under the grill and Klempner

Something precious?

then sits staring at

necklace you were talking

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

him in

“Yes, that’s Conners.”

you still

But the

doesn’t seem to notice. “When was it? Where was

the end, before... before...” He holds up the photo.

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

is icy. “It's

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

yes, if you want

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

voice trembles. “Why do you

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

“I thought they didn't let

didn’t say I have it here. But I can have it sent to you. Perhaps at those Haswell offices

her hand from mine. “Why would you take that kind of trouble?

lip. “I used to hate

something I had

holds up the photo. “Quid pro quo. You give me

really it?” asks

flirting over his mouth, staring

James stares back.

to out-stare

did I

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

that, yes. But...

“Couldn’t what?”

“Mitch was damaged

supposed

had no capacity

like a blade. “While you do?

folding his arms. “No,

loved my

tilts. “I’m not convinced of

“But she married him?”

necessary to

you want

yes, I wanted her. I

want you.” Her voice drips

either. There was something

deduce that she had

have left you

air through

knew I had you. She knew where you would be. But she never came

white-faced, could be carved in stone. I take her hand again, curling warm fingers around her cold ones. “You don't believe

inhales. “I thought you came to talk; to ask me what happened. Do you want the truth or do

truth to be a fairy

aggression seems to drain from him. “And whatever

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