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? Is

put it

take your revenge on me? Because she left

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

is he saying

Admitting this?

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

behind Klempner, poking a

guard's stance; something in

He dislikes Klempner?

Really dislikes him?

Something personal?

And Klempner’s face…

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

excuse to

sidelong, fury glittering there. Just for

The monster…

his features to a more normal expression; apparent passivity…

Apparent meekness.

Apparent obedience.

All fake.

What’s going on?

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

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

After

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

some far

A thing? What

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

was artistic? A painter?

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

regards her, then continues, “She always seemed

back in her chair.

sucks in his cheeks, looking amused.

it down as a pyjamas kind of

tone like a desert, “Long

his. “Would

“Perhaps the next time you come to see

face sets. “Why not

you

“Oh… What else?”

too, a butterfly that is. A little silver thing. Just a trinket, but she was fond of

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

the photograph, holding it up to the grill. “Is

closely. “Well, what are the chances?

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

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

at the photo. Charlotte passes

slides it under the grill and Klempner takes it

Something precious?

then sits staring

that the necklace you were talking

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

in the

“Yes, that’s Conners.”

you still

But the

doesn’t seem to notice. “When was it?

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

flushes then swallows. “It's the

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

tighten into mine. She swings to James. “You're sure?” He nods

if you want

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

trembles.

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

wavering, “I thought they didn't let you keep things like that

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

mine. “Why would you take that kind of

back, chews at a lip. “I used

something I had

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

that really

his arms, a sneer flirting over his

James stares back.

to out-stare a

I hear

“Why did it fail? Between you and

“It ended like that, yes. But... there

“Couldn’t what?”

“Mitch was

supposed

no capacity

“While you do? You mean she

back, folding his

loved my father

head tilts. “I’m not convinced of

“But she married him?”

actually necessary to

want to

wanted her. I wanted her to

she didn’t want you.”

was something else. Something stopping her from… from giving

you deduce that she

have

sucks air through his

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

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

to ask me what happened. Do you want

truth to be a

drain from him. “And whatever led you to think life is

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