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

could put it

To take your revenge on me? Because she left

on folded arms, his face almost touching the grill. “You got it right the first time. I wanted you as a substitute for

he saying all

Admitting this?

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 I was little?

guard moves to stand behind Klempner, poking

the guard's stance; something in

He dislikes Klempner?

Really dislikes him?

Something personal?

And Klempner’s face…

If you go upsetting your visitors, you’ll

for an excuse to cut his

glittering there. Just for

The monster…

before he schools his features to a more normal expression;

Apparent meekness.

Apparent obedience.

All fake.

What’s going on?

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

I just saw,

each other. After long seconds he

from her. “Will you tell me something about

seemingly looking into some far distance. “She had a thing

What

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

was artistic? A

was very good. Very realistic.” He sucks at his teeth. “Almost eerily so

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

in her chair.

cheeks, looking amused. “What’s so surprising

it down as a pyjamas kind

a tone like a desert,

eyes lift to his. “Would you tell me

muses. “Perhaps the next time you

face sets. “Why not

encourage you to visit

“Oh… What else?”

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

scrabbling inside. Klempner watches the performance

up to

blinks, glances, then stiffens, looking more closely. “Well, what are the chances? Where the

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

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

snaps fingers at the photo. Charlotte

slides it under the grill and Klempner

Something precious?

then sits staring at

that the necklace you were

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

in

“Yes, that’s Conners.”

still friends

But the monosyllable

doesn’t seem to notice. “When was it?

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

swallows. “It's

flesh is icy. “It's a

swings to

you want it, you can have

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

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

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

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

But I can have it sent to you. Perhaps

“Why would you take that kind of trouble?

lip. “I used to hate you. That's

I had nothing

“Quid

really it?”

arms, a sneer flirting over his

James stares back.

to out-stare a

did I hear

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

that, yes. But... there was something about her well

“Couldn’t what?”

shrugs. “Mitch was damaged

that supposed to

had no

look like a blade. “While you do? You

his

loved my

head tilts. “I’m

“But she married him?”

necessary to love someone

want

But yes, I wanted her. I wanted

want you.” Her voice

not convinced of that either. There was something else. Something stopping her from… from

that, you deduce that she had no

would she have left you at

sucks air through his

again, folded arms resting on the counter. “She knew I had you. She knew where you would be. But she never came for you. I believed she would.

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

happened. Do you want the truth

want the truth to be a

seems to drain from him. “And whatever led you to

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