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 me as a substitute for

put it that way,

revenge on me? Because she

“You got it right the first time. I wanted you as a

he

Admitting this?

face almost meeting his save for the barrier. “You imagine I would have wanted you?” she hisses. “Fallen in love with you? Is that what you

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

the guard's stance; something

He dislikes Klempner?

Really dislikes him?

Something personal?

And Klempner’s face…

visitors, you’ll not be getting any

an excuse to

flash sidelong, fury glittering

The monster…

schools his features to a more normal expression; apparent

Apparent meekness.

Apparent obedience.

All fake.

What’s going on?

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

about what I just saw, but my

She and Klempner eye-ball each other. After long

you tell me something about my mother?” There’s pleading

eyes unfocusing, seemingly looking into some far distance.

thing? What

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

A painter?

sucks at his teeth. “Almost eerily so actually. She could have

Klempner regards her, then continues, “She always seemed

sits back in her

sucks in his cheeks, looking amused.

“Didn't have it down as a pyjamas kind

like a desert,

his. “Would you tell me about

muses. “Perhaps the next time

sets. “Why

encourage you to visit me

“Oh… What else?”

necklace with one too, a butterfly that is. A little silver thing. Just a trinket, but she

scrabbling inside. Klempner watches the performance with a raised brow. He glances at me with a questioning eye. I shrug. He avoids

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

what are the chances? Where the hell did you

it in some old records… The missing persons file on my father.” Her

then he turns his attention back to the photo.

photo. Charlotte passes it to him. He gives it a

it under the grill and

Something precious?

sits staring at

that the necklace

is quiet as he looks up. “Your father gave

him in

“Yes, that’s Conners.”

you still

the monosyllable lacks

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

before...” He holds up the

then swallows. “It's

flesh is icy. “It's a copy of

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

if you want it,

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

trembles.

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

let you keep

have it here. But I can have it sent to

hand from mine. “Why would you take that kind

lip. “I used to hate you. That's

something I had nothing to do

“Quid pro quo. You give me something. I give you

that really it?”

a sneer flirting over his mouth, staring

James stares back.

try to out-stare

I

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

a long pause before speaking. “It ended like that, yes. But... there was something about her well before then. As though

“Couldn’t what?”

“Mitch

that supposed

had no

a look like a blade. “While

sits back, folding his arms.

loved my

tilts. “I’m not convinced of

“But she married him?”

actually necessary to love

you want

wanted her. I

want you.” Her voice drips

was something else. Something stopping

from that, you deduce that she

have left

air through his

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

in stone. I take her hand again, curling warm fingers

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

truth to be a fairy

“And whatever led you to think life is like

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