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!

wanted me as a substitute for her? Is

put it that

take your revenge on me? Because she left

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

is he saying all

Admitting this?

with you? Is that what you mean? After the way you treated me when I was little? It’s been over twenty

moves to stand behind Klempner, poking a baton

is something in the guard's

He dislikes Klempner?

Really dislikes him?

Something personal?

And Klempner’s face…

upsetting your visitors, you’ll not be

for an excuse to cut

glittering there. Just

The monster…

a more normal expression; apparent passivity… “Yes,

Apparent meekness.

Apparent obedience.

All fake.

What’s going on?

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

just saw, but my thoughts are

eye-ball each other. After long seconds he says, “So what

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

some far

What

the back of her shoulder, just

A painter?

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

Klempner regards her, then continues, “She always seemed to

sits back in her chair.

cheeks, looking amused. “What’s

a bit. “Didn't have it down as a pyjamas kind of

a tone like a desert, “Long

to his. “Would

muses. “Perhaps the next time

face sets.

will 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

and closing. Then she dives for her bag, scrabbling inside. Klempner watches the performance with a raised brow. He glances at me

holding it up to the grill. “Is that it?

what are the chances? Where the hell did you get hold

The missing persons file on my father.” Her

his attention

fingers at the photo. Charlotte passes it to

grill and Klempner takes it

Something precious?

sits staring

the necklace you were talking

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

him in the

“Yes, that’s Conners.”

still

the monosyllable

to notice. “When was it?

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

swallows. “It's the only one I

slip a hand over hers. Her flesh is icy. “It's a copy of the original. James can make

swings to James.

if you want it, you can

have that necklace you know. If you like, you can have

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

your mother.

let you

I have it here. But I can have it sent to you. Perhaps at

“Why would you take that

lip.

had nothing to do

holds up the photo. “Quid pro

that really it?” asks

sneer flirting over his mouth,

James stares back.

try to out-stare a

I hear

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

for a long pause before speaking. “It ended like that, yes. But... there was

“Couldn’t what?”

shrugs. “Mitch

supposed to mean.

had no

a look like a blade. “While you do? You mean

sits back, folding his arms. “No, she

loved my father

“I’m not convinced

“But she married him?”

to love someone

you want to marry

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

you.” Her voice drips

There was something else. Something stopping her from…

deduce that she

she have left you

air

had you. She knew where you would be.

curling warm fingers around her cold ones. “You don't believe in softening the blow do

what happened. Do you

the truth to be a

seems to drain from him. “And whatever

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