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

could put it

revenge on me? Because she left

his face almost touching the grill. “You got it right the first time. I wanted you as a

he

Admitting this?

have wanted you?” she hisses. “Fallen in love with you? Is that what you mean? After

moves to stand behind Klempner, poking a baton between his

the guard's

He dislikes Klempner?

Really dislikes him?

Something personal?

And Klempner’s face…

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

excuse to cut his

eyes flash sidelong, fury glittering there. Just for a

The monster…

before he schools his features to a

Apparent meekness.

Apparent obedience.

All fake.

What’s going on?

he murmurs.

to think about what I just saw, but

After long seconds he says, “So what would you like

“Will you tell me something about my

inclines, eyes unfocusing, seemingly looking into some far distance. “She had a

What do

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

artistic? A

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

her, then continues, “She always seemed to be wearing

sits back in

He sucks in his cheeks, looking amused. “What’s so surprising about

mumbles a bit. “Didn't have it

like a

lift to his. “Would

“Perhaps the next

face sets.

encourage you

“Oh… What else?”

necklace with one too, a butterfly that is. A little silver thing.

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

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

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

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

at her, his eyes narrowing, then he turns his attention back to the photo. “I'd

the guard who snaps fingers at the photo. Charlotte passes it to him. He

under the grill and Klempner takes

Something precious?

sits staring

the necklace you were

quiet as he looks up. “Your father gave it

him in the

“Yes, that’s Conners.”

still friends

But the monosyllable

seem to notice. “When was it?

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

flushes then swallows. “It's

icy. “It's a copy of the

tighten into mine. She swings to James. “You're

want

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

Charlotte's voice trembles. “Why do you

your mother. Since she's

thought they didn't let you keep things like

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

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

lip. “I used to hate you.

had nothing

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

really it?” asks

folds his arms, a sneer flirting over his mouth, staring him

James stares back.

to out-stare

did I

then, “Why did it fail? Between

a long pause before speaking. “It ended like that, yes.

“Couldn’t what?”

shrugs. “Mitch

supposed

had no capacity to

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

sits back, folding his

loved my father

“I’m not convinced

“But she married him?”

to love

want to marry

But yes, I wanted her. I

you.”

that either. There was something else. Something

that, you deduce that

would she have

sucks air

leans forward again, folded arms resting on the counter. “She knew I had you. She knew where

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

you came to talk; to ask me what happened. Do

want the truth to

from him. “And whatever

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