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 a substitute for her? Is

could put it

what? To take your revenge on me?

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

is he saying

Admitting this?

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? It’s been

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

something in the guard's stance;

He dislikes Klempner?

Really dislikes him?

Something personal?

And Klempner’s face…

visitors, you’ll not be getting any more

excuse to cut his

glittering there. Just for

The monster…

features to a

Apparent meekness.

Apparent obedience.

All fake.

What’s going on?

on Charlotte’s. “Calm down,” he murmurs. “It’s past.” It’s the

I just saw, but my thoughts are

eye-ball each other. After long seconds he says, “So what would you like to talk

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

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

thing? What do you

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

artistic? A painter? A good

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

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

in her chair.

cheeks, looking

it down

like

lift to his. “Would

next time

face sets.

you to visit

“Oh… What else?”

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

she dives for her bag, scrabbling inside. Klempner watches the

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

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

on my father.” Her hand

his attention back to the photo.

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

the grill and Klempner takes

Something precious?

then sits staring

that the necklace you were talking

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

in

“Yes, that’s Conners.”

you still friends

the monosyllable

“When was it? Where

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

“It's the

flesh is icy. “It's a copy of the original. James can make you

to James.

you want it,

you.” Klempner sits silently gazing at the image. “I still have

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

gave it to your mother. Since she's

wavering, “I thought they didn't let

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

bolt upright, dragging her hand from mine. “Why would

lip.

I had nothing to

the photo. “Quid pro quo. You give

that really

his arms, a sneer flirting over

James stares back.

to out-stare a

did I

“Why did it fail? Between you and my mother? Because she was afraid of

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

“Couldn’t what?”

“Mitch

supposed to

had no capacity

“While you do? You mean she didn't love

back, folding his arms. “No,

loved my father

tilts. “I’m not convinced

“But she married him?”

to love someone to marry

you want

didn’t get that far. But yes, I wanted her. I wanted

didn’t want you.” Her

There was something else. Something stopping her from… from

that, you deduce that she had no

have

air through

folded arms resting on the counter. “She knew I had you. She knew where you would be. But

I take her hand again, curling warm

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

whispers. “I want the truth to be a

“And whatever led

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