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!

face. “You wanted

it that way,

your revenge on me? Because she left

arms, his face almost touching the grill. “You got it right the

is he saying all

Admitting this?

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

poking a baton between his shoulders.

something in the guard's stance;

He dislikes Klempner?

Really dislikes him?

Something personal?

And Klempner’s face…

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

excuse to

flash sidelong, fury glittering there. Just for a

The monster…

schools his features to a more normal expression; apparent

Apparent meekness.

Apparent obedience.

All fake.

What’s going on?

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

think about what I just saw, but my

shuffles in her chair. She and Klempner eye-ball each other. After long seconds he says, “So what would you like to

me something about my mother?” There’s pleading

eyes unfocusing, seemingly looking into some far

A thing? What do you

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

artistic? A

I saw of her work was very good. Very realistic.” He sucks at his teeth. “Almost eerily so actually.

run out of words. Klempner regards her, then continues, “She always seemed to be wearing butterflies

sits back in

in his cheeks, looking amused.

have it down as

a tone like a

eyes lift to his. “Would you tell me about

“Perhaps the next time you

sets.

you

“Oh… What else?”

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

dives for her bag, scrabbling inside. Klempner watches the performance with a raised brow. He

to the

looking more closely. “Well, what are

file on my father.”

he turns his attention back to the photo. “I'd like a closer

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

it under the grill

Something precious?

sits staring at

the necklace

as he

him in

“Yes, that’s Conners.”

you still

the

“When was it?

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

swallows. “It's the only one I

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

swings to James.

want it, you can

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

Charlotte's voice trembles.

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

they didn't let you keep things

don't. I didn’t say I have it here. But I can have it sent to you. Perhaps at those Haswell offices where you

mine. “Why

chews at a lip. “I used to hate you.

something I had nothing to do

up the photo. “Quid pro quo. You give me something. I give

really it?” asks

folds his arms, a sneer flirting

James stares back.

to out-stare

did I hear

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

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

“Couldn’t what?”

shrugs. “Mitch was damaged

that supposed to

had no capacity

blade. “While you do? You mean she

back, folding his arms.

loved my

tilts. “I’m not convinced

“But she married him?”

necessary to love someone

you want to marry

wanted her. I

want you.” Her voice drips

was something else. Something stopping her from… from

you deduce that she had no capacity

have left you at

air through

had you. She knew

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

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

the truth to be a

“And whatever led

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