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!

“You wanted me as a substitute

could put it

what? To take your revenge on me? Because

leans 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?

“Fallen in love with you? Is that what you

Klempner, poking a baton between his

something in the guard's stance; something

He dislikes Klempner?

Really dislikes him?

Something personal?

And Klempner’s face…

you’ll not be getting any more of

an excuse to

flash sidelong, fury glittering

The monster…

schools his features to a more

Apparent meekness.

Apparent obedience.

All fake.

What’s going on?

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

about what I just saw, but my thoughts are

shuffles in her chair. She and Klempner eye-ball each other. After long seconds

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

some far distance. “She had a thing for

What do

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

was artistic? A painter?

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

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

sits back in her chair.

sucks in his cheeks,

“Didn't have it down

a tone like

lift to his. “Would you tell

muses. “Perhaps the next time you

sets. “Why not

will encourage you to visit me

“Oh… What else?”

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

watches the performance with a raised brow. He glances

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

glances, then stiffens, looking more closely. “Well, what are the chances? Where the hell did

The missing persons file on my father.” Her hand is shaking. “Is that it? The

glances at her, his eyes narrowing, then he turns his attention back to

snaps fingers at the photo. Charlotte passes it to

under the grill and Klempner takes

Something precious?

then sits staring

necklace you were talking

is.” His voice is quiet as he looks up.

him in the

“Yes, that’s Conners.”

still

But the

“When was it?

before...” He holds up the

swallows. “It's the only one

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

She swings to James. “You're

yes, if you want it, you

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

trembles. “Why do

father gave it to your mother. Since she's not here, I suppose that makes it rightfully

wavering, “I thought they didn't let you keep

it sent to you. Perhaps at those Haswell

hand from mine. “Why would you

chews at a lip. “I used

something I had nothing

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

that really it?” asks

his arms, a sneer flirting over his mouth, staring

James stares back.

to out-stare

I hear

of 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.

“Couldn’t what?”

shrugs. “Mitch was damaged

supposed to mean.

had no

gives him a look like a blade. “While you do? You

sits back, folding his

my father

tilts. “I’m not

“But she married him?”

necessary to love someone

you want to marry

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

want you.” Her voice

There was something else. Something

deduce that

she have left you at

air through his

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

be carved in stone. I take her hand again, curling warm fingers around her cold

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

want the truth

him. “And whatever led you

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