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!

her face. “You wanted me as a substitute for her? Is

could put it that way,

To take your revenge on

touching the grill. “You got it right the first time. I wanted you

he

Admitting this?

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

poking a baton

something in the guard's stance; something

He dislikes Klempner?

Really dislikes him?

Something personal?

And Klempner’s face…

upsetting your visitors, you’ll

excuse to cut

sidelong, fury glittering

The monster…

schools his features to a more normal expression; apparent

Apparent meekness.

Apparent obedience.

All fake.

What’s going on?

down,” he murmurs.

what I just saw, but my thoughts

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

“Will you tell me something about my mother?”

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

thing? What

small tattoo on the back of her shoulder, just

was artistic? A painter? A good

very good. Very realistic.” He sucks at his teeth. “Almost eerily

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

sits back in her

sucks in his cheeks, looking amused. “What’s

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

like a desert,

lift to his. “Would you

he muses. “Perhaps the next time

sets. “Why not

will encourage you to

“Oh… What else?”

butterfly that is. A little silver thing. Just a trinket, but she was fond of

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

it up to

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

The missing persons file on my father.” Her hand is shaking.

narrowing, then he turns his attention back to the

Charlotte passes it to him.

under the grill and Klempner takes it

Something precious?

then sits staring at

that the necklace you were talking

is quiet as he looks

in

“Yes, that’s Conners.”

still

the monosyllable

doesn’t seem to notice. “When

before...” He holds up the photo. “Can I

flushes then swallows. “It's the only

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

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

you want

still have that necklace you

Charlotte's voice trembles. “Why do you

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

thought they didn't let

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

from mine. “Why would you

at a lip.

something I had nothing

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

that really

his arms, a sneer flirting over his

James stares back.

try to out-stare a

I hear

then, “Why did it fail? Between you and my mother? Because she

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

“Couldn’t what?”

shrugs. “Mitch was damaged

that supposed to

had no capacity to

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

back, folding his arms. “No, she

my father

tilts. “I’m not convinced

“But she married him?”

not actually necessary to love

want

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

didn’t want you.” Her

convinced of that either. There was something else. Something stopping her from… from

deduce that she had

would she have left

air through

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

white-faced, could be carved in stone. I take her hand again, curling warm fingers

what happened. Do

truth to

him. “And whatever led you to

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