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 substitute for her?

it

To take your revenge on me? Because she left

leans forward on folded arms, his face almost touching the grill. “You got it right the

is he

Admitting this?

“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 over twenty years. You’re obsessed. You’re fucking

guard moves to stand behind Klempner, poking a baton between his

guard's stance;

He dislikes Klempner?

Really dislikes him?

Something personal?

And Klempner’s face…

upsetting your visitors, you’ll not be getting

for an excuse to cut his

fury glittering there. Just

The monster…

his features to a

Apparent meekness.

Apparent obedience.

All fake.

What’s going on?

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

what I just saw, but

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

“Will you tell me something about my

looking into some far distance. “She had a

What

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 one on

artistic? A painter? A

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

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

sits back in her chair.

in his cheeks, looking amused. “What’s

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

tone like a desert, “Long

eyes lift to his. “Would

muses. “Perhaps the next

sets.

will encourage you to

“Oh… What else?”

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

back, her 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

something; the photograph, holding it up to the grill. “Is that it? The necklace. That she’s

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

missing persons file on my father.” Her hand

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

the grill and Klempner takes

Something precious?

sits

the necklace you were

His voice is quiet as he

him in

“Yes, that’s Conners.”

you still

But the

“When

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

then swallows. “It's the

icy. “It's a copy of

mine. She swings to James. “You're

you want

at the image. “I still have

Charlotte's voice trembles. “Why do

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

they didn't let you keep things like that

say I have it here. But I can have it sent to

her hand from mine. “Why would you take that kind of

a lip. “I used to hate

had nothing to do

photo. “Quid pro quo. You give

really it?”

flirting

James stares back.

try to

did I hear

between the two of them then, “Why did it fail? Between you and my mother? Because she was

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

“Couldn’t what?”

“Mitch was damaged

supposed to

had no capacity

“While you do? You

back, folding his arms.

my father

“I’m not convinced of

“But she married him?”

to love someone to marry

want to marry

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

you.” Her voice drips

not convinced of that either. There was something else. Something stopping her from…

deduce that she had

she have left you

sucks air through

on the counter. “She knew I had you. She knew where you would be. But she never came for you. I

warm fingers around

happened. Do you want the truth or do

want the truth to be a fairy

drain from him. “And whatever led

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