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!

Shock ricochets over her face. “You wanted me as

it that way,

To take your revenge on me? Because she left

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

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

poking a baton

the guard's stance;

He dislikes Klempner?

Really dislikes him?

Something personal?

And Klempner’s face…

visitors, you’ll not

an excuse to cut

fury glittering there. Just for

The monster…

schools his features to a

Apparent meekness.

Apparent obedience.

All fake.

What’s going on?

a hand on Charlotte’s. “Calm down,” he murmurs.

I just saw,

each other. After long

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

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

What do you

shoulder, just there.” He reaches back,

artistic? A painter?

Very realistic.” He sucks at his teeth. “Almost eerily so actually. She could have

out of words. Klempner regards her, then continues, “She

back in

sucks in his cheeks,

“Didn't have it down as a

like

to his. “Would you

the next time you

face sets. “Why not

will encourage you to

“Oh… What else?”

a butterfly that is. A

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

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

what are

The missing persons file on my father.”

her, his eyes narrowing, then he turns his attention back to the

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

under the grill and Klempner

Something precious?

then sits

that the necklace you were

is quiet as he looks up. “Your father gave it

in the

“Yes, that’s Conners.”

still friends

the monosyllable

notice. “When was it?

end, before... before...”

then swallows. “It's the only

hand over hers. Her flesh is icy. “It's a copy of the original. James

swings to James. “You're

want it, you

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

voice trembles.

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

let

say I have it here. But I can have it sent to you. Perhaps at those Haswell offices where you spend so

from mine. “Why would you take that kind

at a lip. “I

had

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

really it?” asks

his arms, a sneer flirting over his mouth, staring him

James stares back.

try to out-stare

did I hear

them then, “Why did it fail? Between you

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

“Couldn’t what?”

“Mitch was damaged

that supposed

no capacity

like a blade. “While you do? You mean she

folding his

my father

head tilts. “I’m not convinced of

“But she married him?”

not actually necessary to love someone

you want

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

want you.”

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

from that, you deduce that she had

would she have left you

sucks air through his

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

I take her hand again, curling warm

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

“I want the truth to be

him. “And whatever led you

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