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!

wanted me as a substitute

put it

your revenge on me? Because she

touching the grill. “You got

he saying all

Admitting this?

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

behind Klempner, poking a baton between his

is something in the guard's stance;

He dislikes Klempner?

Really dislikes him?

Something personal?

And Klempner’s face…

If you go upsetting your visitors, you’ll not be

an excuse to cut

glittering there.

The monster…

features to a more

Apparent meekness.

Apparent obedience.

All fake.

What’s going on?

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

just saw, but my thoughts are

other. After long seconds he says, “So what would

from her. “Will you tell me something about my

some far distance. “She had a

thing? What

had a small tattoo on the back of her shoulder, just there.” He reaches back, tapping behind himself. “And she’d painted one

A painter?

his teeth. “Almost eerily so actually. She could have made a living as an artist

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

sits back in her

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

have it down as a pyjamas kind

tone like a desert, “Long

his. “Would

muses. “Perhaps the next time you come to

face sets. “Why

you to visit

“Oh… What else?”

a butterfly

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

the purse she pulls something; the photograph, holding it up to the grill.

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

file on my

his attention

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

under the grill and Klempner

Something precious?

then sits

the necklace

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

in the

“Yes, that’s Conners.”

you still friends

the monosyllable

to notice. “When was it? Where was

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

swallows. “It's the

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

tighten into mine. She swings to

yes, if you want it, you

sits silently gazing at the image. “I still have that necklace you

trembles.

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

let you keep things like that

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

from mine. “Why would you take that kind of trouble?

lip. “I used to hate

I had

stalls then holds up the photo. “Quid pro quo. You

really

arms, a sneer flirting over his mouth,

James stares back.

to out-stare a

did I hear

the two of them then, “Why did it fail? Between you

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

“Couldn’t what?”

shrugs. “Mitch

that supposed to mean.

had no

“While you do? You mean she didn't

his arms. “No,

my

“I’m not

“But she married him?”

to love someone to

want to marry

But yes, I wanted

you.” Her

was something else. Something stopping her from…

that

have left you at

sucks air through

arms resting on the counter. “She knew I had you. She knew where you would

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

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

whispers. “I want the truth to

“And whatever led you to think life is like

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