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 for

put it that way,

revenge on me? Because she

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

is he

Admitting this?

leans forward too, her face almost meeting his save for the barrier. “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.

moves to stand behind Klempner, poking a baton between

guard's stance; something

He dislikes Klempner?

Really dislikes him?

Something personal?

And Klempner’s face…

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

for an excuse

flash sidelong, fury glittering there. Just for

The monster…

schools his features to a more normal

Apparent meekness.

Apparent obedience.

All fake.

What’s going on?

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

I just

After long seconds he says, “So

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

looking into some far distance. “She had a thing

What do

of her shoulder, just

was artistic? A painter?

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

then continues, “She always seemed to be wearing butterflies on herself somewhere... slippers,

sits back in her

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

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

like

to his. “Would

“Perhaps the next time you

sets. “Why not

will encourage you to visit

“Oh… What else?”

that distant look again. “She wore a necklace with one too, a butterfly that is. A

dives for her bag, scrabbling inside. Klempner watches the performance with a raised brow. He glances at me with a questioning eye.

it up to the grill. “Is

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

some old records… The missing persons file on my father.” Her hand is shaking. “Is that it? The necklace she’s

eyes narrowing, then he turns his attention back to the photo. “I'd like a closer

the photo. Charlotte passes it

the grill

Something precious?

sits staring

the necklace

His voice is quiet as he looks

in

“Yes, that’s Conners.”

still

But the monosyllable lacks

doesn’t seem to notice. “When

before...”

“It's the

“It's a copy of the original.

to James. “You're sure?” He

you want it, you

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

Charlotte's voice trembles. “Why do you have

your father gave it to your mother. Since she's

let you keep

it sent to

bolt upright, dragging her hand from mine. “Why would you take that kind of trouble? You

at a lip. “I used to hate you.

had nothing to do

“Quid pro quo.

really it?”

a sneer flirting

James stares back.

try to out-stare a

I hear

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

before speaking. “It ended like that,

“Couldn’t what?”

shrugs. “Mitch was

supposed to

no capacity to

like a blade. “While you do? You mean she didn't

his

my father

“I’m

“But she married him?”

not actually necessary to

you want to marry

I wanted her.

she didn’t want you.”

something else. Something stopping her from… from giving

you deduce that she had no capacity to

would she have left you at

air through

forward again, folded arms resting on the counter. “She knew I had you. She knew where you would be. But she never came for you. I believed she would. But she

carved in stone. I take her hand again, curling warm fingers around her cold ones. “You don't

happened.

want the truth to be

from him. “And whatever led you to think life

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