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

it that

what? To take your revenge on me? Because she left

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

he saying all

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.

Klempner, poking a baton

guard's stance; something in

He dislikes Klempner?

Really dislikes him?

Something personal?

And Klempner’s face…

your visitors, you’ll not be

for an excuse to cut

sidelong, fury glittering there. Just

The monster…

he schools his features to a

Apparent meekness.

Apparent obedience.

All fake.

What’s going on?

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

just

other. After long seconds he

tell me something

into some far distance. “She had a thing

thing? What do

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

A painter? A good

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

her, then continues, “She always seemed to be wearing

back in her chair.

cheeks, looking amused. “What’s so

have it down as a pyjamas kind

tone like a desert, “Long

to his. “Would you tell me about

he muses. “Perhaps the next time you come

face sets. “Why

will encourage you

“Oh… What else?”

“She wore a necklace with one too, a butterfly that is.

bag, scrabbling inside. Klempner watches the performance with a raised brow. He glances at

up to the grill. “Is that it? The necklace.

glances, then stiffens, looking more closely. “Well, what are the

persons file on my father.” Her hand is shaking. “Is that

glances at her, his eyes narrowing, then he turns his attention back to the photo. “I'd like

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

grill and Klempner

Something precious?

then sits

the necklace

as he looks up. “Your father gave it to

in

“Yes, that’s Conners.”

still

But the monosyllable lacks

seem to notice. “When was it? Where

“Towards the end, before... before...”

swallows. “It's the only

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

to

yes, if you want it, you can have

at the image. “I still have that necklace

Charlotte's voice trembles. “Why do you have

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

thought they didn't let you keep

I didn’t say I have it here. But I can have it sent to you. Perhaps at those

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

back, chews at a lip. “I used to hate you. That's

something I had

“Quid pro quo. You give me something. I

that really

his arms, a sneer flirting over his mouth,

James stares back.

to out-stare

I

did it fail? Between you and my mother? Because she was

ended like that, yes. But... there was something about her well before then.

“Couldn’t what?”

shrugs. “Mitch

that supposed to

no capacity

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

back, folding his arms.

loved my father

“I’m not convinced of

“But she married him?”

necessary to

want to marry

yes, I wanted her. I wanted her to be with

didn’t want you.” Her voice

something

deduce that she had no capacity to

she have left you at

air through

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

her hand again, curling warm fingers around

thought you came to talk; to ask me what happened.

the truth to

drain from him. “And whatever led you

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