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!

over her face. “You wanted me as a substitute

could put it

To take your revenge on me?

the grill. “You got it right the first time. I wanted you as a substitute for

is he saying all

Admitting this?

love with you? Is that

stand behind Klempner, poking a baton

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

for an excuse to cut

flash sidelong, fury glittering there. Just for a

The monster…

a more normal expression; apparent

Apparent meekness.

Apparent obedience.

All fake.

What’s going on?

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

about what I just saw, but my thoughts are

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

rage drains from her. “Will you tell me something about my

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

A thing? What do you

mean, she liked butterflies. She had a small tattoo on the back of her shoulder, just there.” He

artistic? A

her work was very good. Very realistic.” He sucks at his teeth. “Almost

then continues, “She always seemed

back in her

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

“Didn't have it down as

tone like a

his. “Would you tell me

next time you come to

face sets.

will encourage you to

“Oh… What else?”

with one too, a butterfly that is. A little silver thing. Just a trinket, but she was fond

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 questioning eye. I shrug. He

she pulls something; the photograph, holding it up to

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

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

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

Charlotte passes it

grill

Something precious?

then sits staring

necklace you

Yes, it is.” His voice is quiet as he looks up.

in the

“Yes, that’s Conners.”

still

But the monosyllable lacks

notice. “When

before...”

“It's the only

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

She swings to

you want it, you can

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

Charlotte's voice trembles. “Why do you have

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

wavering, “I thought they didn't let

say I have it here. But I can have it

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

sits back, chews at a lip. “I used to hate

I had nothing to do

up the photo. “Quid pro quo. You

really it?” asks

flirting over

James stares back.

to out-stare a

I hear

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

ended like that, yes. But... there was something about

“Couldn’t what?”

shrugs. “Mitch

that supposed to mean.

no capacity to

a blade. “While you

back, folding his arms.

loved my father

“I’m not convinced of

“But she married him?”

necessary to love someone to

want to marry

that far. But yes, I wanted her. I wanted

didn’t want you.” Her voice drips

something else. Something stopping her from… from

that, you deduce that she had no capacity to

would she have

sucks air through his

She knew where you would be. But she never came for you. I believed she would.

hand again, curling warm fingers around her cold ones.

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

truth to be a

aggression seems to drain from him. “And whatever led you

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