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!

recoils. Shock ricochets over her face. “You wanted me as a

could put it that

your revenge on me? Because

almost touching the grill. “You got it right the

he saying all

Admitting this?

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

guard moves to stand behind Klempner, poking a baton between his

guard's stance;

He dislikes Klempner?

Really dislikes him?

Something personal?

And Klempner’s face…

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

for an excuse to

eyes flash sidelong, fury glittering

The monster…

to a more normal expression; apparent passivity… “Yes, Mr

Apparent meekness.

Apparent obedience.

All fake.

What’s going on?

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

think about what I just saw, but my thoughts are

eye-ball each other. After long seconds he says, “So what would you

you tell me something about my

unfocusing, seemingly looking into some far distance. “She

thing? What do you

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

A painter? A

sucks at his teeth. “Almost eerily so actually. She could have made a living as

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

sits back in

He sucks in his cheeks,

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

like

“Would you tell me

the next time you come

face sets. “Why not

you to

“Oh… What else?”

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

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 avoids

photograph, holding it up to the grill. “Is that it? The

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

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

he turns his attention back to the photo. “I'd like a

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

under the grill and Klempner

Something precious?

then sits staring

the necklace you were

is quiet as he

in the

“Yes, that’s Conners.”

still friends

But the monosyllable lacks

seem to notice. “When was it? Where

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

then swallows. “It's

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

fingers tighten into mine. She swings to

you want

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

voice trembles. “Why do

it to your mother. Since she's not

voice wavering, “I thought they didn't let you keep things like that

can have it

hand from mine. “Why would you take that kind

sits back, chews at a lip. “I used

had

“Quid pro quo. You give me something.

that really it?”

a sneer flirting over his mouth,

James stares back.

try to out-stare a

did I

looks between the two of them then, “Why did it fail?

that, yes. But... there

“Couldn’t what?”

“Mitch was damaged

that supposed to mean.

had no capacity to

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

folding his arms.

my father

“I’m not convinced

“But she married him?”

necessary to love someone

want to marry

But yes, I wanted her. I wanted her to

want you.” Her voice drips

There was something else. Something stopping her from… from giving

from that, you deduce that she had no

have left

air through

arms resting on the counter. “She knew I had you. She knew where you would be. But she never came

curling warm fingers around her cold ones. “You don't believe in softening

to talk; to ask me what happened. Do

the truth

him. “And whatever led you to think life is

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