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!

her face. “You wanted me as a substitute for her?

it

what? To take your revenge

almost touching the grill. “You got it right the first time.

is he saying

Admitting this?

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 between his shoulders.

in the guard's stance; something

He dislikes Klempner?

Really dislikes him?

Something personal?

And Klempner’s face…

visitors, you’ll

an excuse to

eyes flash sidelong, fury glittering there. Just for a

The monster…

schools his features to a more normal

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

want to think about what I just

After long seconds he

you tell me something about my mother?” There’s pleading in her voice. “Something

into some far distance. “She had a

A thing? What do

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

was artistic? A painter? A good

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

her, then continues, “She always seemed to be

sits back in her chair.

cheeks, looking amused.

“Didn't have it down as

a tone like a

to his. “Would

muses. “Perhaps the next time you come

face sets. “Why

encourage you to visit

“Oh… What else?”

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

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

up to

are the chances? Where the hell did

on my father.”

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

at the photo. Charlotte passes it to him. He gives it a cursory inspection,

it under the grill and

Something precious?

then sits staring

that the necklace you were

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

in the

“Yes, that’s Conners.”

you still friends

But the monosyllable

“When

the end, before... before...” He holds up the photo.

“It's

“It's a copy of the original. James

to

you want it,

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

trembles.

story. But your father gave it to your mother.

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

But I can have it sent to you.

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

back, chews at a lip. “I used to

had nothing

father...” He stalls then holds up the photo. “Quid pro quo. You give me

that really it?”

flirting over his mouth, staring

James stares back.

try to

did I

of them then, “Why did it fail? Between you and my mother?

speaking. “It ended like that, yes. But... there was something about her

“Couldn’t what?”

shrugs. “Mitch

supposed to mean.

had no capacity

look like a blade. “While you do? You mean she

back, folding his arms.

loved my

“I’m not convinced

“But she married him?”

to love someone to

you want

wanted her. I wanted her to be with

want you.” Her

of that either. There was something else. Something stopping her from…

from that, you deduce that she had

have

air through his

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

I take her hand again, curling warm

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

truth to be a fairy

him. “And whatever

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