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!

“You wanted me as a substitute for her? Is that

put it that way,

revenge on

folded arms, his face almost touching the grill. “You got it right the first time. I wanted you as a

is 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. You’re obsessed.

poking a baton between

something in the guard's stance; something in his

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

glittering there. Just

The monster…

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

Apparent meekness.

Apparent obedience.

All fake.

What’s going on?

down,” he murmurs. “It’s past.” It’s

what I just saw,

each other. After

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

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

A thing? What

a small tattoo on the back of her shoulder, just there.” He

was artistic? A painter? A

his teeth. “Almost eerily so actually. She could have made a living as an artist had she chosen

Klempner regards her, then continues, “She always seemed to

back in

cheeks, looking amused. “What’s so

“Didn't have it

tone like a desert, “Long

eyes lift to his. “Would you tell

the next time you come

sets. “Why

will encourage you to

“Oh… What else?”

gets that distant look again. “She wore a necklace with one too, a butterfly that is. A little silver thing. Just

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

pulls something; the photograph, holding it up to the

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

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

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

Charlotte passes

slides it under the grill and Klempner takes

Something precious?

sits staring

that the necklace

is.” His voice is quiet as

in

“Yes, that’s Conners.”

you still friends

But the monosyllable lacks

to notice. “When was it? Where was

end, before... before...” He

swallows. “It's the only one

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

to James. “You're sure?” He nods

yes, if you want it,

gazing at the image. “I still have that necklace you

have it?” Charlotte's voice trembles. “Why

father gave it to your mother. Since she's not here,

didn't let you keep things like that

it here. But I can have it sent to you. Perhaps at

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

sits back, chews at a lip. “I

something I had nothing to

then holds up the photo. “Quid

that really it?”

his arms, a sneer flirting over his mouth,

James stares back.

try to out-stare a

did I

did it fail? Between

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

“Couldn’t what?”

shrugs. “Mitch

that supposed to mean.

no

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

sits back, folding his arms. “No,

my father

“I’m

“But she married him?”

necessary to love

want

far. But yes, I wanted her. I

didn’t want you.”

was something else. Something stopping her from…

from that, you deduce that she

she have left you

sucks air through his

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

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

thought you came to talk; to ask me what happened. Do you want the truth or do you want a

“I want the truth to be a

“And whatever led you

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