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

could put it that

To take your revenge on me? Because she left

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

he saying

Admitting this?

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

is something in the guard's stance; something

He dislikes Klempner?

Really dislikes him?

Something personal?

And Klempner’s face…

go upsetting your visitors, you’ll not be

an excuse to cut his

eyes flash sidelong, fury glittering there. Just for a

The monster…

schools his features to a

Apparent meekness.

Apparent obedience.

All fake.

What’s going on?

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

I just saw,

chair. She and Klempner eye-ball each other. After long seconds he says, “So

drains from her. “Will you tell me something about my mother?” There’s pleading in her

looking into some far distance.

A thing? What do you

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

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 have made a

continues, “She always seemed

sits back in

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

have it down

tone like a desert, “Long

eyes lift to his. “Would you tell me

he muses. “Perhaps the next time

face sets.

you to visit me

“Oh… What else?”

with one too, a butterfly that is. A little silver thing. Just a trinket,

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

purse she pulls something; the photograph, holding it up to the grill. “Is that it?

looking more closely. “Well, what are the chances? Where the hell did you get hold

records… The missing persons file on my

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

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

it under the grill

Something precious?

sits

the necklace you were

His voice is quiet as he

in

“Yes, that’s Conners.”

still

But the monosyllable

notice. “When was it?

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

“It's the only

Her flesh is icy. “It's a copy

mine. She swings to James. “You're sure?”

you want it, you can have

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

trembles. “Why do you

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

“I thought they didn't let you

have it here. But I can have it sent to you. Perhaps at those Haswell offices where

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

chews at a lip.

something I had nothing

He stalls then holds up the photo. “Quid pro quo. You give me something. I

really it?” asks

his arms, a sneer flirting

James stares back.

to out-stare

did I hear

of them then, “Why did it fail?

holds her eyes for a long pause before speaking. “It ended like that, yes. But... there was something about her well before then. As

“Couldn’t what?”

“Mitch was damaged

that supposed to

no capacity

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

his arms.

loved my

tilts. “I’m not convinced

“But she married him?”

not actually necessary to

you want

yes, I wanted her. I wanted her to

want you.” Her voice drips

not convinced of that either. There was something else. Something stopping her from… from

deduce that she had no capacity to

have left you

sucks air through his

“She knew I had you. She knew where you would be.

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

what happened. Do you want the

the truth to be a fairy

seems to drain from him. “And whatever led you to think life is

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