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!

wanted me as a substitute

put it

revenge on me?

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

is he saying all

Admitting this?

you?” she hisses. “Fallen in love with you? Is

poking a baton between his shoulders. “Behave yourself,

something in the guard's stance; something in his

He dislikes Klempner?

Really dislikes him?

Something personal?

And Klempner’s face…

your visitors, you’ll

an excuse to cut his

eyes flash sidelong, fury glittering

The monster…

features to a more normal

Apparent meekness.

Apparent obedience.

All fake.

What’s going on?

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

just saw,

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

you tell me something about my

into some far distance. “She had a

thing? What

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

A

sucks at his teeth. “Almost

then continues, “She always

in her chair.

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

mumbles a bit. “Didn't have it down

like a desert,

eyes lift to his. “Would you tell me about

“Perhaps the next

face sets. “Why

you to visit

“Oh… What else?”

“She wore a necklace with one too, a butterfly that is. A little silver thing.

closing. Then she dives for her bag, scrabbling inside. Klempner watches the performance with

something; the photograph, holding it up to the grill. “Is that it? The necklace. That she’s

closely. “Well, what are the chances? Where the

file on my father.” Her hand

then he turns his

fingers at the photo. Charlotte

it under the grill and

Something precious?

sits staring at

that the necklace you

is quiet as

in the

“Yes, that’s Conners.”

you still friends

But the

seem to notice. “When was

before...” He holds up the photo. “Can I keep

“It's the

icy. “It's a copy of the original. James can make you

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

you want it, you

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

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

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

wavering, “I thought they didn't let you

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

hand from mine. “Why would

chews at a lip.

something I had nothing to

the photo. “Quid pro quo. You give

really

his arms, a sneer flirting over his mouth, staring him

James stares back.

try to out-stare a

I hear

two of them then, “Why did it fail?

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

“Couldn’t what?”

“Mitch was

that supposed to

no capacity

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

sits back, folding his arms. “No,

my

head tilts. “I’m not

“But she married him?”

to love someone to marry

you want to marry

yes, I wanted her. I

didn’t want you.” Her voice

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

deduce that she had no

would she have left

air through his

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

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

ask me what happened. Do you want the truth or

want the truth to

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

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