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

it that way,

To take your revenge on me? Because

“You got it right the first time. I wanted you as a

is he

Admitting this?

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

guard moves to stand behind Klempner, poking a baton between

is 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 not be getting

excuse to cut

glittering

The monster…

a more normal expression; apparent passivity…

Apparent meekness.

Apparent obedience.

All fake.

What’s going on?

he

want to think about what I just saw, but my thoughts

After long seconds he says, “So

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

inclines, eyes unfocusing, seemingly looking into some far distance. “She had

thing? What do you

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

was artistic? A painter?

work was very good. Very realistic.” He sucks at his teeth. “Almost eerily so actually.

regards her, then continues, “She always seemed to

back in

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

“Didn't have it down as a pyjamas kind of

tone like a desert,

lift to his. “Would you

the next

sets.

encourage you

“Oh… What else?”

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

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

something; the photograph, holding it up to the grill. “Is

“Well, what are the chances? Where the hell did you get hold

missing persons file on my father.” Her hand is shaking. “Is that it?

then he turns his

looks to the guard who snaps fingers at the photo. Charlotte

under the grill and Klempner takes it

Something precious?

then sits staring

the necklace you

it is.” His voice is quiet as he looks up. “Your father gave it to

in

“Yes, that’s Conners.”

still

But the monosyllable

“When was it?

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

then swallows. “It's the only one I

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

fingers tighten into mine. She swings to James. “You're sure?” He nods without

want it, you

still have

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

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

wavering, “I thought they didn't let you

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

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

chews at a lip. “I used

something I had

the photo. “Quid pro quo. You give

really it?” asks

folds his arms, a sneer flirting over his

James stares back.

to

did I

fail? Between you and my mother? Because she was afraid

pause before speaking. “It ended like that, yes.

“Couldn’t what?”

shrugs. “Mitch was

that supposed

no capacity to

look like a blade. “While you do?

back, folding his arms. “No,

my

“I’m not

“But she married him?”

not actually necessary to

want to

far. But yes, I wanted her. I wanted her to be

you.”

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

that, you deduce that she had no

would she have left you at

air through his

on the counter. “She knew I had you. She knew where you

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

to ask me what happened. Do you want the

the truth to

whatever led

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