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

it that way,

take your revenge on me? Because

leans forward on folded arms, his face almost touching the grill. “You got it

he

Admitting this?

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

poking a baton between his shoulders.

guard's stance; something in

He dislikes Klempner?

Really dislikes him?

Something personal?

And Klempner’s face…

visitors, you’ll

for an excuse to cut his

fury glittering there. Just for

The monster…

he schools his features to a more normal expression; apparent

Apparent meekness.

Apparent obedience.

All fake.

What’s going on?

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

think about what I just saw, but

eye-ball each other. After long seconds he says, “So what would

me something

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

What

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

A painter?

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

then continues, “She always seemed to be wearing butterflies on herself

back in her

his cheeks, looking

“Didn't have it down as a pyjamas

tone like

“Would you tell me

next time you

sets. “Why not

encourage you to

“Oh… What else?”

butterfly

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

holding it up to the grill. “Is that it? The necklace. That

are the chances? Where the hell did

missing persons file on my father.”

his attention

Charlotte passes it to him. He gives it a cursory inspection, then

grill and Klempner takes it

Something precious?

sits

necklace

as he looks up. “Your father gave

him in

“Yes, that’s Conners.”

still

But the monosyllable lacks

seem to notice. “When

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

then swallows. “It's the only one

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

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

if you want it, you

still have that necklace you know. If you like, you can

voice trembles.

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

they didn't let you keep things

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

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

lip. “I used to hate

something I had nothing to do

“Quid pro quo. You give me something. I give

really it?”

arms, a sneer flirting over his mouth,

James stares back.

to out-stare

did I

“Why did it fail? Between

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

“Couldn’t what?”

“Mitch was

supposed

no capacity

like a blade. “While you do? You mean

his

loved my

“I’m not

“But she married him?”

necessary to love someone to

want

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

she didn’t want you.” Her

was something

you deduce that

would she have left you

sucks air through his

leans forward again, folded arms resting on the counter. “She knew I had you. She knew where you would be. But she never came for you. I believed she would.

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

talk; to ask me what happened. Do you want the

whispers. “I want the truth

aggression seems to drain from him. “And whatever

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