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!

face. “You wanted me as a

it

revenge on me? Because she

face almost touching the grill. “You got it

is he saying

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

to stand behind Klempner, poking a baton between his

guard's stance; something

He dislikes Klempner?

Really dislikes him?

Something personal?

And Klempner’s face…

you go upsetting your visitors, you’ll not be getting

for an excuse to

sidelong, fury glittering

The monster…

schools his features to a more normal expression; apparent passivity…

Apparent meekness.

Apparent obedience.

All fake.

What’s going on?

down,” he

about what I just saw, but my thoughts

other. After long seconds

something about my

looking into some far distance. “She had a

A thing? What

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

artistic? A painter? A good

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

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

sits back in

cheeks, looking amused. “What’s

“Didn't have it down as a pyjamas kind

tone like

to his. “Would you

“Perhaps the next time you come to see

sets.

you to visit me

“Oh… What else?”

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

back, her mouth opening and closing. Then she dives for her bag, scrabbling inside. Klempner watches the performance with a raised brow. He glances at me with a questioning eye. I shrug. He avoids James’

pulls something; the photograph, holding it up to

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

The missing persons file on my father.” Her hand is shaking. “Is

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

the guard who snaps fingers at the photo. Charlotte passes it to him.

under the grill and Klempner takes it

Something precious?

then sits staring at

that the necklace you were talking

quiet as

him in

“Yes, that’s Conners.”

still

But the

doesn’t seem to notice. “When was it? Where

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

swallows. “It's the

“It's a copy

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

if you want it, you

the image. “I still have that necklace you know. If you like, you can

Charlotte's voice trembles. “Why do

to your mother.

let you keep

don't. I didn’t say I have it here. But I can have it sent to you. Perhaps at

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

back, chews at a lip. “I used

had nothing to

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

really

folds his arms, a sneer flirting over

James stares back.

to

did I

then, “Why did it fail? Between you and my mother?

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

“Couldn’t what?”

shrugs. “Mitch was damaged

that supposed to

had no capacity

“While you do? You mean she didn't love

folding his arms. “No,

loved my father

“I’m not convinced of

“But she married him?”

actually necessary to love someone

you want to marry

But yes, I wanted her. I wanted her

she didn’t want you.” Her voice

of that either. There was something

from that, you deduce that she had

would she have left you

sucks air

knew where

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

“I thought you came to talk; to ask me what happened. Do you want the truth

whispers. “I want the truth

“And whatever led you to

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