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 me as a substitute for her? Is that

put it that

your revenge

his face almost touching the grill. “You got it right the first time. I wanted you as a

he saying

Admitting this?

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

Klempner, poking a baton between his shoulders. “Behave

is something in the guard's stance; something

He dislikes Klempner?

Really dislikes him?

Something personal?

And Klempner’s face…

upsetting your visitors, you’ll

excuse to cut his

fury glittering there. Just

The monster…

features to a more normal expression; apparent passivity… “Yes,

Apparent meekness.

Apparent obedience.

All fake.

What’s going on?

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

what I just saw, but

eye-ball each other. After long seconds

me something about my mother?” There’s pleading in

unfocusing, seemingly looking into some far distance. “She

thing? What

the back of her shoulder, just

was artistic? A

was very good. Very realistic.” He sucks at his teeth. “Almost eerily so actually. She could have made a living as an artist

to run out of words. Klempner regards her, then continues, “She always

sits back in

cheeks, looking amused.

mumbles a bit. “Didn't have it down as a pyjamas

a tone like

his. “Would

the next time you come to

sets. “Why not

you to visit

“Oh… What else?”

with one too, a butterfly that is. A little

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

she pulls something; the photograph, holding it up to the

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

on my father.” Her

then he turns his attention back to the photo. “I'd

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

it under the grill and Klempner

Something precious?

sits staring

that the necklace

voice is quiet as he looks

him in the

“Yes, that’s Conners.”

you still

the

seem to notice. “When was it? Where was

“Towards the end, before... before...” He holds up

flushes then swallows. “It's the only one

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

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

if you want

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

trembles. “Why do you have

gave it to your mother. Since she's not

let you keep things

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

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

chews at a lip. “I used

I had nothing

holds up the photo. “Quid pro quo. You give me something.

really it?”

a sneer flirting over

James stares back.

try to

I hear

“Why did it fail? Between you and my mother? Because she was afraid of

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

“Couldn’t what?”

shrugs. “Mitch was damaged

supposed to mean.

had no capacity to

look like a blade. “While you

folding his arms.

loved my

head tilts. “I’m not convinced

“But she married him?”

necessary to love someone

you want

didn’t get that far. But yes, I wanted her. I wanted

you.” Her voice drips

was something else. Something

from that, you deduce that she

have left you

sucks air

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

hand again, curling warm fingers around her cold ones. “You don't believe

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

want the truth to be a fairy

to drain from him. “And whatever

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