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 for her? Is that

could put it

take your revenge

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

is he saying all

Admitting this?

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 years. You’re obsessed. You’re fucking

guard moves to stand behind Klempner, poking

in the guard's stance; something in

He dislikes Klempner?

Really dislikes him?

Something personal?

And Klempner’s face…

your visitors, you’ll

excuse to

eyes flash sidelong, fury glittering there. Just for

The monster…

schools his features to a more normal expression;

Apparent meekness.

Apparent obedience.

All fake.

What’s going on?

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

I just saw, but

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

rage drains from her. “Will you tell me something about my mother?”

looking into some far distance. “She had

A thing? What do

the back of her shoulder, just there.” He reaches back, tapping behind himself. “And she’d

was artistic? A painter?

realistic.” He sucks at his teeth. “Almost eerily so actually. She

seems to run out of words. Klempner regards her, then continues, “She always seemed to be wearing butterflies on herself somewhere... slippers,

back in

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

have it

like a desert, “Long

to his. “Would you tell me about

next time you come

sets. “Why

encourage you to visit me

“Oh… What else?”

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

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

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

more closely. “Well, what are the chances? Where the hell did you get hold of

found it in some old records… The missing persons file on my father.” Her hand is shaking. “Is that it? The necklace she’s

at her, his eyes narrowing, then he turns his attention back

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

it under the grill

Something precious?

sits staring at

the necklace you were

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

him in

“Yes, that’s Conners.”

you still

the monosyllable lacks

doesn’t seem to notice. “When was it?

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

flushes then swallows. “It's the only

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

to James.

want

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

voice trembles. “Why do you

your father gave it to your mother.

didn't let you keep things

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

hand from mine. “Why would you take that

sits back, chews at a lip. “I used

I had nothing to

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

that really it?”

his arms, a sneer flirting over his

James stares back.

to out-stare a

did I

between the two of them then, “Why did it fail? Between you and my mother? Because she was

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

“Couldn’t what?”

shrugs. “Mitch was

supposed

no capacity

a look like a blade. “While you

his arms. “No, she

loved my

“I’m not convinced

“But she married him?”

necessary to love someone to

want to marry

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

she didn’t want you.” Her

was something else. Something

from that, you deduce that she had no capacity

would she have

air through

arms resting on the counter. “She knew I had you. She knew where you would be. But

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

me what happened. Do you want the truth or do you want a fairy

want the truth to be a fairy

from him. “And whatever led

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