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

it

revenge on me? Because

forward on folded arms, his face almost touching the grill. “You got it right the first time. I wanted you as a substitute for

he saying all

Admitting this?

“You imagine I would have wanted you?” she hisses. “Fallen in love with you? Is that what you mean? After the way you treated

Klempner, poking a baton between

is something in the guard's stance;

He dislikes Klempner?

Really dislikes him?

Something personal?

And Klempner’s face…

upsetting your visitors, you’ll not be getting

excuse

glittering there. Just

The monster…

features to a

Apparent meekness.

Apparent obedience.

All fake.

What’s going on?

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

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

She and Klempner eye-ball each other. After

rage drains from her. “Will you tell me something about

some far distance. “She had a

thing? What

tattoo on the back of her shoulder, just there.” He reaches back,

A painter? A

good. Very realistic.” He sucks at his teeth. “Almost eerily so actually. She could have

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

back in her

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

have it

like a desert,

“Would you tell me

next time

sets. “Why

you to visit

“Oh… What else?”

butterfly that is. A little

sits 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

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

what are

records… The missing persons file on my father.” Her hand is

narrowing, then he turns his attention back to the photo.

guard who snaps fingers at the photo. Charlotte passes it to him. He gives it a cursory inspection,

grill

Something precious?

sits

the necklace you were talking

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

him in

“Yes, that’s Conners.”

you still

But the

“When was

before...” He

swallows. “It's the only

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

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

you want it, you can

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

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

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

voice wavering, “I thought they didn't let you keep things like

it here. But I can have it

her hand from mine. “Why would

sits back, chews at a lip. “I used to

had nothing to do

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

that really

folds his arms, a sneer flirting over his mouth, staring him

James stares back.

try to out-stare a

did I

it fail? Between

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

“Couldn’t what?”

shrugs. “Mitch was damaged

supposed to

had no capacity to

“While you do? You

sits back, folding his arms. “No, she

my

“I’m not convinced of

“But she married him?”

not actually necessary to

you want

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

you.”

of that either. There was something else. Something stopping

that she

have left you

air

had you. She knew where you would be. But she never came for you. I believed she

could be carved in stone. I take her hand again, curling warm fingers around her cold ones. “You

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

whispers. “I want the truth to be a fairy

drain from him. “And whatever led

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