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!

over her face. “You wanted me as a substitute

it

revenge on me? Because she

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

is he saying all

Admitting this?

in love with you? Is that what you mean? After the way you treated me when I was little? It’s

moves to stand behind Klempner, poking a baton between his shoulders. “Behave yourself,

the guard's stance; something

He dislikes Klempner?

Really dislikes him?

Something personal?

And Klempner’s face…

you’ll not be getting

for an excuse to cut

fury glittering there. Just for

The monster…

his features to a

Apparent meekness.

Apparent obedience.

All fake.

What’s going on?

down,” he murmurs.

I just

eye-ball each other. After

“Will you tell me something about

into some far distance. “She had a thing for

A thing? What

her shoulder, just there.” He reaches

A

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

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

in

his cheeks, looking amused.

a bit. “Didn't have it down as

tone like a

lift to his. “Would you tell me about

he muses. “Perhaps the next time you

sets. “Why

you

“Oh… What else?”

necklace with one too, a butterfly that is. A

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

it up to the

blinks, glances, then stiffens, looking more closely. “Well, what are the chances? Where the hell did you get hold of

persons file on my

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

at the photo. Charlotte passes it to him. He gives it a cursory

under the grill

Something precious?

sits staring

that the necklace you were talking

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

him in the

“Yes, that’s Conners.”

you still friends

the monosyllable lacks

seem to notice. “When

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

flushes then swallows. “It's the only one

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

fingers tighten into mine. She swings to James.

yes, if you want it, you

have

voice trembles. “Why do you have

father gave it to your mother. Since

“I thought they didn't let you keep things

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

back, chews at a lip.

something I had nothing

father...” He stalls then holds up the photo. “Quid

that really it?” asks

a sneer flirting over his

James stares back.

to out-stare a

did I

it fail? Between you and my mother?

a long pause before speaking. “It ended like that,

“Couldn’t what?”

shrugs. “Mitch was

that supposed to

no

blade. “While you do? You

his arms.

loved my father

tilts. “I’m

“But she married him?”

actually necessary to love someone to

you want to marry

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

want you.”

that either. There was something else. Something stopping her from…

from that, you deduce that she had no capacity

would she have left you at

sucks air through

the counter. “She knew I had you. She knew where you would be. But she never came

her hand again, curling warm fingers around her cold ones.

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

whispers. “I want the truth to be a fairy

from him. “And whatever led you to think life

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