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 substitute for her?

could put it that

your revenge on me? Because

his face almost touching the grill. “You got it

is he

Admitting this?

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

poking a baton between his shoulders. “Behave yourself,

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 for a

The monster…

he schools his features to a more

Apparent meekness.

Apparent obedience.

All fake.

What’s going on?

a hand on Charlotte’s. “Calm down,” he

I just saw, but my

She and Klempner eye-ball each other. After long seconds he says, “So what would

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

eyes unfocusing, seemingly looking into some far distance. “She had

What do

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

A painter?

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

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

in her

sucks in his cheeks, looking

have it

tone like a desert, “Long

lift to his. “Would you tell me

the next time you come to

sets.

will encourage you to

“Oh… What else?”

butterfly that is. A little silver thing. Just a trinket, but

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’

up to

closely. “Well, what are the chances? Where the hell

it in some old records… The missing persons file on my

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

to the guard who snaps fingers at the photo. Charlotte

under the grill and Klempner

Something precious?

sits

the necklace you were talking

is quiet as he looks up. “Your father

him in

“Yes, that’s Conners.”

you still friends

the monosyllable lacks

seem to notice. “When was it?

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

swallows. “It's the

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

She swings to James.

if you want it,

Klempner sits silently gazing at the image. “I still have that necklace

voice trembles. “Why do you have

mother. Since she's not here, I suppose that

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

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

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

sits back, chews at a lip. “I used to hate you. That's

something I had

“Quid pro quo. You give me

really it?” asks

a sneer flirting over

James stares back.

to

did I hear

fail? Between you and my mother? Because she was afraid of

that, yes. But... there was something about her

“Couldn’t what?”

shrugs. “Mitch was

supposed to

had no capacity to

him a look like a blade. “While you do? You mean she didn't love

his

loved my father

head tilts. “I’m

“But she married him?”

necessary to

you want to

that far. But yes, I wanted

you.” Her voice drips

was something else. Something stopping her from…

you deduce that she had no

have left you at

sucks air through his

knew where you would

her hand again, curling warm fingers around her cold ones. “You don't believe in softening the blow do

talk; to ask me what happened. Do you want

whispers. “I want the truth to be

aggression seems to drain from him. “And whatever led you

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