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!

recoils. Shock ricochets over her face. “You wanted me as a substitute for

could put it that way,

To take your revenge on me? Because she

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

is he saying all

Admitting this?

face almost meeting his save for the barrier. “You 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

to stand behind Klempner, poking a baton between his shoulders.

guard's stance; something in his

He dislikes Klempner?

Really dislikes him?

Something personal?

And Klempner’s face…

your visitors, you’ll not be getting any

excuse to

sidelong, fury glittering there.

The monster…

before he schools his features to a more

Apparent meekness.

Apparent obedience.

All fake.

What’s going on?

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

about what I just

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

rage drains from her. “Will you tell me something about my mother?” There’s pleading in her

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

thing? What

her shoulder, just there.” He reaches back,

was artistic? A painter?

of her work 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

of words. Klempner regards her, then continues,

back in her

in his cheeks,

“Didn't have it down as a pyjamas kind of

tone like

to his. “Would you

the next

sets.

you to visit

“Oh… What else?”

distant look again. “She wore a necklace with one too, a butterfly that is. A little silver thing. Just a trinket, but she was

back, her mouth opening and closing. Then she dives for her bag, scrabbling inside. Klempner watches the performance with a raised

holding it up to the grill. “Is that

closely. “Well, what are

old records… The missing persons file on my father.” Her hand is shaking. “Is that it? The necklace

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

snaps fingers at the photo. Charlotte passes it to

grill and Klempner

Something precious?

sits staring

that the necklace you were

is.” His voice is quiet as he looks up. “Your

him in

“Yes, that’s Conners.”

still friends

But the

“When was it? Where was

before... before...” He holds up the

swallows. “It's the only one

a hand over hers. Her flesh is icy. “It's

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

if you want it, you can have

“I still have that necklace you know. If you like,

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

long story. But your father gave it to your mother.

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

don't. I didn’t say I have it here. But I can have it

bolt upright, dragging her hand from mine. “Why would you take that kind

a lip. “I used to

something I had nothing to do

He stalls then holds up the photo. “Quid pro quo. You give me something. I give you

that really

a sneer flirting over his mouth,

James stares back.

to

did I

did it fail?

her eyes for a long pause before speaking. “It ended like that, yes.

“Couldn’t what?”

shrugs. “Mitch

that supposed

no capacity to

look like a blade. “While you do? You mean she

back, folding his arms. “No, she

my

head tilts. “I’m not

“But she married him?”

necessary to love someone to marry

you want

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

want you.”

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

from that, you deduce that she had

she have left you

air through

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

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

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

whispers. “I want the truth to be a fairy

him. “And whatever led you to

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