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? Is that

it that

To take your revenge on me?

face almost touching the grill. “You got

he

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.

Klempner, poking a baton between his

the guard's stance;

He dislikes Klempner?

Really dislikes him?

Something personal?

And Klempner’s face…

you go upsetting your visitors, you’ll

excuse to

glittering there. Just for a

The monster…

a more normal

Apparent meekness.

Apparent obedience.

All fake.

What’s going on?

he murmurs. “It’s past.” It’s

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

in her chair. She and Klempner eye-ball each other. After long seconds he says,

“Will you tell me something about my

some far

A thing? What do you

just there.” He

was artistic? A painter? A good

at his teeth. “Almost eerily so actually. She could have made

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

sits back in her chair.

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

a bit. “Didn't have it down as a pyjamas kind

a tone like a

eyes lift to his. “Would

the next time you

sets. “Why not

will encourage you to visit

“Oh… What else?”

too, a butterfly that is. A

bag, scrabbling inside. Klempner watches the performance with a raised brow. He glances at me with

something; the photograph, holding it up to

what are the chances?

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

narrowing, then he turns his attention back to the photo. “I'd like a

the photo. Charlotte passes it to him. He gives

it under the grill and Klempner takes

Something precious?

then sits staring at

the necklace you were talking

it is.” His voice is quiet as he looks

in the

“Yes, that’s Conners.”

you still

But the monosyllable

to notice. “When was it? Where was

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

swallows. “It's

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

into mine. She swings to James. “You're sure?” He nods without

want it, you can have

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

trembles. “Why do you have

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

thought they didn't let

have it sent to you. Perhaps at those Haswell offices where

from mine. “Why would you take

sits back, chews at a lip. “I used to

I had

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

really

a sneer flirting over

James stares back.

to out-stare a

did I

them then, “Why did it fail? Between you and my

eyes for a long pause before speaking. “It ended like that, yes. But... there was something about her well before then. As

“Couldn’t what?”

“Mitch

that supposed to mean.

had no

a blade. “While you do? You

back, folding his arms. “No, she

my

“I’m not

“But she married him?”

actually necessary to love someone

you want

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

didn’t want you.” Her voice drips

that either. There was something else.

deduce that

have left you

sucks air through his

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

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

happened. Do you want the truth or

truth to

from him. “And whatever led

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