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 for her?

put it

your revenge on

leans forward on folded arms, his face almost touching the grill. “You got it

is he

Admitting this?

hisses. “Fallen in love with you? Is that what you mean? After the

moves to stand behind Klempner, poking

is something in the guard's stance;

He dislikes Klempner?

Really dislikes him?

Something personal?

And Klempner’s face…

visitors, you’ll not be getting any more of

for an excuse to cut his

glittering there. Just for

The monster…

his features to a more normal expression;

Apparent meekness.

Apparent obedience.

All fake.

What’s going on?

Charlotte’s. “Calm down,” he murmurs. “It’s past.”

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

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

her. “Will you tell me something about my mother?” There’s pleading in her voice. “Something

seemingly looking into some far distance. “She had

What

mean, she liked butterflies. She had a small tattoo on the back of her shoulder, just there.” He reaches back, tapping behind himself. “And she’d painted one on the wall

A painter? A

good. Very realistic.” He sucks at his teeth. “Almost eerily

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

sits back in her chair.

He sucks in his cheeks, looking amused.

it down

tone like a desert,

eyes lift to his. “Would you tell me

“Perhaps the next time you come to see

sets. “Why not

encourage you to visit me

“Oh… What else?”

again. “She wore a necklace with one too, a butterfly that is.

scrabbling inside. Klempner watches the performance

the photograph, holding it up to the grill. “Is that it?

closely. “Well, what are

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

he turns his attention back to the photo.

snaps fingers at the photo. Charlotte passes

the grill and

Something precious?

then sits staring at

necklace you were

Yes, it is.” His voice is quiet as

him in

“Yes, that’s Conners.”

still

the

to notice. “When

slow. “Towards the end, before... before...” He holds up the

swallows. “It's the only one I

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

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

you want

the image. “I still have that necklace you know. If

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

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

let you keep

I have it here. But I can have it sent to you. Perhaps at

sits bolt upright, dragging her hand from mine. “Why

lip. “I used to hate

something I had nothing to do

stalls then holds up the photo. “Quid

really

a sneer flirting over his mouth, staring him

James stares back.

try to out-stare

I hear

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

like that,

“Couldn’t what?”

“Mitch

supposed to

had no capacity to

gives him a look like a blade. “While you do?

sits back, folding his arms.

loved my father

tilts. “I’m

“But she married him?”

not actually necessary to love

you want to marry

I wanted her. I wanted her to

didn’t want you.”

convinced of that either. There was something else. Something

that, you deduce that she

she have left

sucks air

She knew

could be carved in stone. I take her hand again, curling warm fingers around her cold ones. “You don't

“I thought you came to talk; to ask me what happened. Do you want the truth or do you want a

truth to be a fairy

whatever led you to

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