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 her? Is that

put it that way,

To take your revenge on me?

the grill. “You got it right the first time.

he saying

Admitting this?

her face almost meeting his save for the barrier. “You imagine I would have wanted you?” she hisses. “Fallen in love with you? Is that

stand behind Klempner, 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…

go upsetting your visitors, you’ll not

excuse to

fury glittering there. Just

The monster…

he schools his features to a

Apparent meekness.

Apparent obedience.

All fake.

What’s going on?

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

think about what I just saw, but my thoughts

each other. After long seconds he

me something about my mother?” There’s pleading in

some far distance.

thing? What do you

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

was artistic? A

“Almost eerily so actually. She could have made a living

run out of words. Klempner regards her, then continues, “She always

in her chair.

cheeks, looking amused. “What’s so

bit. “Didn't have it down as a

a tone like a

“Would you tell

he muses. “Perhaps the next time

sets. “Why not

encourage you to

“Oh… What else?”

wore a necklace with one too, a butterfly that is. A little silver thing. Just a trinket, but she was fond of

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

the purse she pulls something; the photograph, holding it up to the

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

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

his eyes narrowing, then he turns his attention

to the guard who snaps fingers at the photo. Charlotte passes it

the grill and

Something precious?

sits

the necklace you were

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

him in the

“Yes, that’s Conners.”

still

the monosyllable

doesn’t seem to notice. “When was

before... before...”

“It's the

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

fingers tighten into mine. She swings to James. “You're sure?”

want it, you

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

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

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

“I thought they didn't let you keep things

don't. I didn’t say I have it here. But I can have it sent to you. Perhaps at those Haswell offices where

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

back, chews at a lip. “I

I had nothing

photo. “Quid

that really it?”

flirting over

James stares back.

to out-stare

did I hear

then, “Why did it fail? Between you and

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

“Couldn’t what?”

shrugs. “Mitch was damaged

that supposed to mean.

no capacity to

“While you

his arms.

my father

head tilts. “I’m not convinced of

“But she married him?”

actually necessary to love someone to marry

want to marry

But yes, I wanted her. I

want you.”

convinced of that either. There was something else. Something stopping her

that she had no

she have left

air

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

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

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

“I want the truth to be a

drain from him. “And whatever

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