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

could put it that way,

what? To take your revenge on me? Because she left

face almost touching the grill. “You got it right the first time. I wanted you

is he saying all

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 what you mean? After the way you treated me when I was little? It’s been over twenty years. You’re obsessed.

poking a

is something in the guard's stance; something in his

He dislikes Klempner?

Really dislikes him?

Something personal?

And Klempner’s face…

If you go upsetting your visitors, you’ll not be getting any more

an excuse to

fury glittering there.

The monster…

schools his features to a more

Apparent meekness.

Apparent obedience.

All fake.

What’s going on?

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

what I just saw, but my

other. After long seconds he says,

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

some

thing? What do you

tattoo on the back of her shoulder, just there.” He reaches back, tapping behind himself. “And she’d painted one

artistic? A painter? A good

at his teeth. “Almost eerily

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

sits back in her chair.

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

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

a tone like a

“Would you tell me about

he muses. “Perhaps the next

sets. “Why not

encourage you to

“Oh… What else?”

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

Then she dives for her bag, scrabbling inside. Klempner watches the performance with a raised brow. He glances at me with

photograph, holding it up to the grill. “Is that it? The necklace. That she’s

more closely. “Well, what are the chances? Where the hell did you get hold of

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

her, his eyes narrowing, then he turns his attention back

who snaps fingers at the photo. Charlotte passes it to him. He gives it a cursory

under the grill and Klempner

Something precious?

sits

necklace you were

as he looks up. “Your father gave it

in the

“Yes, that’s Conners.”

you still friends

the monosyllable lacks

notice. “When was it? Where

are slow. “Towards the end, before... before...” He holds up the photo. “Can I keep

then swallows. “It's the only one I

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

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

yes, if you want it, you can

gazing at the image. “I still have

voice trembles.

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

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

it sent to you. Perhaps at

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

back, chews at a lip. “I used to

something I had nothing to

photo. “Quid pro quo. You give me something. I

really it?”

folds his arms, a sneer flirting over

James stares back.

to out-stare a

did I hear

did it fail? Between you and my

speaking. “It ended like that, yes. But... there was something about her

“Couldn’t what?”

shrugs. “Mitch

that supposed to

had no capacity

blade. “While you do? You mean she didn't

folding his arms.

loved my father

“I’m

“But she married him?”

necessary to love someone

want to marry

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

didn’t want you.” Her

not convinced of that either. There was something else. Something stopping her from… from

that she had no capacity

would she have left you

air through

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

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

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

the truth to be a

drain from him. “And whatever led you to think life is

The Novel will be updated daily. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

Comments ()

0/255