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

could put it that way,

To take your revenge on me?

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

he saying all

Admitting this?

would have wanted you?” she hisses. “Fallen in love with you? Is that what you

poking

the 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 more

excuse to

fury glittering there. Just for a

The monster…

schools his features to a more normal

Apparent meekness.

Apparent obedience.

All fake.

What’s going on?

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

about what I just saw, but my thoughts are cut

eye-ball each other. After long seconds he

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

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

A thing? What

on the back of her shoulder, just

A painter? A

saw of her work was very good. Very realistic.” He sucks at his teeth. “Almost eerily

continues, “She always seemed to be wearing

back in

in his cheeks, looking

mumbles a bit. “Didn't have it

a tone like a

to his. “Would you tell

the next time you come to

face sets.

encourage you to visit

“Oh… What else?”

“She wore a necklace with one too, a butterfly that is. A little silver thing.

sits back, her mouth opening and closing. Then she dives for her bag, scrabbling inside. Klempner watches the performance with a raised brow. He glances at me with a questioning eye. I

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

“Well, what are the chances? Where the hell did you get hold

file on my father.” Her

he turns his attention back to the

the photo. Charlotte passes it to him. He gives it

the grill

Something precious?

sits staring

that the necklace

voice is quiet as he looks up. “Your father

him in

“Yes, that’s Conners.”

still

the

notice. “When was

the end, before... before...” He holds up the

swallows. “It's the only one I

“It's

mine. She swings to

yes, if you want it,

gazing at the image. “I still have that necklace you know.

trembles. “Why

mother.

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

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

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

lip. “I used to hate

had

He stalls then holds up the photo. “Quid pro

really

his arms, a sneer flirting

James stares back.

try to out-stare a

I hear

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

pause before speaking. “It ended like that,

“Couldn’t what?”

“Mitch was

supposed to

had no capacity to

a blade. “While you do? You mean

sits back, folding his arms. “No,

my

“I’m not

“But she married him?”

actually necessary to love someone

want

wanted her. I wanted her to be

want you.” Her voice drips

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

from that, you deduce that she had no

would she have left

sucks air

folded arms resting on the counter. “She knew I had you. She knew where you would be. But she

I take her hand again, curling warm fingers around her cold ones.

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

want the truth to

seems to drain from him. “And whatever led

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