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!

Shock ricochets over her face. “You wanted me as a substitute for her? Is that

it that way,

take your revenge on me?

touching the grill. “You got it right

he saying all

Admitting this?

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,

in the guard's stance; something in

He dislikes Klempner?

Really dislikes him?

Something personal?

And Klempner’s face…

your visitors, you’ll not be

excuse to cut his

flash sidelong, fury glittering there. Just for

The monster…

schools his features to a more normal expression; apparent passivity… “Yes, Mr

Apparent meekness.

Apparent obedience.

All fake.

What’s going on?

he murmurs. “It’s past.” It’s the first thing he’s

I just saw, but my thoughts are cut

After long

her. “Will you tell me something

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

thing? What do you

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

was artistic? A

her work was very good. Very realistic.” He sucks at his teeth. “Almost eerily so actually. She could have made a living as an

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

sits back in

in his cheeks, looking amused.

mumbles a bit. “Didn't have it down as a

a tone like

lift to his. “Would you tell

next time

face sets.

you to visit

“Oh… What else?”

gets that distant look again. “She wore a necklace with one too, a butterfly that is. A

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 shrug. He avoids James’

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

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

it in some old records… The missing persons file on my father.” Her hand is shaking. “Is that it? The necklace

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

at the photo. Charlotte passes it

under the grill and Klempner takes it

Something precious?

sits

necklace you were talking

Yes, it is.” His voice is quiet as

in

“Yes, that’s Conners.”

you still

the monosyllable lacks

“When was

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

swallows. “It's the

is icy. “It's a copy of the original.

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

yes, if you want it, you can

Klempner sits silently gazing at the image. “I still have that necklace you know. If

voice trembles. “Why do you have

to your mother. Since she's not here,

they didn't let

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

from mine. “Why would you take that kind

a lip. “I used

I had nothing to do

“Quid pro quo. You

that really it?”

folds his arms, a sneer flirting over his

James stares back.

to out-stare a

I hear

“Why did it fail? Between you and my mother? Because she was afraid of

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

“Couldn’t what?”

shrugs. “Mitch was

supposed

had no capacity

“While you

folding his arms. “No,

my father

tilts. “I’m

“But she married him?”

not actually necessary to love someone to

you want

But yes, I wanted her. I wanted her

want you.” Her voice

that either. There was something

you deduce that she had no capacity

have left

air through his

you. She knew where you would

could be carved in stone. I take her hand again, curling warm fingers around her cold

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

the truth

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

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