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!

wanted me as a substitute for

it

revenge on me? Because she

arms, his face almost touching the grill. “You got it right the first time. I

he saying

Admitting this?

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

stand behind Klempner, poking a baton between his shoulders.

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 cut

flash sidelong, fury glittering there. Just for a

The monster…

to a more normal expression; apparent

Apparent meekness.

Apparent obedience.

All fake.

What’s going on?

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

think about what I just saw, but my thoughts are

After

me something about

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

thing? What do

back of her shoulder, just there.” He reaches back, tapping

was artistic? A

realistic.” He sucks at his teeth. “Almost eerily so actually. She could have made a living as

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

in

in his cheeks, looking amused.

have it down as a pyjamas kind of

a tone like

“Would you

“Perhaps the next time you come to

face sets. “Why

will encourage you to visit me

“Oh… What else?”

butterfly that is. A little silver thing. Just a

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

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

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

my father.” Her hand is shaking. “Is that it? The necklace she’s

his attention back to the photo. “I'd like a

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

the grill and Klempner takes

Something precious?

then sits staring at

the necklace you were

His voice is quiet as he looks up. “Your father

in

“Yes, that’s Conners.”

still friends

But the monosyllable lacks

seem to notice. “When

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

“It's the only one I

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

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

want it, you can have

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

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

father gave it to your mother. Since she's not here, I

let you keep things

have it sent to you. Perhaps at those Haswell offices where

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

at a lip. “I used to hate

had

father...” He stalls then holds up the photo. “Quid pro quo. You give me something. I

really

sneer flirting over his mouth, staring

James stares back.

try to out-stare a

did I hear

looks between the two of them then, “Why did it fail? Between you

long pause before speaking. “It ended like that, yes. But... there was something about her well before then. As though she

“Couldn’t what?”

shrugs. “Mitch was damaged

supposed

had no capacity

him a look like a blade. “While you do? You mean she didn't

back, folding his arms. “No,

loved my

head tilts. “I’m not

“But she married him?”

to

you want to marry

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

didn’t want you.”

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

you deduce that she

would she have left

sucks air through

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

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

me what happened. Do

whispers. “I want the truth to be a fairy

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

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