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

could put it

your revenge on me?

his face almost touching the grill. “You got it right

is he saying all

Admitting this?

forward too, 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

behind Klempner, poking

something in the guard's stance; something in his

He dislikes Klempner?

Really dislikes him?

Something personal?

And Klempner’s face…

upsetting your visitors, you’ll

for an excuse to cut

fury glittering

The monster…

his features to a more normal expression;

Apparent meekness.

Apparent obedience.

All fake.

What’s going on?

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

what I just saw, but my thoughts are

After long seconds he says, “So what would you like to

something about my mother?” There’s pleading in her voice. “Something

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

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 one

A

very good. Very realistic.” He sucks at his teeth. “Almost eerily so

seems to run out of words. Klempner regards her, then continues,

sits back in her

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

“Didn't have it down as a

tone like a

eyes lift to his. “Would you tell me

next

sets.

encourage you to

“Oh… What else?”

butterfly that is. A little silver thing. Just a trinket, but she was fond of

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

photograph, holding it up to

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

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

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

who snaps fingers at the photo. Charlotte passes it to

grill and Klempner takes it

Something precious?

sits staring at

the necklace you were

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

him in the

“Yes, that’s Conners.”

still friends

the monosyllable lacks

doesn’t seem to notice. “When

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

swallows. “It's the only one I

slip a hand over hers. Her flesh is icy. “It's

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

you want it,

have that necklace

voice trembles.

But your father gave it to your mother. Since she's not

“I thought they didn't let

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

hand from mine. “Why

a lip. “I used to

had nothing to do

stalls then holds up the photo. “Quid pro quo. You give me

really

sneer flirting over

James stares back.

to out-stare

I hear

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

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

“Couldn’t what?”

“Mitch was

supposed to

no

gives him a look like a blade. “While you do? You

back, folding his arms. “No, she

my

“I’m not

“But she married him?”

not actually necessary to love someone to

want

that far. But yes, I wanted

didn’t want you.” Her

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

from that, you deduce that she had

she have left you at

sucks air

leans forward again, folded arms resting on the counter. “She knew I had you. She knew

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

me what happened. Do

the truth to

from him. “And whatever

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