Masters & Lovers Box Set Three
Chapter 47
Michael
Klempner is, as usual, waiting as we arrive. From his seat, behind the barrier, he watches me enter with Charlotte. He looks rough; shadows under his eyes and he's lost weight.
The guard, Hartland, is there. He leans down, whispers close by my ear. “If it looks like trouble, just say the word.”
“I will.”
Then he straightens up and levels his baton towards Klempner. “Behave yourself, Larry.”
Klempner looks up, just barely tilts his head in acknowledgement. But I remember the look he gave Hartwell the last time we were here…
The monster stirring…
Klempner watches as James follows us in, letting out a barely audible sigh as he sits.
“That leg giving you trouble?”
James reply is curt. “Cold, damp weather.” But I hear his surprise at the question lurking behind the words.
Klempner fingers a long white scar on his hand. “It can't have been pleasant when Bech shot you. Tell me, do you remember it happening?”
James’ eyes shoot arrows. “What's it to you?”
“If you had just discovered you have a daughter, don't you think you would want to know something about the man she answers to?”
James shifts. Not much and perhaps not visibly to those who didn't know him, but I see it.
Unsettled?
“I didn't remember it at first, no,” he says. “The memory resurfaced after a few months.”
Klempner raises a flat, mirror gaze to him. “The memory was repressed?”
“Apparently.”
Klempner has a plastic cup of water by him. He takes a long mouthful, then sets it down again. “Interesting,” he says, “how the mind protects itself.”
What the hell’s he talking about?
Between me and James, Charlotte sits, shuffling awkwardly. Klempner chews at his upper lip. The pair regard each other in silence for a long minute then Charlotte finally speaks. “Thank you for sending the necklace.”
In restrained tones, “You’re welcome.” His eyes dip to her collar bone. “It suits you. As it did your mother.”
Charlotte swallows and lapses into silence again.
This could take a while…
After another long pause, Klempner says, “Are you going to ask me about your mother? That’s what you usually do.”
Charlotte fidgets then blurts, “I don’t even know what to call you.”
Klempner blows air. Looks down. Looks up. Then, “I suppose Dad is too much to hope for?”
James huffs and Klempner levels a stare at him. Then, “What do you want to call me?”
Charlotte’s voice would cut glass. “Don't tempt me.”
He coughs a laugh with no humour in it. “They know me as Larry around here. You can call me Larry.”
“What's your real name?”
“What?” He seems genuinely taken aback by the question.
“What's your real name? I don’t think it’s Klempner. I think you've probably gone by a lot of names. In a lot of
If you mean my original name. I left that behind when I was fourteen. Klempner works as well
“And Larry?”
was what
“Your mother?”
have one you
ignores the sarcasm. “I wanted to ask you
a fingernail on the counter.
“What was she like?”
stare would freeze a basilisk. “Why do you
out who my family were… are…. You told me that your father beat you. I wondered what your mother
“No, she didn’t.” Klempner’s speaks
He looks haunted…
“Tell me about her.”
“I barely remember her.”
me what
“Perhaps one day. But not
What going on?
the counter. “You said you killed your
was a violent man. It was him
“He beat you?”
small, he used my mother as a
her attention. As though painted into place, Charlotte sits, frozen as he speaks. Klempner jerks his chin up. “It’s not a pleasant story. You sure you want to hear
“Yes.”
forward, backward, slowly, as though considering, then, “I was fourteen, maybe fifteen. He had me backed against the kitchen table. He was drunk. Throwing punches. Not caring what part of me he hit
or a meat knife. Just the kind you’d use to eat your eggs or scrape butter onto bread. But it’s what was in my hand. I stabbed him. I sank it into his chest. It went between his ribs
and falls; rises and
then, “No. I was shocked; in pain from the beating he’d already given
“Where to?”
the army. You know the kind of thing. ‘Learn skills. Become a man.’ But I was too young, and
“They wouldn’t have jailed you. Not for defending yourself. And you were a
much did you know of the world at that age? I’d run a knife into a man and watched him die at my feet. I thought they’d lock me up and throw
Charlotte’s face goes slack…
Jenkins…
mirror of what happened to her at the
she’d
She ran…
And she kept running…
on the cargo ships. There’s destinations where they don’t ask too many questions so long as you
unfolds his arms, leans forward.
I moved around a lot. Congo, Chad, Central African Republic…
again. “Those were dangerous places to be. And
Klempner’s voice is languid, almost bored, but his gaze
you doing?
her, then back to Klempner,
shrugs. “There’s always a war to be found in that
blanks over for a moment, then refocuses. “You were
“I was. Yes.”
you do something
“It’s a living.”
“But it’s so dangerous.”
head tilts. “Compared
She holds…
gentle. “A piece of advice, for what it is worth to you. If you find yourself in a dangerous situation,
me. You wouldn’t
the run,” he says,
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