Masters & Lovers Box Set One

*****

Klempner

The cell is depressing. Not just the naked walls, the furniture bolted to the cement floor, the steel sink and toilet, but everything....

.... The constant daytime echo of footsteps on metal walkways, the murmur of my companions....

.... colleagues...?

.... carrying through from the rest of the floor, Jackson's constant fucking snoring at night....

Surely I can get my cellmate changed?

Still, he'll be gone in a month....

.... And who do I get then?

.... And the smell.... Disinfectant, sour sweat, stale tobacco, cabbage....

My door eases open and the guard stands, not exactly to attention, but respectfully. For appearance's sake, I stand. "Mr Sutcliffe?" "Mr Klempner, you have visitors."

About fucking time....

"Is it them?"

"Yes, sir. All three of them."

Well, there's a first....

So, the men kept their word.....

.... Not that they gave their word.....

"Anything I should know?"

"Not sure, sir, if it's relevant, but they opened some kind of hotel recently."

"A hotel?"

"Well, a sports centre cum spa hotel." He shrugs. "As I say, sir. I don't know if that's important."

"That's fine, Sutcliffe. I can decide that. You just keep the news coming."

"Of course, sir." His head twists at the sound of approaching footsteps outside and he widens his eyes at me, his voice suddenly gruff. "Let's be moving." "Yes, Mr Sutcliffe."

Out on the walkway, Hartland takes over, playing his usual games, talking as though I were a retarded five-year-old....

"Along you go, Larry. Let's be having you." I get a playful jab in the shoulder from his baton....

You're going to regret it one day....

.... but I make a show of lowering my head. "Yes, Mr Hartwell."

*****

In the visitor's room, she's there, seated waiting on the other side of the screen. Blondie and the other one stand behind her; a little way back, but making it clear they are listening in.... Did they tell her they came before?

She looks.... Not exactly nervous.... Wary perhaps....

Fair enough....

Be polite....

"Jennifer, good to see you. Thank you for coming."

Ah, fuck....

Bolloxed that up from the start....

Her chin juts. "It's Charlotte."

Trying to keep the irritation from my tone, "My apologies. Charlotte. Thank you for coming."

She relaxes a bit, winding a lock of hair around a finger, then, "I don't really know why I'm here, but you said you wanted me to visit and...." She jerks her head back at the two men....".... Michael and James said you helped when they came to see you...." Her eyes slit sidelong....

So, you didn't like them coming without you....

"I simply would like to see you occasionally. To talk."

"What about?"

"Anything you like." I cast around at the bleak brickwork, the guards with their fuck-you blank faces. "I'm not exactly overwhelmed by the stimulating company around here you know."

"You had years to talk to me. You never did."

"Perhaps I made a mistake." Her face sets. "I used to talk with your mother. I enjoyed that."

Her eyes suddenly gloss, and she looks down....

You really do want to find her....

.... So much the better....

.... but only for a moment. As she looks up again, her eyes are like green slate.

"What's the food like?" she asks.

Conversation?

It'll be the weather next....

"There's plenty of it," I say, "if you like cabbage...."

A smile flits across her lips. "Do you?"

"I used to."

Again, that ghost-smile, but apparently her supply of small-talk is exhausted.

"How did you meet my mother?"

Now we come to it....

"She was in a hotel bar, soliciting.... Although in fairness, at first, I didn't realise that was what she was doing. I took her.... We took her.... for one of the hotel guests." "We?"

"Me and your father, Conners."

In the background, the two men stir, shifting on their feet. Blondie looks interested. Alexanders pulls up a chair to sit beside her....

Is he limping?

He doesn't speak but nods Jennifer back to me. She looks a little uncertain, but then, "What do mean, you took her for a guest?"

I give her a long look....

Is that a genuine question?

Perhaps....

"Your mother was sitting at the bar with a collection of shopping bags. Designer stuff. Expensive...."

Still, she looks blank.

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No, she really doesn't get it....

".... It's a technique used by some of the up-market pros...." I explain. ".... Hanging out in the lounge of some expensive hotel. The managers don't like it, so they bring bags of new stuff with them; shoes, jewellery; all designer names, as though they are just wealthy women, out shopping and stopping for a drink, or waiting for someone."

Something flows across her face....

Surprise...?

.... Understanding....

I'm missing something....

"Why were you in a hotel with my father?"

"We were in a business meeting together."

Her brows shoot up, her mouth making an 'O'. Alexanders and Blondie look equally surprised. Blondie snags another chair, to sit beside her also.

"You were in business together?" Her voice quavers. "He.... He was a trafficker too?"

"No, not that kind of business. He was a real estate agent. He was locating property for me."

Relief washes across her face....

.... And for the first time, I realise the depths to which she despises me....

Not dislikes me...

.... Not fears me....

.... She's never feared me since she was old enough to think for herself....

But despises me....

.... And what I do....

.... Did....

"Why did you murder my father?"

"He betrayed me."

Blondie breaks in. "And that's why you killed him? You've tried to kill all of us."

"I never tried to kill her," I say, jerking my head to Jennifer. "I never wanted her dead. Just.... obedient. As for you two, I never did anything to earn your loyalty. Betrayal doesn't come into it." "Code of ethics?" says Alexanders, tonelessly.

"If you like."

"Not much, no."

Jennifer pipes up again. "Tell me about my mother."

"I told them, last time."

"It's me who wants to know."

"She was spoiled, vain. Wanted all the good things but didn't want to give anything back."

"Like what?"

I hover. I want to tell her the truth. I want her to get it. She watches me, blinking slowly as she waits for me to speak. "Herself," I say eventually.

She chews on a thumbnail, absorbing my words, then, "You mean she didn't want to be owned?"

"I suppose."

She chews on the nail again, looking away before speaking again. "Did you know where she came from?"

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"She never said. Perhaps out west somewhere..."

"Why do you say that?" asks Blondie.

I shrug. "She had a touch of something in her accent."

Jennifer sits there, just watching me....

Those eyes....

.... Even she didn't have eyes like that....

"You've not forgotten her," she says.

"I've kept track of you for over twenty years. What do you think?" Points of colour prick at her cheeks. She seems to run out of things to say.

Alexanders speaks for the first time. "Why did you take Charlotte? Why did you want a baby? We know you were in the slavery trade, but it would have taken you years to get any profit back on her. I never heard you were running any kind of adoption scam from Blessingmoors. And I don't think you're a pedophile. So even if you wanted her for herself, it would have been fifteen or twenty years before she was any use to you. Was all that for revenge?"

I rub at my forehead against the headache coming on. "Revenge partly, yes. But mainly...."

And as I look at the mother's image sitting before me, I'm reluctant to speak....

".... Mainly, I thought Mitch would come looking for her. You'd expect a mother to do that wouldn't you? When it became clear she'd abandoned the kid...."

And I stall. Jennifer's eyes are flooding. Blondie's hand shoots out, taking hers. "She did abandon me then?" Her voice chokes. "I'd always thought.... hoped...."

She's shaking. Blondie's knuckles over hers are white. Alexanders watches me with cool contempt written in his eyes, a kind of menacing nonchalance.

"I was surprised when she didn't show," I say. "She knew about Blessingmoors. She knew where to look." I sigh, rubbing at the headache again. "I'd had her down as better than that."

"Perhaps she was scared," says Alexanders.

"Scared enough not to come looking for her own baby?"

"You say she knew about Blessingmoors. Had she seen inside?"

"Yes. I wouldn't have hurt her. I just wanted her back."

"Did she know about the cellars?" He leans forwards. "I've been in those cellars," he hisses. Jennifer jerks alert again, staring at him, wiping her eyes on the back of her hand. "They're enough to scare the shit out of anyone, let alone a young woman, alone in the world."

I think back.

Was she down in the cellars?

I don't know....

"What would you have done?" says Jennifer, "If she'd come looking?"

"I don't know. Taken her somewhere I suppose. Where we could be together."

She cocks her head. "You mean, invited her to go with you? Or taken her?"

When I don't reply, she continues, "You see, I think your idea of love is ownership. And my mother didn't want to be owned."

Is that a fact?

"I know what kind of relationship you have with him." I nod at Alexanders. His chin tilts up, eyes narrowing. "What's the difference?"

She leans on the counter on folded arms, her face close to the screen. "Consent," she says quietly, eyeballing me.

"Yes? Is that why you took up with him as well as Eye-Candy there....?

Alexanders, the white showing around dark eyes, interrupts. "I'm beginning to wish I'd shot you when I had the chance."

I lean back in my seat, folding my arms as I smile. "You know what they say. No good deed goes unpunished."

"I think we've been here long enough," he says. Blondie nods agreement. "Charlotte is there anything else you want to ask?" "No. I think we've been here long enough too."

As the three turn and leave I call after them. "I'll look forward to the next visit."