Chapter 13: Trials and
Tribulations
Hours
later, Vertier finally released the young Vicomte from his questioning,
sending him back to his chateau like a petulant child. He needed to think on this matter, for the Vicomte's
story was nothing short of an epic, even from a secondary character's point of
view. A horrifically deformed man lived
beneath the Opera, "haunting" the place for money... most likely
because his looks would prevent him from any sort of normal employment. It was unfair to the management, of course,
but ingenious nonetheless. And this man
had made the mistake of falling in love with a young singer, already betrothed
to the Vicomte. The voice
lessons and such, Vertier attributed to the typical eccentricity found in most
people of extreme intelligence.
This would
undoubtedly be an interesting case, one capable of sending him to the height of
his profession. He'd be promoted to
head inspector in no time, finally dealing with white-collar murders and
intricate theft rings, rather than the two-bit burglaries he now dealt
with. Yet, this case attracted him with
more than just the promise of fame and respect. Any of the other officers would track this man down and hunt him
out like some wild bear in the forest, barely stopping to ponder that he was a
human being. Vertier knew better, a
writer at heart, he could see the story behind all of the murders and
mayhem. He bothered himself less about
the actual crimes and more about the reasoning behind them.
With a
determined air of haste, he quickly pulled on his hat and coat. It was the library for him, perhaps the
Academy of Music later... wherever he could find the plans to the Paris
Opera. In order to solve this mystery
without someone breaking his neck, he would need to be more than passably
knowledgeable about the Opera. But
first, he needed to visit some other witnesses; Messieurs Richard Firmin
and Andre Moncharmin, the two managers of the building in question.
"You
want to know about what, Inspector?" Richard sputtered, nearly
choking on his foul-smelling cigar.
Vertier
shook his head; so far, he'd been forced to repeat almost every word he'd
said. "The Opera Ghost, monsieur....
the Phantom. Surely you know who I'm
talking about."
"Yes,
yes, of course we do. It's just that
police have been here many times before and their efforts were, to put it
bluntly, hazardous to their healths." Andre explained nervously.
"So I
heard." Vertier grinned.
"Nonetheless, I should like to know everything you do about
him. No opinions on him, however... I
want to know the facts, not speculation."
"Where
shall we start? He's been here longer
than we have." Andre sat at his desk, fidgeting with a fountain pen.
"Try
the beginning, when you first came to the Opera." Vertier suggested,
feeling as though he were trying to coax a frightened horse from a barn.
"Well,
it all started innocently enough. In
fact, we both thought it was some sort of prank that the old managers were
playing on us." Firmin nodded.
"It began with a simple, little note..."
Meg hummed
along with the piano happily as she practiced at the ballet bar with the other
girls. Weeks had passed since her
pivotal night with Erik. She had
returned to her mother the next day, certain that she would be worried sick,
only to find that the stern ballet mistress was practically jumping up and down
with delight. That was a sight that few
had ever beheld! At her mother's own
insistence, Meg spent most nights with Erik, gradually taking more and more of
her belongings to the house on the lake.
By the next week, Meg would be virtually moved in with Erik.
Not an
unpleasant thought by any means.
"All
right, then." Madame Giry called attention. "You have an hour for lunch, girls. I expect you back at these bars by two
o'clock on the dot."
In the
ensuing rush for the doors, Meg ducked over to the deep windowsill where her
bag was normally kept, perching herself on its ledge to take off her
slippers. As she untied the wide
ribbons around her leg, she heard two of the other girls talking in the next
sill over. At first, she paid little
attention to what she assumed was the typical petty gossip of the theater.
"He's
tall and handsome, and an inspector with the Surtete to boot! If he solves this one, he'll be making more
money than any of us will ever see."
"What's
his name?"
"Georges
Vertier. I tell you, if anyone can
catch the ghost, it's him."
Meg jerked
her head up suddenly. The management
had hired another detective to hunt down Erik?
She'd assumed they believed him dead after the night Christine left
him.
"What
makes you so sure that he'll succeed?"
"He
has a reliable witness who says that the Phantom killed Delacroix while he was
on his way back home in his carriage.
Delacroix's neck was broken, you know, straight through the bone. Besides, this gentleman's far more clever
than the other inspectors. Word is that
he studied with that detective over in London, the one with funny
name?"
Without
bothering to hear anymore, Meg grabbed her bag and dashed to her dressing room,
pushing through the mirror as though her life depended on it. In her haste, she stumbled a few times on
her way down. She had to warn Erik of this
disturbing news! For all she knew, this
Vertier person could be down in the cellars now!
She burst
through the main doors to find Erik calmly poised at the pipe organ with a pen,
writing music down on one of the hundreds of sheets present.
"Erik!"
she exclaimed, having thoroughly convinced herself that he was in the custody
of the police.
He jumped
up, startled. "Meg! You truly need to stop doing that to
me." He grinned, the smile fading as he saw the fear and concern in her
eyes. "Ma cherie, good God,
what's wrong?" he quickly sat her on the couch, fearing that she might
faint.
"The
management, they know that you're not dead!
Someone saw you kill Delacroix!
They've hired a new detective from the Surtete! Everyone's sure that he'll catch you!"
she babbled breathlessly.
"Calm
down, Meg. It's all right." he
said softly, holding her tightly and using his voice to soothe her. "Now, slow down and tell me what
happened."
Immediately
sedated by Erik's touch, Meg took a deep breath and tried again. "I heard two of the other girls talking
after rehearsal. They said that the
management hired another inspector from the Surtete to catch you. That someone had seen you when you killed
Delacroix and knew that it was the Phantom.
This one's very quick, Erik.
Apparently he trained with London's Holmes. I guess I panicked and ran down here to warn you."
"Another
detective to solve the Phantom of the Opera?" Erik repeated, shaking his
head. "Even if I didn't interfere
with their investigation, they'd be hard put to the task to even find me. I sealed off all of the old passages and use
different ones now, you know that.
However, for future reference, what is this intrepid explorer's
name?"
"Georges
Vertier, if I recall correctly."
"I'll
keep that name in mind. In the
meantime, what do you propose I do, Meg?" he nuzzled her hair gently.
"Just
be careful. No one in the world is more
intelligent than you, Erik. If anyone
can avoid Vertier, it's you. Just don't
go risking anything, please? Promise me?"
she looked up at him with wide green eyes.
"I
promise. I won't tempt fate." he
smiled gently.
"I
love you. I don't want to lose
you."
"The
same goes for me, mon amour."
Vertier
stood outside the main door of Erik's home, listening intently to the
conversation within. His plan had
worked perfectly! Little Meg Giry had
led him straight to the Phantom, just as the Vicomte had told him she
would. She'd also unwittingly confessed
that this Erik had indeed killed the dancer and was responsible for the
misfortunes that had befallen all other investigations previously.
If he
hadn't been alone and quite sure that his strength was no match for Erik's,
Vertier would've arrested the culprit right now. But, Holmes had always said to analyze the situation and
formulate the best plan of attack before rushing in over your head. He would have to bide his time and devise a
plan first.
Step
one, find villain… check.
Step two,
research… in progress.