A/N: I'm reporting this because of a misspelling in the Arabic. A big thanks to Nanees for your help!
Part Twenty-Three: Nur el kamar
Mathurin La Chance saw the woman as she reached the door. Stepping forward he grasped her arm. "Madame, I need to speak with you."
The eyes that looked at him were not blue. Looking at the woman's frightened face, he stuttered, "I'm…I'm sorry I mistook you for…"
"Clément!"
Something very solid landed on La Chance's shoulder. He stepped away quickly, but could not duck the meaty fist swinging towards his face. Not the nose again, he thought miserably.
La Chance used his hands to walk himself up the side of the building from his seat on the ground. Holding a hand out, he attempted to ward off the huge man. "Sorry, a mistake." Snatching up his hat he ran for the corner of the street.
Clément stepped close to Ursulé. "Are you alright my dear?"
Ursulé blinked in surprise. "Yes. This is that awful reporter. He must be pursuing Mirielle again."
Mirielle had just stepped inside her door when Catherine and Ursulé looked up from the small sofa. Both of the women leaped to their feet. "Another box has come for you," Catherine told her.
Hanging up her coat, Mirielle looked at the package on the table. A larger rectangle than a box of chocolates, it was flat as well. She took the scissors that Ursulé offered and snipped the strings off of the box.
Inside was something wrapped in tissue paper, and on the top was one of Erik's notes. She sat down on the edge of the sofa with her roommates perched on either side. Running a finger under the flap, they each held their breath.
For my nur el kamar – my light of the moon
Erik
There were three deep sighs as they re-read the note. Mirielle left it in her lap and lifted the top off the box.
Catherine leaned back, looking across Mirielle's back at Ursulé. Mirielle ran a hand over the dark silken material. "Is it a scarf?"
Finding an edge, she pinched the material between her fingers and lifted. With a whisper the diaphanous material unfolded, her roommates gasped.
"Is it some sort of veil?"
Ursulé shook her head, her eyes growing large. "I read about it. It's what the Arab women wear."
Catherine blinked. "On what? Their hair?" She watched as Mirielle spun the object. "Oh my God, it's some sort of unmentionable!"
"No, it's all they wear," Ursulé squeaked.
Mirielle held it in one hand and ran her other hand inside. "Where can you wear something like this? It's absolutely transparent."
She glanced into the box. Another dark something lay there. Lifting it, it kept unfolding. At least it would cover more than the other piece. She stood, holding it up. "Trousers?"
"Pajamas?"
Catherine tittered. "It's definitely for bed."
Ursulé blushed furiously, a finger to her lips. "That's rather forward isn't it?"
Catherine guffawed. "Oh, I'll say he's going to be forward when he sees Mirielle in that!"
Ursulé looked at the filmy articles. "Are you going to wear it, Mirielle?"
"Not outside in November," she muttered. Picking up the piece that must replace her chemise, she giggled. "It is very risqué isn't it?"
Catherine sat back, giggling and pointing at Ursulé who looked scandalized.
"It's for those harem women. They live in palaces and dress in those sorts of things at the beck and call of their husbands," Ursulé added.
Catherine fanned her face. "Is it getting warmer in here?" She gave Mirielle a nudge in the ribs. "Are you going to be at his beck and call?"
Mirielle gave a rich, sultry laugh. "We'll see who does the beckoning."
Louis Garineau glanced at the side of the building. "You have permission to get on the premises?"
"Of course." La Chance talked slowly, as it reciting to a child. He held up a key for the man to see. "The Managers have been most appreciative of my efforts."
Garineau sniffed. "I don't care; I just don't want to get arrested." He paused to gather the leads of the three large hounds in his rawboned hand. "And if any of my dogs gets hurt, you get the bill."
La Chance looked down at the dogs, who examined him with a touch more intelligence than their handler. As long as their noses worked, they would be worth the money he had spent to bribe one of the door closers for a key and the ticket booth attendant for the time to enter the building unseen.
On the eastern side of the back of the building, they passed into the wan light given off by the lamp perched next to the stage exit. Using the key, La Chance pushed open the door and walked purposefully inside. Waving Garineau in, La Chance wasted no time finding the area that lead to the foyer, and out into the hallways of the main entrance.
Glancing back as they passed plush velvet settees, paintings, and mirrors, he watched Garineau gape while the dogs appeared unimpressed. Leading him upward, they entered the hall that led to box five.
The hounds went to work, immediately, nosing along the floor, the seats and finally along the walls. Garineau chivied them on, "Ready, boys?" he asked excitedly. "Come on! We have a ghost to catch!"
The three large dogs nearly bowled La Chance as they took immediate interest in the wall. I've wasted my money, he though disgustedly. Especially when he noticed one of the 'boys' was not. Good lord. Maybe the four legged visitors were smarter than the two-legged one.
"We'll start on the stage," he told the man. "There are a lot of trap doors down there that he is reputed to use.
"We need something to hold the scent."
La Chance took out his handkerchief and wiped it over the rail, and the seats. Bringing it to the dogs, they turned with interest towards it.
Arriving on the stage, La Chance walked along the floor noticing marks. No doubt these were for positions for the current production. After a while of wandering, he turned, hearing Garineau, "That's it, get it."
One of the dogs was pawing the floor. Pushing it aside, La Chance pulled out a pen knife and slid it along the opening between the boards. After experimenting with how deep to delve, and pushing away wet noses, the door finally dropped downward.
La Chance grabbed the edges of the gaping hole, one of the hounds wedged its head under his arm and nearly overbalanced him. Giving way to the beast, he heard it whine as it looked into the darkness. Unease spider-walked cold little fingers up his back.
Finding a lantern wasted more time, but revealed a set of steep stairs. Descending first, he watched the hounds move swiftly down the steps trailing their master. Heads down, they searched the room and found more stairs.
Twice more the search went on, until one stopped and stretched out with it head lowered. Galineau stood watching until La Chance asked, "Did he find something?"
Galineau looked at the dog and then La Chance. "I don't know." He shook the lead. "I guess so."
La Chance passed the lantern into his hands. "I'll look it over," he muttered. Squatting by the hound he saw what could be the edge of a short door. Pushing crates aside, he pushed on the door and it swung outward into another darkness.
"At last," he breathed. Duck-walking through the door after the hound he moved into a bricked passage. Letting the dog decide, they followed it along to transverse under the stage and back to the east side of the building.
La chance had no way of knowing, that was the worst decision he had made that day.
They pressed on in the circle of light provided by the lantern. Occasionally one of the dogs would lift its head a pause, looking at a section of the walls. Doors they came across were only tiny, overfilled storerooms.
They came to a larger room that opened off of the hall, following the hounds that had picked up the pace. Inside the room were pipes and some sort of metal objects sitting atop of them as they came into the room and cross connected to a maze of more pipes.
"What's this? Water?"
La Chance took the lantern and leaned nearer one of the metal boxes. The letters jumped out at him. "Gas!"
With a hard yank he pulled the lantern away, hearing it connect with Garineau. In his haste, La Chance stepped back and tripped over the suddenly alert dogs.
He flung out his hands to cushion his fall. The dogs leaped out of the way, pulling Garineau into him. The lantern hit the stone floor, its light thrown up one wall as it rolled over.
Scrambling to get to the lantern, he reached it with outstretched fingers. La chance managed to set it upright when he heard the voice.
"What are you two fools doing?" The voice was raspy. La Chance pushed Garineau out of the way in an effort to see the Ghost.
Framed in the doorway was a tall man dressed in a dark greatcoat, its collar pulled up around his face. A dark felt hat rested on his head, its large brim covering most of the face.
La Chance climbed to his feet with the lantern. "Searching for you, Monsieur Ghost!" He announced triumphantly.
The dogs moved forward, sniffing at the man. For man he was, living and breathing. The head cocked under the hat. A sound that might have been a laugh broke the air. "The Ghost? He stays to the other side of the cellars. This side is mine."
La Chance felt his stomach lurch. "Who are you?"
A hand whipped out of the coat, unfolding a wallet that revealed a badge of some sort. "Percival dit LaFougère." He paused grandly. "Inspector in the services of the Emperor's Security, Special Detail."
"What?"
A chin appeared, and two very sharp eyes. "They call me the Man in the Felt Hat. And you two idiots are under arrest."
The tall man pulled La Chance and Garineau out of the room by the scruff of their necks, dogs in tow. Except for one, who turned to pad silently into the dark corridor with her nose to the floor.