Happy Saturday! I've been in a bit of a funk today... I blame the sudden return of dreary weather. Or that this chapter wouldn't upload. Or maybe it's that I got a review on Amazon saying that I have a, "Strange, confusing writing style." *shrugs* Regardless, it's always wonderful to come back here where you guys are kind and encouraging!

Anyway, who's ready for some real answers? I think I am!

Onward!

XXV

The man appeared to slump against his bonds, tired and worn even as he stared at Erik. "What more can you want from me? I already told you what I've done. I killed him. Keeping all of us locked up forever isn't going to change that!"

Erik hummed softly. "No, perhaps not, given that I believe you on that front. But you cannot honestly expect me to believe that the matter is closed—that you have told me all of what happened in this entire messy business."

Mr. Debienne's eyes shuttered. "You know the important things."

Erik scoffed. "Do I? Tell me, was it your idea then that the murder should be pinned on me? Just another happening for the illustrious Opera Ghost, was it?"

He shook his head. "You tried to kill Buquet. You probably did succeed with others! Why was it such a terrible thing to bring you to justice with a case that could actually incarcerate you? You cannot stand there and tell me that you are not a murderer!"

Christine waited for the denials. The angered affront or wave of his elegant hands as he dismissed the charge. But instead he grew quiet, leaning forward ever so slightly as he stared at the man before him. "I am not the one who is going to absolve my conscience through this trial. You are, Debienne. And causing our sweet judge to question my character is not going to bode well for you."

Mr. Debienne shot her a harried glance, and as Christine stared back…she realized that Erik hadn't denied it at all.

Her breath quickened and suddenly…

She didn't want to play anymore.

She nearly stood, walked through the large doors to wait in the lobby once more, knowing perfectly well that he would follow her. She could berate him there in private, for tricking her, for practically seducing her, perhaps not in body but very much so in mind.

Except…

She forced herself to take a deep breath, pushing away her call to rashness. Erik had a past, of that she was certain. It would not be pleasant, it would not be filled with delightful breakfasts and loving embraces, but hurts and pain and despair the likes of which she could only imagine.

And perhaps in the midst of that, death had also reached him, whether by his will or by his design.

But at the very least she could give him the benefit of listening.

Of trying to understand.

But they most certainly would betalking about this.

She settled back into her chair, feeling the need to embrace the role she had found so exciting just a moment before. "Yes, Mr. Debienne," she added in her best mimicry of Erik's own droll intonation. "Do be so kind as to simply enlighten us as to the circumstances surrounding this case. Unless Erik's past dealings somehow coincide with your own admitted murder, it isn't relevant." She toyed with her gavel delicately, the perfect picture of disillusioned judgeship. Or at least she hoped so. "And if you don't cooperate I will be forced to charge you with contempt! And that will just prolong everything, and I'm quite ready to know the truth! So do not try my patience!"

Unlike the fear that Erik seemed to inspire in these defendants, Christine gathered three incredulous stares as they regarded her, and it took every bit of will not to shift uncomfortably from their looks.

Erik however was smirking at her, not in mockery, but in… appreciation?

It made her stomach give that funny flip again.

She couldn't feel that way about a genuinely evil man, could she?

But he wasn't evil. Of that at least she was absolutely sure. She had come to that conclusion some time ago, when first she saw him tend to Boo with the utmost care, and the way he treated her afterward…

He wasn't a psychopath or a sociopath or whatever other paths got bandied about when discussing murderous tendencies—assuming of course that it was true he had such things. He felt. He cared. He… he loved. Perhaps not in conventional ways. But almost more deeply, more reverently, as if the emotions were all the more pure and precious because they had been deeply and cruelly honed through a lack of reciprocity.

"Well?" Erik questioned. "Are you going to heed our judge's warnings, or are you going to continue to glare at me so effectively?"

Mr. Debienne rolled his eyes, but his attention remained directed at Christine. "I still don't understand how you can censure me when you're complying with this man!" He tilted his chin pointedly at Erik, and even as she looked at him, Christine already knew the simple explanation for it.

"Because he was truthful with me, Mr. Debienne. He has been since I came here. But you've tried to hide your shame with lies and injustice, and I can't just ignore that."

Debienne grunted. "And you think this was justice done? That I be held captive?"

Christine's lips thinned. "I think that when you are convicted, your cell would have a similar lack of luxuries. And here at least you do not have to fear other inmates."

This time Erik gave a grimace and once more Christine felt for the poor man. She did not know much about the justice system, of the differences between a prison and a jail meant for housing defendants while they awaited trial, but still she knew that he suffered. That people were cruel and he was not even allowed to cover his face in order to stem any more abuses.

At least Mr. Debienne was on the handsome side. Although perhaps in prison that was not such a good thing either.

"Did anyone help you with this scheme, Mr. Debienne," she pressed, her eyes flickering to Ms. Poligny and her steady glare at the man beside her. "Did she have a hand in her husband's death?"

"I pulled the trigger," he repeated firmly. "I held the gun to his head and fired. I felt his blood on my face and hands and even in my mouth as his brain quite literally exploded."

Christine tried to keep from picturing it. Those were nightmares she would gladly never suffer.

"That isn't what I asked," she reminded him, trying to keep her voice from shaking. Erik gave her a concerned look, and she could only offer a weak smile in response.

"Have you ever broken a promise?" he asked her, still dismissing her actual enquiry.

She hesitated, wanting to say no. That would require having someone to make promises to, something she was sorely lacking in. But she remembered how she had vowed to remain where she was the day before, only to drift into the lobby and much to the detriment of Erik's fears and fragile trust.

"We should keep to our word," she confirmed. "But that does not make your actions all right. It won't make you an honorable man to keep silent."

"No, it certainly won't. But at least it won't further my sins either by betraying a confidence."

Erik huffed out a humorless laugh. "How noble of you. But your cooperation is not wholly required. Not when our other party is seated right beside you." He reached into Mr. Debienne's pocket and retrieved the gag, only to stop before returning it. "But perhaps it would be helpful if you both could speak. Erik turned to Ms. Poligny. "Surely you would like to speak to him, would you not, madam? The dear friend of your late husband?"

Her glare was fierce and mutinous as Erik removed her own gag.

"You've had your confession," she spat. "Why isn't that enough?"

"Because," Erik practically hissed, the first remnants of his rage at what had been done to him coming to the surface. "I had much time to ponder those blasted events while awaiting your trial. Time I could have spent free and with my dignity intact! And while I am quite sure that this man did precisely as he said, by no means do I believe he acted alone. For the majority of his life he has had a partner. Someone to help him think, help him to act. And this, this most risky venture of his life he decides to attempt alone?" Erik chuckled darkly. "I think not. So, what I want from you, madam, is for you to confess."

"Never!" she spat, her face twisted into an ugly scowl.

"Jennifer," Mr. Debienne murmured, his eyes flitting between Erik and the woman. "Maybe it would be best. He's just going to keep us longer until we…"

"Shut up!" she screeched. "There is no we. You said it yourself. You pulled the trigger. You killed your dearest friend because he wouldn't listen to you about selling the theatre. That rests solely on your shoulders so I don't know why everyone keeps dragging me into it!"

"Madam," Erik purred, his voice turning to silk. "You are not leaving this place until you tell me what you have done. Until those words leave your lips. Until you convince me that you have told the court every part of your schemes."

"I…"

"You want to go home, do you not?"

"Jennifer, for pity's sake, just tell him!"

"You do not want to spend yet another night locked away in the dark. Scrambling about in the blackness as you try to find water and use the facilities…"

"Jen, please, I want to leave here. This wasn't worth it. None of this was worth it."

Christine watched as her resolute expression seemed to dissolve, leaving behind a frantic appearance as she shook her head furiously, almost as if trying to shut out the voices swirling about her. "Stop it! Both of you, please!" She looked over at Mr. Debienne. "You think he'll let us go home? If I tell him everything, that we'll just leave this place and be free? You're a fool for thinking it! The only reason we're still alive is because I haven't talked! Don't you see?"

Mr. Debienne paled and gave a frightened glance toward Erik. He stood at his full height, staring down at his defendants with his arms crossed, utterly silent on the subject of their future wellbeing.

Mr. Debienne's attention shifted to Christine. "What about you? Are you going to let him kill us for what we've done? What about law and justice and all those things you said mattered?"

Christine swallowed. "I don't… I don't know what he's planned for you. All I know is that I can ask him not to hurt you. To find a better way to deal with you both for your crimes in a way that won't also put a mark upon his soul."

Erik turned to her then, his eyes questioning. She gave a little shrug, feeling wholly unqualified to speak on the subject. She was no great scholar, theologian, or even an attorney, well versed in the nuisances of law and their greater purpose.

"They always say that revenge is not nearly as sweet as you'd think it to be. That it often costs more than it is worth. And I'd rather think you'd like the chance of a future rather than simply to end theirs."

A future with me, she did not add, although from the way he looked at her, she could have sworn that he heard it anyway.

He turned back to his captives, still the pillar of sheer intimidation that he was before. "If it pleases the court, I will not exact their punishment myself."

Ms. Poligny stared up at him suspiciously. "That doesn't tell me what you will do."

Erik was clearly losing patience. "Madam, at this moment I am liable to rifle through my stores and return with a dose of sodium thiopental to speed things along!"

At her blank stare his upper lip gave a subtle quiver, almost a sneer. "More commonly known as truth serum."

She rolled her eyes. "That only works in the movies."

Erik leaned closer, and Christine saw the look of disgust that crossed her features to have him so close, and she felt a moment's anger on his behalf—only to feel conflicted at her reaction. To this woman he was nothing but a kidnapper so of course she would not want him anywhere near her. But still she remembered her outburst in the courtroom, her cutting words and utter disgust at Erik's very personage, and Christine was not quite ready to forgive such a thing.

"Are you absolutely certain? Perhaps you would find it comforting to know then that it is also one of the three chemicals so carefully selected for the final cocktail for an inmate receiving a lethal injection. So maybe it will not alter your mind and coax you into speaking. Perhaps it will simply cause your brain to cease communication with the rest of your body. You know, those inconsequential functions such as breathing and heart rate."

Ms. Poligny flinched, her eyes assessing. "How do I know if that's really what that does?"

Erik gave a half-shrug and backed away. "You do not. Which is precisely my point. You seem to believe that you hold more power in this situation than you do. I am simply reminding you that should I so choose, I could inject you with any number of poisons. It would be much better for your sake that you cooperate of your own volition. Or is your pride greater than your desire to live?"

But it was not she who spoke, but Mr. Debienne, regardless of the shriek of protest that his Ms. Poligny gave at his confession. "It was her idea to frame you, all right? She wanted Edgar to sell and he wouldn't, so she... she met with me. She reminded me of what we stood to lose if we didn't accept the buyer's offer. She said that she had tried over and over to get Edgar to see reason but he wouldn't! What other options did we have?"

Erik stared at him incredulously. "You are in earnest? You felt you had no other options? Not a single one? You could have filed a civil claim! You could have forced him to purchase your half of the theatre! And yet you chose to listen to this scheming excuse for a woman and murdered him." Erik's eyes shifted to the still silent Mr. Nadir. "Your friend."

And this time there was no denying the curve of his lips as if the very term disgusted him.

Not for the first time did Christine wonder what had happened between these two men.

Mr. Debienne appeared almost petulant as he looked at Erik, his voice nearly a whine as he defended himself. "That would have taken time! And that was something we didn't have!"

Ms. Poligny's eyes had hardened the longer her partner spoke, and this time her voice was venomous and spiteful as she addressed Erik once more. "I had no idea you cared for dear Edgar so very much. Tell me, were you the reason he wouldn't sell this place? Had you found someone to make your hauntings less…lonely, so nothing his dear wife said mattered any longer?"

Her implication was obvious and Christine drew in a sharp breath at how utterly still Erik grew as he stared down at her. She had called him a thing, had expressed complete revulsion at the notion of being with Erik, yet now thought that her husband had…

Christine gave her gavel a sharp whack, this time intentionally making it overly fervent so as to make every member in the room wince at its volume.

"That's enough!" She insisted, unwilling to allow things to continue in this vein. "Ms. Poligny, are you going to say anything useful or should I ask the prosecutor to restore your gag?"

The woman snorted. "I thought you wanted me to speak."

Christine's lips thinned. "I want to know the truth, but so far it seems only Mr. Debienne is interested in providing it. You are far more concerned about angering Erik, and that bodes well for no one."

Erik sniffed and turned away from the wretched woman, taking a step nearer to Christine.

"Well?" Christine pressed. "Would you like to make your own story known or shall we rely upon Mr. Debienne's rendition?"

She chuffed out a large breath, obviously considering. "I don't believe for a moment that our lives won't end the moment I'm done speaking."

Christine inclined her head ever so slightly in acknowledgment. "And if I was in your position and had done the terrible things that you have, I would likely fear the same." Christine sighed, feeling distinctly uncomfortable at trying to empathize with her—not when she was angry and indignant over her continued attitude toward Erik.

Regardless of his status as her kidnapper.

She liked to think she had behaved much better in her early days with him, at least being more polite and understanding than Ms. Poligny.

Yet she wanted this to be over, and it seemed that being stubborn and threatening was getting nowhere with her.

"You have your own perspective, your own reasons for acting the way you did, and I think it would bother you to allow things to be so one-sided. It seems to be important to you to be heard, in your marriage and in general, and you get… angry when you aren't."

Ms. Poligny sent her a nasty look. "Don't think you know me, girl."

Christine shook her head ruefully. "I wouldn't dream of it. But I want this to be over, don't you?"

The woman was quiet for a moment, her eyes drifting to Erik. "I don't want to die," she corrected, her voice not wavering even the littlest bit. "I might not have convinced you that I'm interested in the truth, but you have yet to convince me that you don't mean to kill us all."

Erik opened his mouth in what Christine was certain would be a scathing retort, but she cut in quickly. "I'm the judge here," she reminded everyone, especially Erik. "He made me so himself and gave me this lovely gavel today to solidify my position." She ran her thumb over the smooth wood, giving him a hesitant smile as she caught him looking at her. "And because of that, it's my job to see that the punishment is carried out. And I can assure you, I don't intend to witness any executions today."

And she prayed that Erik did not expect her to.

"Was it your idea to send the letter to him?" Christine prodded gently.

Ms. Poligny remained silent and Christine held up her hand when Mr. Debienne made to interrupt. "Give her a minute to do the right thing."

He gave a nervous glance at Erik, but obeyed her, and finally, with a huff and a flick of her hair, crumpled and disheveled as pieces fell about her face, she relented. "All right, fine. I met with Claude. I suggested a simple way to end things where no one would suspect us. I mean, come on, we had an extortionist in the theatre for years! What was one more letter?"

Erik's expression darkened and this time Christine stood and moved closer, pushing gently until he stood behind her as she faced the woman directly. "Go on."

She shrugged, despite the bonds that tied her. "Not much else to say really. I delivered the note. I had Claude make the threatening phone call from a pay phone down the street. And then…" She stopped, the first hint of remorse in her eyes.

"Then?"

She sniffed, not one of Erik's imperious sounds, but almost as if she was trying to keep from allowing any further emotion from escaping. "He was scrambling to come up with funds. Said that the ghost really meant it this time. And I just stood there and watched him. But you know what he said? When he was looking through our accounts and trying to figure out where to pull the money from, he turned and looked at me and said, 'Maybe you were right. Maybe I should have sold it.'"

Mr. Debienne paled. "He what?"

She laughed, a thin, reedy sound. "I could have called it off! But I didn't want to. I could have called you and said that he'd come to his senses, that everything was forgotten. But I didn't! I heard you come through the door, heard you get the gun from the drawer I'd stashed it in, and then you came in… And you know? I think Edgar knew. As he sat there at his desk looking at the both of us… he knew that I had turned you, his beloved partner against him."

Ms. Poligny turned to her husband's friend, a triumphant smirk upon her face. "I think that hurt him more than anything I'd done. He knew about the affairs and he'd purse his lips and remind me not to do it in our bed. But seeing you with me, that gun in his hands… that was the most I'd been able to hurt him. Well, until I got you to pull the trigger of course."

"You… you…" Mr. Debienne struggled against his bonds his face turning an alarming shade of purple, murderous in his rage against this woman. "You bitch! He was my friend! And I… I… I protected you!"

She sank against the back of her chair, a smile still playing about her lips. "Yes, you did. And it was most chivalrous of you."

Mr. Debienne looked up at Erik, his eyes fierce and determined. "I don't care if you kill me too. I deserve it. But don't let this woman live. Just kill us both for what we did to you. I knew it was wrong, the moment you were arrested. I should have come forward and confessed everything then. But instead we let you rot. We let you suffer through strip searches and public showers and not even being able to use a toilet without someone watching. You can't tell me you don't want to kill us for that!"

"Yes," Erik answered calmly. "I do. But I won't, because the judge has made it perfectly plain that I am to be more clever than that in my dealings with you."

Christine didn't know if she should be proud of him for his restraint, or grimace because he did indeed want to kill these people before her. So instead she merely reached behind her and took his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze of encouragement.

"What you did was horrible," Christine told her gravely. "You were angry and hurt, but that is absolutely no excuse for what you did. And I think that it was only because of your influence that Mr. Debienne acted as he did, although that doesn't excuse him either. You two should be in prison for what you did, not just for killing poor Mr. Poligny, but because you let an innocent man stand trial for your own sins. And I hope that somehow we can turn you over to the police."

Ms. Poligny laughed. "And how do you intend to do that? You girl, are an accessory to kidnapping, so you and your precious prosecutor will both see prison before either of us do. So as I said, the only recourse I can find is if you kill us. Because I sure as hell won't be confessing to any crimes even if you drop me off outside a police station."

Christine glanced up at Erik worriedly. She hadn't thought through the implications of her part in things. She hadn't condoned it, had she? But she had participated. She knew where they were being kept, she could have warned someone… couldn't she?

"Erik?"

Erik stroked her thumb soothingly. "Calm yourself, Christine. There is no possibility that I would ever allow you to face incarceration, and I have no intentions of returning there myself. They are more than welcome to tell the officers about their time here. However, if they choose to do so, it is important that they realize that there will be repercussions."

Ms. Poligny stared at him warily. "Like what? According to you we'll be going to prison and since you won't be there…"

Erik smirked. "You forget the influence of money. If you so much as mention Christine or myself in any negative light, if you portray our little soiree as anything but a mutually agreed upon discourse, then I shall ensure that your time, whether in prison or outside of it if that fool prosecutor is once more put in charge of a criminal case, is as demeaning and dangerous as possible. Is this quite understood?"

Mr. Debienne was pale and shaky as he nodded his head, and Christine had no doubt that he would confess to the authorities quickly and fully when given the opportunity. He appeared a broken man, heavy burdened by the depths of his failings.

And she pitied him for it.

She reached out and patted his shoulder. "Don't try to protect her anymore," she murmured softly. "Just tell the police what you did, what she did, and serve your time quietly. At least then you can know that you finally did the right thing."

Erik tugged her away from him, and as she saw his glare, she realized that he did not at all approve of her attempts to soothe the man before her.

Was he jealous?

A funny thought.

But perhaps he coveted her gentle touches, her desire to alleviate pain, and did not like to see her offering such things to another man.

"I don't believe your power reaches as far as you'd like to think," Ms. Poligny tried again.

Erik only shrugged in response. "It is within your prerogative to believe as you will, madam. But I doubt you shall be pleased with the consequences of defying me."

Christine didn't know how he did it. But his voice curled and hardened, both caressing and biting as he threatened, leaving her absolutely certain that he did indeed wield enough influence in order to follow through with his threat.

He'd managed to leave a secure facility himself. He'd bribed a judge's son into entering his employ. And what of that security guard that seemed to know far more about her than he should?

Oh yes, Erik could do as he pleased.

And as Ms. Poligny's eyes widened at his tone, as she shuddered and finally looked at him in fear, Christine knew she recognized it too.

Christine watched as Erik replaced both their gags, the two conspirators casting each other wary glances, and she wondered what he would do with them now. Was there enough evidence to prosecute them properly? Or would they simply go free, only the memories of this trial to serve as a mimicry of justice for Mr. Poligny?

And then she turned to the third man, quite having forgotten he was there, and her brow furrowed.

"Erik," she inquired. "If they were the only ones involved in Mr. Poligny's death, why is he here?"

And she saw him smirk as he cast a dangerous glance at the last of his captives. "An excellent question, Christine. Why indeed."

Sooo... This was a long one!

Ms. Poligny might not have pulled the trigger herself, but she was certainly involved... Do you think she shares even more responsibility than her partner? And it appears that the Daroga was not complicit in the murder... so what on earth is he doing here? We finally get to hear him talk next chapter, and he has some explaining to do!