Christine could do nothing but wait anxiously for the station to close at the end of the day. Nadir and Antoinette were in firm agreement that something wasn't right with Edwards - but they both knew how difficult it would be to take down a police chief. They spent time at Nadir's station as he began to compile information and recorded their official statements on what their dealings with him had been, and after that they all went to see Philippe.
Antoinette and Erik's office was closed until late in the evening, and as such there was no one there to hear the phone ringing, someone at the opera house calling over and over again only to be met with blank silence.
None of the three happened to see Philippe watching them approach the mansion from an upper level window, how he peered down in fear, hoping the curtain would hide most of him.
What were they doing here? What did they want? He had only wanted his brother back, for goodness's sake! He didn't know how many of the other police officers were in league with Edwards - that was why he had gone to a private investigator in the first place! How foolish he had been... And what a nasty surprise it had been to see Edwards there in the office with that Erik fellow and the woman... They were all in on it together, he was certain!
All he had to do now was keep a low profile and pay back Edwards as quickly as he could, then he could finally get Raoul back safe and sound. He didn't want to anger Edwards any more than he already had by blabbing to the investigators. He hadn't let anything about the parties slip! He had been good! Except for going behind his back and trying to get the boy returned without fully paying off his debts... But really, how was he to have known that Raoul had invested practically every last dime of the de Chagny fortune in the opera house?
He felt regret that Christine had been dragged into this, of course. She was a good soul - she'd never be involved with gambling or crooked police officers, so the only reason she must there on his doorstep was as a hostage.
He quickly instructed his servants to inform any visitors at the door that he was not on the premises. He had no wish to talk to anyone about anything, especially when he didn't know who he could trust.
The trio lingered there, asking the doorman what time Philippe would be back and where he had gone, but the man regretfully informed them that he wasn't certain. Eventually they left, no more answers in hand than they had had that morning.
Edwards was preparing to call it a day and leave the office. It had been a particularly trying time for him recently - that oaf in the mask seemed to thwart his plans at every turn - and his imbecile henchmen had continually failed him. How hard was it to shoot a man, really?
Not to mention the amount of people getting dragged into this now - more people meant more lose ends, and though Edwards was good at tying up loose ends, it annoyed him to have so many. He still wasn't certain about that Persian fellow - he'd come too close to asking too much about the boy.
Which reminded him - he'd need to inform the coroner of what he wanted the autopsy results to be. Strangulation, not a gunshot wound. He'd put the pressure on Philippe to have him buried as soon as possible, so no one would know otherwise. He supposed he'd have to cancel some fraction of Philippe's debt... And, if he was finding it difficult to motivation to finish repaying whatever was left, well - who would question the Comte's sudden suicide after the loss of his dear little brother?
Erik might have messed up a number of things for him, but at least this part of his plan was going correctly - assuming that drunk at the opera house did his job right.
Before he left the police station, he wanted to see one last thing.
Edwards stood in front of the cell, staring down at Erik who was facedown on the floor where he had been pushed. He hadn't moved from the position since that morning, and he seemingly hadn't stopped weeping, either.
Edwards tilted his head as he watched him. The man he'd sent to lure him into the opera house basement had had very many things to say about Erik's face - or lack of face, and Edwards was terribly curious to see it.
"Your friend is gone, Erik. He abandoned you," he taunted, smirking at how Erik flinched at the words as he continued to sob softly.
"Get up!" Edwards shouted suddenly, slamming his hands on the bars.
The ringing noise echoed through the room and reverberated off the walls. Erik scrambled backwards away from him, pressing himself up against the back wall.
Edwards chuckled at the look of fear in Erik's eyes as he stared up at him.
"Look at you, what a far cry from that intimidating detective you were just a few days ago," he mocked.
"W-why are y-you doing this?" Erik choked out, his shoulders shaking. He would have hated how weak he seemed in that moment, but with every fiber of his being lit up with fear he had no room for self-loathing.
Edwards's laugh rang out.
"Do you think I'd tell you?"
Erik merely blinked and tried to breathe. His mind couldn't make sense of it all, and that only panicked him further.
Edwards leaned in close and lowered his voice.
"Don't worry, Erik - you won't have to think about it much longer. You've been a pain in my ass, you know - if I had my way I'd shoot you right now and be done with it. But do you realize how many questions, how many problems, that would raise?" he chuckled. "You probably do. So now you get another handful of days left, however long before I can pull some strings and get your case expedited... Do you know how easy it is to bribe a judge, Erik?"
He pulled back from the bars, straightening.
"But that doesn't matter now," he continued. "All that matters is there's proof enough to convict you for the Vicomte's murder, and soon enough you won't be a problem anymore. How will it feel, Erik, to meet your end with the very same weapon you use?"
Erik pulled his knees to his chest. So it would be the gallows, then. Of course it would.
"I-I'll tell," he couldn't even manage to get the words out without stuttering.
Edwards reached into his pocket and Erik flinched, but all he pulled out was a pack of cigarettes and a match.
"Tell who?" he mused calmly as he light his cigarette.
Erik stared, eyes wide.
"There won't be anyone to tell, no one who cares - not once you're transferred first thing tomorrow," he put the match out with a swish of his hand. "You'll be going to a jail where no one cares about the ravings of a criminal."
The words stung more than Edwards could possibly have realized. A criminal. He wasn't wrong in calling Erik that. Erik couldn't deny that he was criminal, but he truly hadn't committed this crime. Life was unfair, and in even in doling out justice it still managed to prove just how unfair it really was.
Edwards stayed and tried to get more reactions out of him, but Erik barely registered that he was there. Eventually he left, leaving Erik in outward silence with only the screaming in his mind to keep him company.
Nadir sighed as he prepared the horse carriage for the journey. He would drive and Christine would sit in the back, curtains drawn tightly shut so no one could see inside.
"When you get there," he warned her. "You might not like what you see."
She nodded resolutely, still determined to see him, and got into the carriage.
The sun had already set, and by the time they reached the station he was certain it would be deserted. Sure enough, there was no one in sight when they pulled up, and Christine made no sound as she leapt to the ground. He quickly explained to her where the cells were, and then entered the building first.
The night watchman was there, and Nadir asked to see the lost and found, showing him his badge and explaining that he was here earlier.
"I think I might have left my reading glasses here earlier, and I really do need those back, I'm afraid."
The watchman took him to a closet and helped him to search, distracted enough to not see Christine slip inside.
She made her way to the cells as Nadir had told her. Her heart sank at the sight of Erik huddled in the corner.
"Oh, Erik," she sighed. "Erik, it's me - it's Christine."
She approached slowly, fighting back tears. He looked up at her with unfocused eyes, no recognition of who she was. Those amber eyes, eyes she had at times considered the fierce eyes of a predatory beast, now reduced to the eyes of a frightened and caged animal.
She sunk down to her knees on the floor and reached an open hand through the bars towards him.
"Angel," she whispered.
He flinched back from her hand as though it were a fist raised to strike him. She pulled her hand back and wiped at the tears that were coursing down her face.
"I told you that you wouldn't like what you saw," Nadir murmured, quietly walking close to them.
"What's wrong with him?" she whispered.
"He was forced to run away from home when he was a very small child," Nadir told her softly. "He was picked up by the traveling circus after that. For years he was displayed as an oddity, bound and tied and shown without his mask. They kept him in a cage."
"Oh, oh..." Christine wept, leaning against the bars.
Erik's stared off into the distance as though they weren't even there.
"He escaped, obviously," Nadir continued. "But by then the damage had been done. I think- I think his mind goes back to that time when he's in a situation like this. I don't think he knows where he is."
Christine watched him silently for a moment and sniffed hard.
"We have to break him out," she finally said.