The Persian sat in his chair after dinner, reading something when he suddenly, after turning the page, he dropped the book happily, just as if he went crazy. He jumped up and ran to Erik, who just finished telling Belle's bedtime story and appeared in the doorway. Mohammed caught him excitedly by the shoulder, using both hands.
- Erik…! Erik look what I can do! I can grab you by both hands!
- Thank Heavens, that is what I was praying for and lit a candle for at St. Anthony, Daroga, that you give unwanted physical contact so forcefully.
- Stop being sarcastic, I can move my left!
Erik looked at the Persian's left hand on his shoulder and nodded, realizing the truth. He smiled at his old friend, gently tapping the so long unused hand with a kind of emotion the Daroga could have described as "friendly love".
- Just take care, don't overstrain it yet.
Erik's voice became softer and he had to turn away so the other man could not see him crying, yet he exactly knew what was going on with the skeletally thin and though ex Opera Ghost.
Just to end this touching scene there was a bang on the front door and they could hear some moans. Erik was suspicious something might have gone wrong so he hurriedly, but carefully opened the door to check who that late visitor was. When he saw Mahtab with a lifeless and bleeding child in the arms, with a scared look in his eyes and slightly trembling hands and feet, he asked nothing. He knew the child needed help that instant, and they had no time to lose by questioning. It can wait. Without a word he slowly and carefully took the child, which appeared to be a tortured boy, out of his child's hand and he took the body to the dining table to examine it better, as it was the most stable spot he could find at that moment. He examined the boy from head to foot, while the Daroga walked closer with another candle, giving a deep sigh.
- I guess it wasn't you, who hurt him, Moonlight.
- Of course not. – Mahtab swallowed with disgust, thinking back to that worm.
- God, what is this…? What has happened? – Christine's worried voice rang behind their back as she walked closer to find the poor child put on the table.
- Go back to bed, Christine, Erik is going to join you soon. – Erik tried to calm her out of routine while he was looking at the boy's injuries.
- Who is this child? – Christine went on nervously.
- He is my poor son. – Mahtab replied. – I found him in a life threatening situation and I am going to make his life turn to the better. Papa, please say you can save him.
- His injuries are not too serious. He sure has concussion and broken ribs. His nose is broken and he was beaten not long before. Look at these marks, Daroga. I think he was beaten by a whip. Mahtab… have you seen an adult with him or he was alone? How did he get injured?
- There was a man. – Mahtab said softly. – He threw him to the wall of the bridge… and… well I had to save him.
- How did you save him from a grown up man? – The Daroga got a bit of suspicious.
- I just caught him up and ran.
- Did he not try to follow you? – Christine asked, stepping closer. – He could have hurt you too!
- I made sure he can't hurt anyone any more. – Mahtab whispered in front of herself, while sending a glassy glance towards her mother.
- What do you mean? – The poor woman had a jaw drop from shock, while Erik turned his head to the side to see his child's pale face as she removed the human mask tiredly, as she was sweating too much. She had to sit down on one of the dining chairs, and wipe her forehead. She felt so tired and like a helpless girl, not the strong boy he was before.
Mahtab murdered someone. Now everyone knew it. Everyone in the room. The Daroga saw the same body language on the child as he saw it on Erik after such a horrible act. And the way she intonated the words she made "sure", it did not leave a doubt in Christine's heart either that the child indeed made a hundred percent sure the man could not follow anyone any more. A shiver ran down her spine when she realized what had happened. She felt the same when Erik told her on that horrible night that the visitor will never ask the time from anyone any more. Her hands were trembling and she stared at Mahtab as if she saw her for the first time. The baby she rocked in her arms on the night of her birth now took a life of someone. How could have this happened? She knew it was a bad idea to train the child for murder. Erik turned that poor innocent girl to a murderer just in a few years. Now what shall happen…? How to go on with life with such a burden?
Everyone was silent. Mahtab was looking around in the dining room just as she saw it for the first time, and tried her best not to faint. She recognized everyone in the room, of course, yet all of the people, except her father seemed to be so distant right now. She could feel sheer horror in those eyes, staring at her as if she was just a stranger in her own home. She did not think before and while she killed that drunkard asshole, but at that moment she realized what had she done. She lowered her head and stared at her skeletal hands for a while, not believing she could murder someone with those hands. Maybe people with these ugly hands are more able to kill people than anyone else? The worst thing was she still thought the man deserved it, and when she looked at the little boy, she reassured herself even more about she had done the right thing. She squeezed her lips together, looking into Christine's eyes with a sudden determination, sending the message "I regret nothing."
- Christine, I suggest you to go back to sleep dear. – Erik's soothing and enchanting voice filled up the room for a short period of time after a long silence. He seemed to be the first who could talk after such a shock, and he acted naturally.
Christine wasn't herself any more, after such a tragedy. She obeyed silently, just as a mindless automaton. She dd not want to and could not think of what to do and how to feel. She allowed Erik to guide her to the master bedroom, and be gently pushed down on the bed. She received the laudanum her husband's skeletal hand offered for her in a spoon, and actually thanked him in her mind for the dreamless and mindless sleep that shall follow.
When Erik returned to the others, he found Mahtab standing beside the table, gently stroking the boy's messy and dirty hair, trying her best to show love to that poor abused thing. Erik simply did not know how to feel about the happenings yet. At first, he was a bit of uncomfortable having yet another child in his home, especially a stranger. Who knows how this boy may act? Despite Mahtab's laughable nativity, which she sure inherited from Christine, Erik knew well that not all children were good. He just had to think back to his own childhood to know that he also was a terrible acting little nuisance to his mentally unstable mother, which sure made her go crazy in the end. Looking at the circumstances the boy was found in, Erik could have sworn that the boy was trained to pickpocket people, just as a real version of Oliver Twist. He was partly annoyed Mahtab had to interfere. It is better to stay out of these issues. Yet another part of his, which he thought nonexistent any more, felt sorry for the poor mistreated kid. The boy reminded him of a younger himself of course, as he was beaten so badly not once in his life. Maybe if they treat him kindly… but does he need a fifth child? Really? Well, now only one thing is sure: they nurse him back to health and his later behavior will show if they need to get rid of him or not. He had no urge to raise a troublesome kid, however abused or miserable the child would be. He was simply too old for a problem child.
- Mahtab, the boy temporarily sleeps in your bed. Please change the sheets and prepare an old pair of pajamas of one of the boys to dress him in and I throw these rags away he is wearing right now. I bet he has fleas so I don't really encourage you to pet him too much. I bathe him and he receives a badly needed haircut. And you take a bath as well. And leave him alone to rest. We will know more soon about him and that will clear things up.
Erik did not feel like bothering Mahtab with asking about the murder itself and warned the Daroga softly to leave her alone about it as well. Mohammed shook his head with a deep sigh, but did not force on the subject really. It was already late and a scandal would have woken the other children. Yet they knew well that the girl will have to reason her act and tell about the happenings.
Erik took care of the guest, he cleaned his wounds, cut all his hair and shaved the boy's head to have only a few millimeters of hair left, to get rid of lice and he threw away the boy's miserable excuse of clothing. The child looked much better as he was dressed in a clean pair of sleepwear and was cleaned properly and laid in bed. He came to consciousness a few times during the process but he said nothing and he felt lousy, so he fell back asleep and did not have any idea what was happening to him. He just hoped he won't be beaten up again soon.
Contrary to her efforts, Mahtab was unable to sleep, thinking of the act she committed nearly against her will. She found out what it was like to end a life, and it wasn't the most alarming thing she did it, but the way she felt about it. She still did not feel guilt and thought it was a well-deserved and righteous act, and the man was a horrible person and did not deserve life. Yet she knew it wasn't her job to decide if someone deserved life or not, as only God decides over life and death. Mama taught her so and she knew Mama never said false things and always wanted the best for her family. She stood up and walked to the door after some hours spent in agony and she simply needed to tell someone. As she walked out to the salon she noticed Erik's skeletal hand on the handrail of his favorite chair. He was there and did not sleep either. She walked to him and sat down, facing him, without a word at first. She looked around, searching for someone else, but the Daroga wasn't there anymore. There were just the two of them, father and daughter, two living skeletons without mask or any disguise. The naked truth, raw feelings. For a time they were just looking into each other's eyes, but after a long silence Mahtab started speaking.
- Do you remember when I told you I would not be able to kill someone? – Mahtab sighed.
- I do. – Erik nodded slowly.
- And I did not know I could.
- I know how that can be. – Erik closed his eyes. – It sometimes just happens.
- I did not think twice. And that's what scares me.
- You are fine.
- Are you disappointed in me? – She inquired anxiously.
- I expected such a thing to happen once. People like you and me can't always avoid it. Sometimes you just have to defend yourself… and you defended someone else.
- I even paid attention to remove the string from his neck. It means I am cold headed murderer. – She closed her mismatched eyes and turned her head away in shame.
- It is needed for survival. If you leave a trace they find you.
- What did Tonton say?
- He can't really think of a solution.
- Will he give me to the police? – She asked sadly.
- He won't. For more reasons, but the most important one is that he loves you and knows that… they would do bad things to you in your situation. But you will have to tell him you are sorry, even if you aren't.
- I am.
- That is better. He will eventually get through it and forgive. But he will never forget. I know it from experience. But I need to know some details if you remember, they are important.
- What do you wish to know?
- At first, what did you do to the body? Where will they find it?
- In the Thames. I just pushed it into the water.
- Not the best thing, you should have hung him on a nearby tree to make it look like suicide. Like this they will search for a murderer, knowing he was strangled then put into water.
- I was in hurry. – She admitted. – And inexperienced.
- I know. Were there any people around when you did it?
- None that I know of.
- Good. Did you do it with uncovered or covered hands?
- I wore gloves, it is cold tonight.
- Thank Heavens.
- And I removed the string.
- I know. Like this, chances are low they will know it was you. They will most likely close the case as an unsolved murder and move on. A filthy drunkard is gone. They don't really like them anyway, yet they don't like to admit.
- They are just rats. As if they had no nose.
- Kind of. – Erik sighed, knowing Mahtab knows everything right. He placed a hand on her shoulder then patted it.
- And what about Mama? Is she angry with me? Did she stop loving me?
- A mother never stops loving her child no matter what. If she loved you from your birth, she can't just forget it all and stop it. Maybe she was shocked because of what you did, it caught her unexpectedly. But she will forgive you and I don't blame you for it either. We are not going to tell it to anyone else, not even your siblings. It remains between you, Mama, Tonton and me. It is enough if we know. We are going to say you just found the boy injured on the street and we nurse him back to health.
- Can I adopt him, Papa?
- Legally you can't. You are still a child yourself and you are a single girl without a husband to the law. You have no chance to receive custody. I only promise we nurse him back to health and see what can we do to make him feel better and to help him. Nothing more. I might, mind you I say MIGHT adopt him if he is worthy of it, but please don't be sure of it. We don't even know who he is.
- I understand. I thank you still for you allowing him to have a chance.
- Everyone deserves a chance for normal life. – Erik sighed. – It is just up to them if they can live with it or not.
With another deep sigh he sent Mahtab to bed and he walked to the master bedroom to check on his wife. Christine was sleeping peacefully still, despite of the awful news she received. Laudanum is really a magical liquid, Erik had to admit often. It had helped him through various tragedies in his life and was always thankful for its blessed effect on a tortured body and mind in need of rest. He slowly lay down next to her, taking her delicate white little hand in his thin skeletal one and searching for support in her subconscious touch. He knew well it will be a hard thing for her to accept what Mahtab had committed, but he hoped it won't ruin a mother's unconditional love.
The next day when everyone was awake and Erik explained the presence of the young boy in the house and asked everyone not to bother him, and the children seemed to thankfully understand it, Christine finally got emotionally strong enough to have a look at the poor boy. The child had an honest small face, yet it was so pale her heart ached looking at it. When Erik softly told her what the little boy went through when Mahtab saw them, she suddenly could at least understand the reason behind Mahtab's horrible act. She did not appreciate, of cours, but at least understood it. She did not say a single word to scold the teen. She knew Mahtab was punished enough by the mere thought and burden of killing a person. It was something she had to carry with her in her all her life even if she will live for hundred years. Christine sat down on the edge of the bed where the boy was sleeping, and when he woke up and looked at Christine with a look full of sense she smiled at him.
The boy did not know what had happened to him. He was just starting to feel better, but the sight of Christine warmed his soul. He remembered a few blurry images of his mother when he was yet a young boy, and the woman looking at him at that moment looked so much like Mother in his memories… the same blonde hair, blue eyes and kind features. He was sure it was Heaven where he was, as Mother moved to Heaven when he was 3 years old. Yet he still could remember her and he could have sworn he saw Mother, and if it was the case, it was sure because of he died as well and now they rejoined in Heaven, as he heard in liturgical texts earlier. With some pain he sat up in bed where he was placed, he took Christine's hand and cried. The kind woman was unable to do anything else than to hug this poor boy close to herself, careful not to hurt his broken ribs anymore, and soothingly she started to sing for him. She sang a French lullaby unintentionally, one she used to sing for her own children when she wanted to calm them and put them to sleep. Her angelic voice rang in the boy's ears as a confession of love, yet he understood nothing of the lyrics. He never heard that language before, so he assumed it was the language Angels and God uses to communicate. He was thankful for that blessed company and he felt he could remain in her arms forever.
