6.
Gus stumbled out of his last class, still sleepy from the lack of sleep the previous night. The evening stakeout had been a complete bust, and in retrospect he realized it had been a fool's errand from the beginning. If the legendary Banshee actually arrived with that kind of regularity it wouldn't be laughed at as a fairy tail by most people.
The day hadn't been much better. Gus had thought that Professor Firmin had previously had a completely irrational agitation towards him. He was not happy to have given the man a reasonable justification for further attention by briefly falling asleep in his class. Gus sighed ruefully at the memory of Professor Firmin relishing the opportunity to make an example of the indolent Monsieur de Chagny. He seemed to take personal affront to Gus's fatigue and berated him about it, asking him why he was unable to maintain consciousness.
Not wanting to admit he'd spent the night waiting for a phantom by the river, Gus mumbled an excuse about being unable to sleep. "I was restless for some strange reason and couldn't get to sleep. You know how it is, sometimes these things just happen."
Apparently this was the wrong answer, as Mr. Firmin became livid with rage and informed him matter of factly that he expected his students to pay attention and "these things" should not happen again. Gus spent the final 10 minutes of the lesson alternating between being subject of withering glares and interrogations about his "flights of fancy". Even more than normal, he was quite relieved when class ended and he was able to escape. As usual, his successive classes did not subject him to such tortures, but without the added scrutiny he again found himself subject to feelings of drowsiness.
Gus knew that he really should go to his bed and catch up on rest, or at least get a bite to eat. But he forced himself to walk unsteadily to the library in order to try to resume his investigation into his family's past.
Gus felt a small surge of excitement as he returned to the periodicals section. Once again he requested a small stack of newspapers and took them to a nearby table to continue his search. He was sleepily thumbing through a copy of Le Petit Journal, when he was jolted wide awake by the passage he had just read.
Palais Garnier is closed indefinitely due investigations of possible arson and the murder of Ubaldo Piangi. Gilles Andre, one of the Opera Populaire managers, has been hospitalized. Prima donna Carlotta Giudicelli alleges that performers were subjected to dangerous working conditions by opera management. Asked for comment, Richard Firmin, Opera Populaire manager, had no comment regarding Giudicelli's allegations as well as the recent string of notorious incidents at the Palais Garnier.
Gus read the passage several times to confirm that he hadn't fallen asleep at the table and dreamt it. He was absolutely dumbfounded. Firmin had been the MANAGER of the Palais Garnier? The irritable man did not seem the type for show business, he didn't seem to like people in the least. And if his lessons were indication, he hadn't a clue about how to engage or entertain people. Gus felt like he hadn't even seen any indication that the man knew how to relate to any people.
After he got over his shock, Gus set himself to his task with renewed vigor and immersed himself in his reading. By piecing together stories from various papers he was able to put together several events from when his instructor and parents were both at the Palais Garnier.
Apparently Monsieur Firmin, together with a man named Gilles Andre had taken over management of the opera house nearly twenty years ago. Shortly thereafter, his mother had made a splash when Madame Carlotta suddenly went ill one evening. From what his parents had told him, that was how they were reunited (they had known each other long before as children). A few weeks later, the main chandelier of the opera house had fallen into the orchestra section, prompting a shutdown.
With help from the patronage of Gus's father, Firmin and Andre were able to restore the main theater and reopen to the public a short time later. They announced the premier of a new opera by some unknown composer, but on opening night Monsieur Piangi was murdered and new damage was inflicted on the Palais Garnier. Around this time, Gus's parents married and decided to leave Paris to come to London. With the loss of their patron, the opera house in disrepair and Monsieur Andre in the hospital, MM. Firmin and Andre were forced to relinquish management of the Palais Garnier. A reward was posted by the Paris authorities for information about the culprit behind the incidents at the opera house, but Gus couldn't find any stories about the reward being claimed.
Years later, the Palais Garnier was again restored, but there was no mention of MM. Firmin or Andre. It had been more than a decade since the opera house had reopened under new management, but Gus saw nothing about any strange occurrences at the Palais Garnier during that time. The last several seasons had been reported to be highly successful and critically acclaimed.
The timing of all the problems made Gus wonder if M. Firmin had been sabotaged by someone with a grudge against him. He could easily understand if someone had taken offense at how the man seemed to lash out at others for no reason whatsoever. It hadn't been his parents, Gus was certain of that. If his father had been trying to ruin the man, why would he have bothered to commit to the restoration of the opera house the first time. And his mother had only just begun to make a name for herself when events had shut the theater down. She even had the lead role in "Don Juan Triumphant", which had had its premier ruined by the murder of M. Piangi. It made perfect sense to Gus that they'd both want a fresh start elsewhere after all of that. It was unfortunate that it had caused M. Firmin some misfortune, but that was hardly their fault.
Gus was beginning to consider that Monsieur Firmin might possibly be deranged, when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned to find Professor Murphy looking down at him with a slight look of concern on his face.
"Shouldn't you get some sleep lad? It's getting a bit later and I hear you were nodding off in a few classes, including mine." The last bit was added with a good-natured wink.
"Sorry professor. I was up late last night. I wanted to check a few things before dinner and I just lost track of time."
Gus hadn't seen anything relevant to his search in at least half an hour anyway, so he began folding up the papers on the table to return them to the librarian.
"Diligence is certainly a virtue, but make sure you also mind your own well being. As your instructor I probably shouldn't say this, but you shouldn't spend all your time hunched over books. Especially if you're losing sleep over it. There are many things and ways to learn in this world Mr. de Chagny."
"Yes sir." Gus paused before asking, "forgive me for asking Professor Murphy, but would you happen to know anything about Professor Firmin's background?"
"Richard? Why do you ask?"
"I was just looking at some old papers and read that he had been working at the same place as my parents a long time ago. Do you know anything about that? They don't talk much about those days."
"Is that so? No, I'm afraid I don't know anything about that. I know he came here from Paris several years ago, to teach French, but I'm afraid I know nothing of his time before that."
"I understand, thank you anyway professor," Gus said while rising to take the papers back. Gareth Murphy gave him a pat on the shoulder and reminded him once again to get some rest before walking away.
Gus returned the papers he had been borrowing and exited the library into the cool evening air. While he agreed with the advice his instructor had given him, he was also wide awake from the excitement of his discoveries of the last few hours. He wandered aimlessly through the streets of town trying to envision the missing pieces of what happened between the time Mr. Firmin took over at the Palais Garnier and when he arrived at Oxford. He had obviously suffered many financial losses, but why would that prompt him to leave Paris? Did he have a falling out with his former business partner?
"What was his name again? Andre?" Gus whispered distractedly, when suddenly he fell to the ground after being struck from behind. Stunned by the blow, Gus's vision was shaky as he turned his head toward his assailant. The dim lighting coupled with his erratic perception made it difficult to make out details, but his adrenaline helped him focus through the pain to make out a cloaked figure with a small club in one hand and a rope in the other. The cloak did not fully obscure his face, but the mask he was wearing made him totally unidentifiable.
Gus scrambled away unsteadily as he tried to reorient himself. His attacker seemed to take on a sense of greater urgency as he lunged at Gus. Gus kicked out and caught the other man on the shin. The impact threw off his balance and he veered off to the side and barked out a curse as his shoulder hit the wall. A moment later, he dropped the rope and again turned toward Gus wielding on the club. Gus looked around for anything he might use to defend himself but found the area devoid of anything useful. He was still not entirely focused as he pulled himself back to his feet and tried to take a defensive stance.
Gus hadn't really been in many fights before, and he had no real experience handling an attacker with a weapon while he was unarmed. At the moment, the best his addled mind could conceive of was "maintain your distance". Luckily for Gus, the other man seemed slightly more hesitant about how to handle a conscious man from the front, rather than an ambush from behind. Gus tried to remember anything his father or others might have taught him about fighting as his opponent made a tentative swing with his club.
Gus flinched away from the blow and the other man seemed to be emboldened by the response. He moved more aggressively forward when Gus had a flash of insight.
"Help, help," he screamed loudly. "Help, POLICE!"
The attacker's eyes went wide and his head swiveled quickly scanning the streets. Gus cracked a predatory smile as he looked back at the attacker. He had no real reason to fight the man, so why was he trying? Better to cause a commotion and beat him with numbers. The other man realized this as well and turned and ran off into the night. He seemed to be limping slightly, and Gus wanted to give chase, but wasn't sure if he was steady enough to completely walk, let alone run in the dim light of the evening.
There wasn't a large commotion, but his cries had gotten some attention and a few people were approaching with questioning looks on their faces. Gus rubbed at his head as several people walked up asking what all the noise was about. He saw Robert, who he had met on his first night in town, walking up as he explained to the onlookers about the attack he'd been subjected to.
"I don't know how you keep finding trouble in a town like this," Robert said bemusedly, "but maybe you should start going to bed early from now on."
"I was told, just recently, that more rest would be good for my health."
"So, were you able to see his face this time?"
Gus shook his head. "No. He was wearing a mask."
"Well, I'm sure the inspector will want to talk to you anyway. Let's go."
Gus sighed as he rubbed gingerly at the knot on the back of his head. Even without the pain throbbing, he was certain that he would not enjoy the inquisition he expected. But Robert was right, he may as well get it over with now, and besides, at least he wouldn't be attacked at the police station.
For better or worse, the inspector was out when they arrived. Another officer took Gus's statement in his place and told them the police would investigate the matter and let him know if they had any further questions. Gus thanked everyone for their assistance as the weariness he'd forgotten about began to heavily descend upon him. He shakily rose to his feet, prompting Rubert to help him steady his feet.
"Alright lad, let's get you home."
"I'm ok, I can get there on my own."
"I've seen plenty of drunks that have said the same. You're probably right, but just in case you're not, how about a come along and make sure you don't end up face down in a pile of manure in the street."
Gus was sure he could make his way home without difficulty, but the newly provided visual of falling into fresh horse droppings in the street made him more agreeable to assistance. He nodded to Robert and followed the other man out of the police station. With a careful and deliberate pace, the pair made their way back to the building where Gus was staying. Many lights were on, since it wasn't yet terribly late, even though Gus felt like he could sleep for days. He was still tired, but the walk from the police station had helped clear his head. "Thanks again," he said, as Robert turned and walked back to town whistling softly to himself.
Gus walked steadily past the other building occupants to his room where he could finally rest. He kicked off his shoes, but didn't feel up to much more effort than that. No longer concerned about appearances, he stumbled over his bed before succumbing to the weariness that had been assaulting him much more relentlessly than the man he had encountered an hour ago. He dropped onto the bed and unceremoniously passed out.