Chapter 5
Several Notes of Concern
I waited for only a few minutes before Firmin entered the lobby holding a newspaper. " 'Mystery after gala night,' it says. 'Mystery of soprano's flight!' 'Mystified,' baffled Surerte say. 'We are mystified. We suspect foul play!'" He lowered the newspaper. "Bad news on soprano's scene," he said. "First Carlotta, now Christine! Still, at least the seats get sold. Gossip's worth its weight in gold." He walked up the stairs toward his office. "What a way to run a business! Spare me these unending trails! Half the cast disappears, but the crowd still cheers, 'Opera.' To hl with Gluck and Handel! Have a scandal and you'll pack them in the aisles!"
André stormed out of his office in a temper. What's the matter? I thought. The show was a success, after all. Why are you so angry? I laughed to myself. "Damnable!" André shouted. "Will they all walk out? This is damnable!"
"André, please don't shout!" Firmin said, trying to quiet him. "It's publicity, and the take is vast! Free publicity!"
"But we have no cast!" André argued. I waited to see how Firmin would react to that. Firmin was still calm, which didn't surprise me. Even though he had only been a manager for two days, I could already tell that he was a hardheaded idiot.
"But, André, have you seen the queue?" He spotted the letter that André was holding. "Oh, it seems you've got one, too." André opened my letter and read it aloud.
" 'Dear André, what a charming gala! Christine enjoyed a great success! We were hardly bereft when Carlotta left. Otherwise, the chorus was entrancing, but the dancing was a lamentable mess!'" I grinned at the look of anger on André's face. Firmin opened his letter.
" 'Dear Firmin, just a brief reminder: my salary has not been paid. Send it care of the ghost by return of post. P.T.O.: No one likes a debtor, so it's better if my orders are obeyed!" Firmin was outraged. "Who would have the gall to send this?" he asked. Myself, obviously, I thought.
"Someone with a puerile brain!" André answered. I raised my eyebrows at that.
"These are both signed 'O.G.,'" Firmin observed.
"Who the hl is he?"
"Opera Ghost!" they said at the same time.
"It's really not amusing," Firmin said, angered.
"He's abusing our position!"
"In addition, he wants money!"
"He's a funny sort of specter to expect a large retainer!"
"Nothing plainer, he is clearly quite insane!" The Vicomte burst through the doors in to the lobby.
"Where is she?" he asked the managers.
"You mean Carlotta?" André asked. The Vicomte shook his head and began climbing the stairs toward them.
"I mean Miss Daaé. Where is she?" he asked again.
"How should we know?" Firmin asked.
"I want an answer!" the Vicomte said. He pulled out the letter that I had sent him. "I take it that you sent me this note?" Firmin and André looked confused.
"What's all this nonsense?" Firmin asked.
"Of course not!" André said in response to the Vicomte's question. "Don't look at us!"
"She's not with you, then?"
"Of course not!" Firmin cried.
"We're in the dark," André added.
"Monsieur, don't argue. Isn't this the letter you wrote?" Firmin approached the Vicomte.
"What is it that we're meant to have wrote?" Firmin asked. "Written," he corrected. He took the letter that the Vicomte was holding and read it.
" 'Do not fear for Miss Daaé. The Angel of Music has her under his wing. Make no attempt to see her again.'" Firmin and André looked mystified.
"If you didn't write it, then who did?" Carlotta and Piangi entered the lobby, and Carlotta looked like she could explode.
"Where is he?" she asked.
"Ah, welcome back!" André cried, pleased to see her back.
"Your precious patron—where is he?" she repeated.
"What is it now?" the Vicomte asked.
"I have your letter—a letter which I rather resent!" she told him, outraged. He looked confused.
"Did you send it?" Firmin asked. He shook his head.
"You didn't send it?"
"No, I didn't."
"What's going on?" Firmin asked, but he was ignored.
"You dare to tell me that this is not the letter you sent?" The Vicomte seized the letter.
"What is it that I'm meant to have sent?" He read it. " 'Your days at the Opéra Populaire are numbered. Christine Daaé will be singing on your behalf tonight. Be prepared for a great misfortune should you attempt to take her place.'" Firmin grabbed the letter from the Vicomte and compared it to the others.
"Far to many notes for my taste," he commented. "Most of them are about Christine. All we've heard since we came is Miss Daaé's name." Madam Giry entered the lobby with her daughter.
"Miss Daaé has returned," she told them.
"I trust her midnight oil is well and truly burned," Firmin said dryly.
"Where is she now?" André asked.
"She is at home," Madam Giry answered.
"She needed rest," Meg added. The Vicomte went down the stairs to Madam Giry.
"May I see her?"
"No, Monsieur, she will see no one."
"Will she sing?" Carlotta asked. "Will she sing?" Madam Giry pulled out the letter I gave her.
"Here, I have a note," she said.
"Let me see it!" Firmin, André, Carlotta, and the Vicomte cried, rushing over to Madam Giry. The Vicomte got the note first, but Firmin snatched it from him and opened it.
" 'Gentlemen, I have now sent you several notes of the most amiable nature detailing how my theatre is to be run,'" he read. " 'You have not followed my instructions. I shall give you one last chance. Christine Daaé has returned to you, and I am anxious her career should progress. In the new production of 'Il Muto,' you will therefore cast Carlotta as the Pageboy, and put Miss Daaé in the role of Countess. The role which Miss Daaé plays calls for charm and appeal. The role of the Pageboy is silent, which makes my casting in a word, ideal. I shall watch the performance from my normal seat in Box Five, which will be kept empty for me. Should these commands be ignored, a disaster beyond your imagination will occur. I remain, gentlemen, you obedient servant, O.G.'"
"Christine!" Carlotta cried. "This is all a ploy to help Christine!"
"This is insane," Firmin said, looking over the letter.
"I know who sent this!" Carlotta proclaimed. She pointed an accusatory finger at the Vicomte. "The Vicomte—her lover!"
"Indeed?" the Vicomte responded sarcastically. "Can you believe this?" he asked the managers, who shook their heads.
"Signora, this is a joke!" André told Carlotta, who was rambling on in French. "This changes nothing!" She ignored him and began storming toward the door.
"Signora, you are our star!" Firmin cried, following her. "You always will be! We don't take orders!" She pretended not to hear him.
"Miss Daaé will be playing the Pageboy!" André announced, causing Carlotta to stop in her tracts. I glared at him. The fool had no idea what he was doing. "The silent role! Carlotta will be playing the lead!" Carlotta spun around.
"It's useless trying to appease me!" she cried. "You're only saying this to please me!" She continued on her way to the door. André and Firmin ran after her.
"Please, Signora," André begged. "We need you! Your public needs you!" Carlotta stopped walking and laughed.
"Would you not rather have your precious little angel?" she asked reproachfully. That would be my angel, not theirs, I thought.
"Signora, no," Firmin answered. "The world wants you." I very much doubted that, and so, apparently, did Carlotta.
"Really?" she asked. "What about all of those notes about Christine?"
"They mean nothing, Signora," André assured her. "You are our prima donna. You will be the first lady on the stage. Your devotees are on their knees to implore you!" Carlotta seemed tempted by his words.
"Can you bow out when they're shouting your name?" Firmin asked. "Think of how they all adore you!" I was disgusted by those words. I had it in my mind to leave right then, but I wanted to see if Carlotta would accept their bait.
"Prima donna, your song shall live again!" Carlotta said in triumph. I had my answer. I didn't need to stay. I went back into the tunnel I used to get there and began making my way to my lair.
"So, it is to be war between us," I said. "If these demands are ignored, a disaster beyond your imagination will occur."