One of my wonderful reviewers figured out this little whodunit...well done!
We're VERY close to the end...but this is not it.
Okay...here we go...all together now...WHO SHOT RAOUL?
"Erik!" Christine screamed, instantly running to his side. She avoided looking over at Raoul, whose crimson blood would surely stain the stage of the Opera Populaire for as long as it stood.
Christine quickly untied the thick rope Raoul had tied tightly around Erik's wrists. As soon as his hands were free, he wrapped his arms around Christine, burying his face in the crook of her neck.
They remained, sitting in the center of the stage, a real life ending to a tragic love story.
Footsteps.
Christine tightened her grip on Erik as they both stood, Erik's hand on his middle, trying to staunch the blood that still flowed from his fresh wound.
Standing there, their faces white with shock were Madame Giry and one of the police officers that had interrogated Raoul.
In the officer's hand was a smoking gun.
"I thought…I thought he was …" the officer stammered. "I thought he was the Phantom of the Opera," he finished, feeling awkward using the fabled title.
Madame Giry walked slowly next to Raoul, crossing herself slowly. She looked to where Christine and Erik stood, their eyes full of fright.
Christine tightened her arms around the true phantom…her Erik.
She would not let them take him.
She would die without him.
"Who are you, Sir?" The officer asked Erik, moving closer to the wounded man.
Christine looked nervously from Madame Giry to the masked man in her arms.
This was it. The last time they would be able to embrace each other. All of Paris could recount the horrors that saw the Opera Populaire three years ago. There were those, such as the family of Joseph Buquet, who demanded justice, who would stop at nothing until the now legendary Phantom of the Opera was apprehended…
and made to pay for his crimes.
She held Madame Giry's gaze, pleading for salvation.
Madame Giry had never been a liar. She was careful of what she spoke and whom she spoke it too, but she was honest.
She had never had a reason to lie.
Until now.
She moved over to Erik and Christine.
Erik looked down at her; this was the first time he had been this close to her since she first led him down to the safety that was to become his lair beneath the Opera Populaire.
Madame Giry placed a thin hand gently on the side of Erik's face that was visible.
His eyes closed. It was a simple touch, but it was genuine…
motherly.
Tears came to Christine's eyes as she realized how Madame Giry's simple touch affected Erik.
"This man's name is Erik," Madame Giry announced, her voice even. "He is the genius who placed Don Juan Triumphant to paper," she turned to look at the officer. "And the unfortunate target of Raoul De Changy's madness."
The officer nodded, but continued to look at the mask covering Erik's deformity.
Madame Giry scoffed. "Monsieur, if you are looking for the Phantom of the Opera, his is easily found," she said.
Both Christine and Erik froze.
Madame Giry held their gaze, smiling.
"Where, Madame?" The officer pressed.
"The same place he has been for the past three years, Monsieur," she replied, keeping her eyes locked with Christine's. "He lies in a grave, not too far from here," she finished, turning to the officer once more.
"I've heard that rumor as well, Madame," the officer said, still looking at Erik and the woman whose arms held him up. "But we have reports that the Phantom has been seen recently, and I dare say…Erik does fit the description."
"There are rumors that are true," Madame Giry said firmly.
"Unless you have proof of the Phantom's death, there is little I can do except bring in this man for questioning," the officer said, almost apologetically.
"Proof, Monsieur?" Madame Giry smiled wider, pulling a piece of paper from the folds of her skirt. She held it out to the officer, who took it gingerly.
Christine looked at Erik, whose face was becoming dangerously pale.
They were running out of time.
The officer read the paper and the looked at Madame Giry with a shocked expression of his face. "Madame, this is a death certificate," he said. Madame Giry nodded.
"I always pitied the man who has become know as the Phantom," she spoke with a hint of sadness. "When he died, there was no one to bury him, no one to send him off to judgment properly. I took it upon myself to make the arrangements, for he deserved better than an eternity in an unmarked grave."
She looked up to box five.
"With the fortune he had…amassed…while living within these walls, I memorialized him, hoping the stone and marble that marked the death of the Phantom of the Opera would serve as a reminder to all of Paris that we, as humans, all have the capability to choose to decide whether to live in the darkness, or to step into the light," she said, causing tears to fall from Christine's eyes.
Madame Giry walked to where Raoul lay. "Unfortunately, Monsieur, the Viscount failed to acknowledge the message."
Suddenly, Erik fell to the ground, the blood loss overwhelming him.
"Erik!" Christine screamed, falling with him. "Get a doctor!" She commanded the officer who obliged instantly.
Madame Giry knelt down beside Christine, who was holding Erik's wound tightly, whispering phrases of love into him ear, telling him not to give up…
not after they had come this far.
Madame Giry placed a hand on Christine's shoulder. The young woman looked up at her.
"If he dies…" her voice broke on the last word.
Madame Giry shook her head, praying that help would come quickly.