A/N: Angel of Mystery, you rock! Help me spread the word about my series and I'll keep the stories coming! This chapter is dedicated to you, babe.
And everyone else, please Read and Review. Especially tell me how you like the romance btw Erik and Antoinette.
Peace, love and lipgloss,
Mlle. Fox
"Maurice, are you sure it's murder?" asked Madame Jacquard wringing her hands. He looked at her,
"You saw his wounds, it had to be!"
"Now Mousier, calm down!" Andre told him.
"Forgive me Mousier, but I can't; my father is dead! Money is no object! Please sirs, take my case! My mother is in there ready to be buried with him!" Maurice said his voice rising. Madame Jacquard picked up her skirts and said,
"If that is the case I shall just go check on her!" When she entered the bedroom, they heard wails of a broken woman from inside.
"Did you hear that Mousier? That was my mother! Find who caused my Father's second untimely death and I will pay you all most handsomely." Maurice told them passionately.
"Mousier..." started Firmin.
"We'll take the case." Erik said. Firmin gaped his mouth open at him,
"We will what?"
"After all Mousier it is the least we can do to make up for not believing Madame Richard the first time!" said Erik telling them with his eyes they were going to do this. Andre sighed,
"Right then! Mousier, did your father say anything else after we left?" Maurice thought and said,
"He and mother just spoke of the cottage in Province they never got to retire in. It's been shut up for years."
"Well that's a real start!" said Antoinette sarcastically as she folded her arms.
"Mousiers, I suggest we take our leave and get some sleep at home. Maurice, come to our office in the morning. Around ten or so?" said Erik.
"Ten's fine. I need to be in town anyway...preparing the funeral...again! You know it's funny Erik...the way you talk and give command it's like you are the detective and they are your assistants! Well, I'll see you all in the morning." said Maurice prepared to return into the room. Antoinette touched his arm,
"Our condolences Mousier." He nodded sadly with a weak smile and opened the door, his mother's crying still audible.
Later, the ride home was anything but peaceful for the Andre and Firmin Detective Agency. As Erik laid his head back, his boots propped up in the seat across from him, Andre huffed,
"Assistants indeed! Erik, not to drudge up old memories, but I can't help feeling you've forgotten we are no longer in the Opera Populaire!" Erik sighed with exhaustion,
"Old habits are hard to break, I suppose!" Her mind wide-awake with questions, Antoinette asked,
"Who would want M. Richard dead?"
"Whoever caused him to go into hiding the first time I suppose." said Firmin.
"I don't think he deliberately went into hiding." said Erik shutting his eyes. "The doctor said his wrists were rubbed raw as if they had been bound. What if Roland Richard was captured by someone and tortured?"
"What makes you think that? Besides the wrist thing I mean?" asked Andre.
"His back was also covered in welts. The Doctor thinks he had been beaten and frankly I know he was." said Erik.
"How do you know?" asked Antoinette. Erik opened his eyes, but they remained unseeing as he answered,
"When one is daily tortured for a while, one takes on a look of total caution in their eyes. Anyone who touches them instantly causes the back to straighten as if preparing for an attack. Roland reacted this way when Madame Richard was holding his hand." The carriage grew silent again, but Antoinette was thinking back to that night five weeks previous, when Erik was shot and she had seen his face. She had gone into his room to return his fallen mask and when she came near him, his back had stiffened and his eyes were cautious. After she had briefly kissed him that night, his reaction to her touch was starting to lessen to one purely enjoying the experience. But he still had a hint of that cautious look in his green orbs and when he was in one of his moods, his back would stiffen up. Antoinette prayed for guidance, promising she would do whatever she could to make that reaction nonexistent in this man she had grown to care for deeply.
That night, Erik stood by his window, overlooking the city, it's rooftops barely visible in the midnight blue hue all around. He opened the window and saw a two-foot ledge under the still. He climbed up on it and walked about on the concrete outside. He felt a wave of comfort filling him. He felt like he was back in the theater catwalks again. High above the ground, protected in the shadows. This was where he was the Phantom; that dark, powerful god-like figure who ruled over his own little kingdom daring anyone to try and take it away. He wished he could get some of that power back. He started to wonder how difficult it would be to climb over the rooftops, when he heard a rusty creak of a hinge. He took a step into the shadows even further and watched as he saw Antoinette open her window, sitting on the window seat but not daring to get close to the concrete edge he stood on. He heard her speaking,
"Bon Soir Papa! Well, I guess its Bon Jour now! Listen, I need to speak with you. You remember Erik? The man I told you about? Well, I'm worried about him." Erik furrowed his brow as she continued.
"I know his past, and I've accepted it knowing he's changed. But why can't he move on? He holds up all this pain inside that I wish he would talk to me about. But then I've only known him a little over a month...But you've always told me it only takes a moment to know when you've found the one. I knew it the moment he told me he didn't know how to shave himself. Help me Papa! Help us find a way! Love you always. Goodnight!" As she shut the window, unknowing of Erik's presence, he thought to himself,
'The one? What did she mean when she said, 'The one'? The one what? And what does it have to do with my not knowing how to shave? Women! I can't wait until I understand them!' And with that, he turned back into his room and settled down for a few hours sleep.
The next morning, Andre tipped his hat in greeting a few accountant secretaries from down the hall, as Firmin fumbled with his keys to unlock the door.
"I can't wait to get started on this next case, gentlemen. You know I love a good mystery!" said Antoinette smoothing the wrinkles out of her royal purple polonaise. But Firmin's face took on a look of concern, when he noticed the door was open a crack. He silently brought it to the attention to the others. As Erik pulled Antoinette behind him, Firmin gently pushed the door open. They crept inside the office, noting nothing seemed amiss, but Andre raised his cane higher anyway. They heard footsteps from the inner office and Erik nodded to Firmin who counted off his fingers quietly,
"One...two...three!" On three, Erik kicked open the door and they all rushed inside. Maurice Richard jumped from the chair he just sat down in and yelled,
"What the devil?" Firmin sighed in frustration as Andre demanded,
"Mousier! What is the meaning of this? We had an appointment!" Nervously, Maurice stuttered out,
"I'm sorry Mousiers! But I had to come early! I was being followed!"
"Followed?" asked Erik. Maurice guided them to the window saying,
"Yes. When I left the house this morning, I noticed a carriage kept behind mine. When I got out, a short, thin fellow in a cap and dark suit began to follow me. At first I though it was my imagination, but everywhere I went he was two steps behind me. Now he's down on the street...there! Leaning against that lamppost!" Erik followed his pointed finger and saw indeed a short, thin fellow in cap and dark suit leaning against the wrought iron post, his hands in his pockets, his eye watching the building as if it would grow legs and walk away.
"Now THAT'S a proper start to a mystery!" said Antoinette with a little smile dancing on her lips. Erik turned from the window and stroked his chin with his thumb,
"Hmm...He doesn't appear wealthy enough to have his own carriage..."
"And I'll bet anything he works for the killer or might even be the killer himself!" exclaimed Firmin.
"Don't jump to conclusions, Firmin...after all we still need to find out where the late M. Richard was before he appeared in Madame Jacquards gardens!" pointed out Andre.
"Oh yes of course!" said Firmin.
"So we should do a through check on every building from Madame Jacquards house! Lord, what an endeavor!" cried Antoinette.
"And we need to find out where he lived for the last four years." said Firmin.
"And how he earned money for food..." said Andre.
"And most important of all, how he and that secret treasury committee got the funds for the Commune. For I believe that and all who were involved are the keys to solving this case!" said Erik staring at the floor in thought as he leaned on one of the desks.
"Well, that should be a piece of cake!" said Antoinette sarcastically. "If Roland Richard kept his affiliation with the Commune a secret he must have had a reason and so did the others on that committee!" Andre scratched his neck and said to Firmin,
"Firmin? Don't you have a cousin or something who works for the government?"
"Yes! My third cousin Jacque! He works as an assistant to one of the representatives. Mlle. Carone! Set up a meeting with him! I believe his card is in my Rolla deck!" said Firmin.
"Under 'F', I presume?" she asked starting to go through the Rolla deck as he nodded yes to her.
"If anyone can tell us something about the Commune, it should be the government who ended it!" said Andre as if it were obvious.
"I have a question, if my father and his 'comrades' got the money, where did it go? Obviously not to build an army!" said Maurice folding his arms. Erik smiled at him,
"And then in lies the mystery!" Antoinette furrowed her eyebrows in thought,
"You don't suppose any of his colleges in the committee took it?"
"No, I don't. What I do think is that Maurice's father took it." said Erik.
"What?" asked Maurice.
"It would explain why someone should want to kill him. Someone on that committee probably wanted the money for themselves." said Erik.
"But another reason could be Roland was going to make a deal with the government and turn in his friends. Fear of getting caught for treason makes men do wicked deeds!" said Firmin.
"Well, it sounds as if you are off to a good start." said Maurice.
"Actually we'd be off to a better one if you could answer a few questions." said Erik.
"Go ahead, Friend! I'm all ears!"
"What all can you tell us before your father's 'first' death?" asked Erik.
"Mam'selle!" started Andre. She sat with her notepad, smiling,
"I know Mousier, start my shorthand!" Maurice sat down and sighed,
"It was the winter of seventy-one. We were all set to get ready for Christmas. Father had gone into town to go gift shopping for his friends. I remember he was particularly generous that year. He was buying very extravagant gifts. Well anyway, that morning was the last we saw him. A police sergeant, a friend of father's came by that evening and told us he had died. The coroner told us it was natural causes. You know, at the time, Mother and I had to come down and identify the body. What was strange was the body we thought had been Father, well, something was off about it. But I only figured it was because I was in grief. Even the priest who gave him his last rites told me I was just distressed. Wait! He was the one who thought it best to have a closed casket! I remember! I went along with it, because seeing Father dead once had caused her to be ill. We buried him, and I took over his practice in the next few weeks. Then we heard nothing more of it, until last fall, when Mother was shopping near Notre Dame. She told me the bells began to ring and she had turned to look at them when she saw a man staring at her from the other side of the street. She swore it was Father! I told her it was a mistake but she insisted. A few months later she heard of your agency and started calling on you. I believe you know the rest."
"Yes, we do. But M. Richard, think carefully. Has nothing else out of the ordinary occurred since your father's fake death?" asked Firmin.
"Not a thing. Any idea what is going on?" asked Maurice. Andre began to show him out,
"Nothing right now, but we shall keep you posted."
"Very well, I must go meet the undertaker now. Erik? You understand my poker game has been postponed?" said Maurice.
"Of course. Just tell me when you're ready to have it!" said Erik.
"Certainly. Well, Good day Mousiers and thank you!" said Maurice putting on his hat. He nodded to Antoinette on the way out,
"Mam'selle!"
"Mousier!" When the door shut behind him, Antoinette asked Firmin and Andre,
"Well what do you think?"
"I haven't the foggiest." said Firmin.
"What do you think, Erik?...Erik?" said Andre looking around the room seeing the tall man had vanished.
"He's at it again!" said Firmin.
"At what again?" asked Antoinette.
"All that Phantom business!" snapped Andre noticing the open window.
Meanwhile, Erik was running across the rooftops, unseen by the crowds below, Maurice Richard or the shady character following him. He watched as Maurice went into a funeral parlor. He sat on the edge of the building by the gargoyles watching the figure leaf through the newspaper. When Maurice came out an hour later, he hailed a hansom and went off, but the figure stayed behind. He then threw his paper to the ground and walked down the street to the East End of Paris. Erik kept up with him, slipping only once on a broken roof tile, but he regained his balance and soon found the man on the outskirts of the slaughterhouses. The short man went inside a rich black carriage. Erik saw the driver was going off to an alleyway for a moment and a dark smirk came on his lips. A few seconds later, dressed in the now unconscious driver's cape and cap, Erik went towards the carriage where he heard a distinguish but foreign accent tell him from inside,
"Drive on Pierre!" Erik coughed out disguising his voice,
"Oui Mousier!" He climbed up on the driver's seat and took the reins beginning to lead the team away down the street. He heard from inside,
"Well?" A slick, snake like voice said,
"Sorry Colonel. But the boy was just preparing for his old man's funeral."
"Blast! If I had killed the old fool four years ago this would be over and done with now!" snapped the Colonel.
"I did find one interesting thing sir..."
"Oh?"
"The young M. Richard stopped by the offices of two well-known private detectives named Firmin and Andre."
"He did? Hmm...perhaps our young friend wishes to find his father's secret as well!" contemplated the Colonel.
"Or the chap who killed his old man." said the snake voice.
"I only hired you this Morning sir. How do you know the killer...is not me?" laughed the Colonel darkly.
"Say, aren't we suppose to be going back to St. Paul Street?" asked the other man.
"Yes, Pierre! Stop the carriage!" The carriage did pull to a stop, but when a tall, handsome man with graying brown locks and neat military beard poked his head out the window, he saw the driver gone. As his eyes gave the surrounding area a shrewd look over, revealing a darkness in his soul, he said to the short man,
"Get out and drive the coach. Now!" The short man stumbled out and took up the reins, and high above them on the rooftop of a great stone bank, Erik watched them drive away, the purloined cape billowing in the wind.