A/N: As always, thanks to my beta, Le Chat Noir.
Episode 40: Suspicions
By: Elektra
Hardy St. and Jarrett
Detective Nadir Khan crouched a few feet away from the body before him. It was a young girl - a local college student, he surmised. Obviously murdered, but for what purpose?
Around her neck, he saw ligature marks - a sure sign of strangulation by something other than hands.
His heart sunk at the first thought that had come to him, but he silently scolded himself.
Erik may be the Guild's Executioner… but this girl was an innocent! He would not…Nadir shook his head, not wanting to finish the thought as he continued to study the crime scene.
The body had been positioned purposefully against a wall, sitting up, head lolling to the side, legs spread most unflatteringly.
He could make out trauma to the head – her face and hair had been hacked to bits. It would make visual identification hard. Nadir guessed from the lack of defensive wounds, it had been done post-mortem.
At least, he prayed it had.
And that is another thing, Nadir thought. Erik would never… never… be so vicious.
Reports had indicated the other three girls had merely been strangled. But now, now the crime had escalated. Nadir wondered if this had been personal.
"Well?" Police Commander Gus Leroux spoke as he came up behind his detective. "Should we put the Guild on alert?"
Nadir jumped to his feet. "Why are you so quick to assume it was… one of us?"
Leroux shook his head. "Why are you so quick to assume it was not?"
"Because he WOULDN'T!" Nadir snapped back.
"And you know this for a fact?" Leroux asked. "You have seen him in action! He was not made the Executioner without reason!"
"He WOULD NOT do this!" Nadir insisted.
"Confiscate his weapon," Leroux ordered.
Nadir's eyes went wide. "Surely you cannot mean-"
"Surely I CAN," The commander continued. "The lab found slivers of rope embedded in the first three girls. No doubt similar fibers will be upon this girl as well. If the Executioner is as innocent as you claim, then his rope will not match those segments."
Nadir shook his head, scowling at the Commander. "You want the Punjab lasso, you go ask Erik yourself!"
With disgust, Nadir left the scene of the crime.
He rearranged the mask upon his face - it would not do to unintentionally expose his worst feature - as he watched the men several feet away from him.
He reached into the pocket of his cloak and slid his fingers over his beloved rope.
He remembered when that girl had come around the corner, looking so very beautiful.
Oh, how he despised beautiful things.
She would never look lustfully at him with those green eyes of hers, never entwine him with those slender limbs, never allow him to lose himself within her.
This one was so much lovelier than the others. He could not bear it. He had to destroy her physical beauty, take from her what he was lacking.
Sliding his hand out of his pocket, he pulled up the collar of his coat and made his way home as if nothing were amiss.
He wondered if his father would be proud.
Erik's Room – Thirty minutes later
Christine knocked upon Erik's door, brow furrowing when she received no answer.
"Christine?"
Christine turned to see Erik heading towards her, having sneaked in from… well, she didn't see where he had sneaked in. Obviously not from the cellar stairs.
"I have never seen you put your hair up in a hat before," he said suspiciously as he studied her.
Christine quickly fixed the hat upon her head, tucking a wayward strand back beneath it.
She didn't want him to see…
"Thought it would be a nice new look," she smiled. "So... uh… were you off working?"
"I suppose you could call it that," he replied. "How may I help you?"
She ran to him and jumped into his arms. "I just wanted to tell you that Meg, Sorelli and Jammes are taking me to a bar for my birthday tonight. Do you want to come with?"
He shook his head. "I would rather not be near Jammes nor Sorelli. Let alone at a very crowded bar. I have a plan for us tomorrow, however. I do you hope like it."
"I'm sure I will," she smiled. "And as for tonight - just so you know – the girls want to get me all drunk. So… um… if I wander into your room practically tripping over my feet, you'll know why."
He nodded. "It is a good thing you do not celebrate your birthday every night then."
"Not a big fan of drinking. Especially after that… thing… spiked my cola last year. But at least they'll be three of them to keep an eye on me this time. And Meg knows not to let me go off with some weird guy." She smiled. "Unless it's you of course."
"Well, how reassuring," he said. "I hope you enjoy your girl's night out, angel."
Christine nodded, then met his eyes. "Can I get a birthday kiss before I go?"
Erik momentarily recalled Christine asking for a birthday kiss last year as well - after she had been duly intoxicated.
But now, here she was with her arms and legs wrapped around him, her blue eyes looking hopeful, and her mind completely clear.
How things had changed…
Parteau Bar - outside (later that night)
Erik had long ago mastered the art of lurking. He knew how not to be seen, and he knew when others were attempting not to be seen. Such as the lady in the parked car down the street, spying on the entrance to the bar before him.
The one he had seen at the Science Centre a week back.
He had already mentioned her presence last week to Antoinette, but no one had been able to find her afterwards.
And here, in public, there was very little he could do.
A night walk had led him there, the feeling something was amiss was too powerful to ignore. The fact that Christine was in the vicinity only increased his apprehension.
Offering the lady in the car one last glance, he stepped inside the bar.
The music was loud, pounding. Though he stood taller than most of the patrons – and the two bouncers who had attempted to prohibit the masked man entry before he handed them some extra cash – Erik still could not help but feel closed in.
Glancing over to the bar, he saw three girls cheering on a forth as she quickly downed a shot and grimaced, shaking her head indicating she didn't want any more.
He made his way through the crowd, through the smoke that wasn't entirely from cigarettes judging by the sickly sweet scent, and found his target.
Parteau Bar - Inside
Christine jumped when she felt two strong hands on her shoulders, then tipped her head back to look up into a white masked face.
"Hey!" she said, smiling as she was feeling rather tipsy. "You came after all!"
Before Erik could respond, Christine's hands reached up, grabbing his head and pulling him into an upside-down kiss.
She closed her eyes, her tongue savouring the new sensation, letting out a strange little sound that could only be described as a moan.
When she finally let him go, he looked down at her, golden eyes blinking in surprise. "That was... interesting..." he breathed.
"That was… kind of hot!" Jammes replied as she looked between Erik and Christine.
"Chrissy is a little – ok, a lot - drunk," Meg explained apologetically. Erik nodded, having assessed that for himself.
Sorelli suddenly turned on him. "Why are you here? Are you some kind of stalker-boyfriend? You weren't even invited!"
"On the contrary," Erik replied, trying very hard to keep the venom from his voice as he addressed her. "Christine DID invite me earlier. I told her I couldn't come, but have since changed my mind." He scowled coldly. "But really, Sorelli – is that any way to speak to your teacher?"
Sorelli snorted. "It was only ONE week!"
"That is what you think," Erik replied.
Sorelli simply stared at him, unsure whether he was speaking the truth - and rather frightened at the prospect if he was.
Meg snickered, bringing Erik's attention to her. He motioned for her to join him a few feet away. "What's wrong?" she asked as she stepped up to him.
"Nothing is wrong, Little Giry… but I do have a question." He began, looking somewhat unsure. "When did Christine start wearing hats? Tell me I have not missed something."
Meg seemed to stumble for an answer, then shook her head. "Oh… uh… she just… you know… wanted a new look." She quickly changed the subject. "You going to stick around? Chrissy's gonna need to be carried out of here."
Erik nodded. "I will stay by her side for the rest of the night," he offered.
Meg laughed. "No surprise there, stalker-boyfriend."
"She DID invite me, Little Giry," Erik insisted.
"Yeah. She told me. Was disappointed you didn't want to come," Meg replied. "You totally made her night by showing up." She looked over to Christine, "C'mon, she's practically jumping out of her seat for us to return."
The two headed back to the bar, and Erik made himself comfortable on the stool beside Christine.
"Are you staying?" she asked hopefully, her words slurred.
"Yes, I suppose I am."
"Great. Fine." Sorelli said. "You baby-sit. We're scoping." She grabbed Jammes' and Meg's arms and the three girls headed into the crowd to find a few men.
Parteau Bar – outside (1 hour later)
His hand straying to the rope in his pocket, the oddest sight greeted him as he watched a tall dark-clothed man walking out of the bar with an intoxicated girl clinging to him for support.
When the man turned slightly, it revealed thin white material that covered his entire face, save for his mouth.
A mask.
So this was he.
This was Erik! The ungrateful one.
And what of the girl beside him? Did he get her drunk with plans to take advantage of her? Surely a pretty thing like that would be with him no other way, if what he heard about the man's looks were true.
He was surprised when he saw the girl stop to step in front of Erik and slide her arms around his waist. Erik responded by brushing his fingers down her cheek. She closed her eyes seemingly content with the contact.
He wondered if the man has used something other than alcohol to make such a beautiful woman so affectionate towards him.
Erik's hand reached up, and gently slid the hat off Christine's head - causing bright brassy red curls to tumble down over her shoulders, darker in some places, lighter in others.
She cried out and stepped back, desperately trying to cover her head with her hands.
"Christine?" Erik spoke, gently grasping her wrists as he slid her hands from her head. "What did you do to your hair?"
Her lower lip began to quiver, a wail soon escaping her throat. "Me an' Meg tried t'make it blond for my birfday! It got all messed up!" She clutched at Erik again, sniffling out her sorrow against his shirt.
"Oh my sweet Christine…" Erik sighed as he ran his fingers through her discoloured locks. "You were lovely the way you were!"
The observer stumbled back, surprised at such casual conversation between the two.
It led him to believe they KNEW each other. Were close, even.
He had heard this Erik looked like a corpse. He did not doubt the description. But why would this girl – this beautiful girl – give him her attention?
"If you truly want it blonde, I will give you money to have it done professionally. Consider it part of your birthday gift," he heard Erik console the girl.
"I loff you!" this Christine squealed as she hugged Erik tightly. "Loff you sooooo mushhhhhh!"
The observer shook his head frantically as he watched the scene before him. Drunk or not, drugged or otherwise… this girl was not lying with her words.
How was that possible?
Pretty things did not love ugly things! He had been taught that from birth. He had LIVED with that knowledge all of his 23 years.
How dare these two destroy everything he believed in?
Not wanting to witness any more, the observer quickly ran towards the car in which Martine had been waiting, and commanded she help him find another victim.
Her only protest was the measly payment he provided her with.
Erik's Room – 30 minutes later
Erik placed the intoxicated girl in his arms gently on his bed, not wanting to leave her alone in her current state.
"Join me?" Christine's soft voice insisted. Erik looked down to see her staring up at him.
Erik hesitantly complied. "How many birthday shots did your friends buy you?" he asked as she curled up against him.
"Mmmm... free-erm-three..." she mumbled against his chest. "an'a strawberry daq'ri. OH... and a wine cooler."
Erik groaned quietly. She was going to be sick as a dog. "Expect a nasty hangover in the morning."
"I can stay here, can't I?"
"If you wish."
"Good!" She snuggled closer. "So whadd'YOU get me for my birfday?" she asked.
"Well, I suppose I can tell you." he said. "Tomorrow night, I have arranged for you to perform - one night only - as Suzanna in the Populaire's production of Le Nozze di Figaro."
Christine let out a squeal of delight. "You DID? ERIK!" She tugged off the mask and smothered his face with kisses. "Tha's why you were teaching me th'part these last few weeks!"
"Of course."
"Loff you lots!" she said again before her mouth hungrily found his. He could taste her birthday drinks on her tongue, but really did not care at the moment. "OH!" She suddenly broke away. "My hair s'all messed'up though! I can't go on stage!" That lower lip began to quiver again, but Erik spoke quickly.
"We will get it fixed first thing in the morning."
"Promise?" she squeaked out pathetically.
"I promise." He answered.
Christine nodded vigorously, then grew very pale.
Seconds later, she jumped off the bed and made a beeline for the washroom, the sound of retching heard through the open door.
With a weary sigh, Erik pushed to his feet and plugged in his kettle, preparing a soothing peppermint tea for his poor drunken birthday girl.
Opera Populaire – Manager's office, the next night
"What is this!" Carlotta Gudicelli demanded angrily as she threw the playbill down on André's desk. "Why is there an insert saying that MY role will be played by one Christine Daaé tonight?"
André glance at Firmin. "You didn't tell her?" he asked.
"I thought YOU were going to!" Firmin replied, wanting to sink beneath his desk.
André massaged his temples, a headache beginning to form. "It's a favour for an… acquaintance. It's Miss Daaé's birthday and-"
"I KNOW this girl!" Carlotta snapped. "She was in my vocal class last year! She wasn't even that good. And now… to give her a role on a professional stage?"
"She is VERY good." Firmin defended Christine, though truth be told, he only had Erik's word on that.
Of course, Carlotta knew nothing about Erik.
"Who told you that? Your Antoinette?" Carlotta snorted. "Of COURSE she would say that! Christine is her daughter's best friend. But I tell you I taught her. Her voice had no spirit! No emotion! She will be bland!"
"Ms. Gudicelli, please." André spoke again. "It is only for tonight. I don't understand why you're making such a fuss. If she's one of your students, shouldn't you be proud to see her on stage? Shouldn't you be proud to see how well she's been doing after having your guidance?"
He tried another tactic. "Why, even your husband, Ulbado, told us she was quite the jewel. He taught her last semester, I believe. Said she must have had a wonderful teacher." André leaned forward. "Certainly he meant you…"
Carlotta stopped ranting for a moment, her voice growing softer. "Ulbado said I was a wonderful teacher?" she asked.
"Of course!" André replied, though he knew it was Erik's teaching that had been impressive, not Carlotta's. Still, it seemed the flattery was working.
Carlotta studied André another moment, then turned to Firmin. "So then, was it Madame Giry asking you to give the child my role?'
Firmin opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again. He didn't want to implicate Antoinette as she had had nothing to do with it, but he could not very well tell Carlotta about Erik.
"It was me," came a voice from the doorway.
Of course, if Erik wishes to reveal himself, Firmin thought silently, Who am I to argue?
"And who are YOU?" Carlotta demanded of the tall masked man who had just stepped into the office.
"No one you need to worry about," Erik replied coldly. "Firmin is doing a favour for me, and I do not need some third-rate college professor whining about it. Go back to the school and tend to your first-year students. Leave stage performance to the professionals."
Carlotta's mouth fell open, her eyes wide as she stood appalled at the strange man's audacity.
"DO you know who I am!" she demanded as she stormed up to him, "I used to be the Prima Donna of the De'feo opera!
Erik studied the woman calmly. "Then how is it you are only a college professor now? Could it be because you have not aged gracefully?" he asked.
Carlotta sputtered at the insult, but Erik was not done.
"After all," he continued. "A Prima Donna DOES have to be somewhat pleasant to the eye and the ear, not some aging wench who does not know when to shut up and step down."
"How DARE you!" she gasped. "How DARE you stand there and insult me when you know I could very well take it out on that little child you seem so very fond of!"
"I DARE because I know you will NOT take it out on Christine. You are a first-year professor and she has moved past your class and beyond your teachings." He then opened the door for her. "Now if you will excuse us, the mangers and myself have some business to attend to."
Carlotta stood rooted, eyes darting between Firmin – who looked so very apologetic – and André - whose headache had become a full-blown migraine, thus giving him an excuse to bury his head in his hands.
"That was not a request, Ms. Gudicelli!" Erik hissed darkly, his hand still upon the door.
"We… we will still see you tomorrow night… Ms. Gudicelli…yes?" Firmin asked weakly, hoping and praying she would not just up and leave the production.
With a snort, Carlotta left the office, Erik slamming the door behind her. A yelp on the other side indicated it had hit her in the backside.
"Oh Erik…" André groaned into his hands. "Why?"
Erik shrugged his shoulders. "She will get over it," he said.
"Easy for YOU to say!" Firmin sputtered. "It is not YOUR life she is going to make hell for the next three weeks!"
Erik waved away their concerns and grabbed a chair, sitting down gracefully and propping his dirty boots up on Firmin's desk. "Now tell me, gentlemen… will there be anyone of note in the audience tonight?"
Dressing room
Christine sat before the makeup mirror and studied her reflection. She slowly ran a hand through her new hair and smiled. Meg had said blonde would suit her. The girl had certainly known what she was talking about.
Her smile widened as she remembered the look in Erik's eyes when she had gone to show him that his gift did not go to waste… though it had taken 3 and a half tedious hours to undo the damage she and Meg had wrought upon her poor hair.
Her thoughts were interrupted as the makeup lady came up to her. "Let me just take one last look at you, darlin'" she said with a smile, quickly checking Christine's makeup before heading off to one of the other girls.
The reality of Christine's situation then struck her hard.
This was a real stage, in front of real people, in a real theater.
God help me…
"Tea?" A smooth silky voice asked her as a gloved hand placed a mug down on the table in front of her. Erik took the empty chair beside her. "Are you feeling all right? No repeat of last night?"
She shook her head. "Mmm, no…just nervous." She replied, not wanting to be reminded how she had thoroughly emptied her stomach in Erik's bathroom less than 24 hours ago.
She was never drinking again, birthday be damned. It always led to no good.
With a shaky hand, she picked up the lukewarm mug and sipped at the contents, the peppermint tea helping soothe her nerves a little.
"You will be fine," he replied as he gently brushed a golden curl off her forehead.
"Thank you for your confidence," she said when she put the mug back down, "I wish I could share it... but I don't think the patrons paid to see some lowly college girl perform in an opera."
Erik tugged off his gloves and took her little hands in his larger ones. "Come now, this is supposed to be fun, angel. It is your birthday present," he said. "If you sing it as you did in our lessons, then it will be wonderful. The patrons will have no complaints." He met her eyes. "When it comes to your vocal skills, I do not say such things lightly."
She nodded, knowing how fastidious he could be when it came to her voice. "Good luck hug?"
Erik stood up and pulled Christine to her feet to embrace her. "You will be fine."
Opera Populaire - Twenty minutes later
Erik settled in Box 5 and wrapped his cloak around him, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible. The last thing he needed was for those in the audience to look up and see him sitting there.
His breath caught as the overture began, and he waited.
When Christine came on stage, he was quite sure his heart would leap out of his chest.
She seemed so very natural. All her anxiety earlier seemed to disappear the moment she opened her mouth to sing.
Erik sat transfixed through the entire performance, barely moving, hardly breathing.
The applause that followed Christine's bow was almost deafening.
He was so very proud of his little angel.
Erik's Room - 2 hours later
Christine hugged the bouquet of roses closer, inhaling their sweet scent as Erik opened his door.
"I do hope you enjoyed your night," Erik began as he shut the door behind them.
Christine placed the flowers upon his desk and went up to him, startling Erik when he saw the tears in her eyes.
"What is it? What's wrong?" he asked worriedly.
She simply shook her head and pulled him in for a kiss, unable to find the words to express her feelings at that moment.
But then, actions always did speak louder than words. And tonight, she wanted to show him how she felt.
Christine reached up and unclasped his cloak, letting it fall to the floor before tugging at his shirt.
"What are you doing?" Erik asked, eyes wide.
She said nothing, instead slipping her hands beneath the black silk and pushing it up his torso slowly, fingers playing over the revealed skin inch by inch until finally she was able to pull it up over his head.
Still silent, Christine reached up to slide his mask off his face before wrapping her arms around him and placing tender kisses upon his skin.
She slowly edged Erik towards the bed and gave him no choice but to sit upon the mattress.
"Angel?" he gasped, his breath coming quick and harsh, Christine's attention sending delicious shudders throughout his body.
She put a finger to his lips and climbed into his lap, a leg on either side of him as she gently guided his hands to the buttons of her blouse.
He did not know what to make of it, but now was not the time to question such things.
Erik simply did as instinct guided him and gently lowered Christine to the mattress, his mouth finding hers as clumsy fingers began to unbutton her blouse.
Far too busy kissing her, he did not even look as his hands slid over the lace of her now exposed bra.
Christine pushed herself up only slightly to let the shirt slide down her arms, freeing herself from the fabric before her little fingers tangled in his hair once again, bringing him down atop her.
Erik's lips traveled over her jaw, her neck and shoulder… until he finally hesitated.
He raised his head slowly and met her eyes, apprehension clear in those golden depths. "I… I love you so… so very much!" he gasped out. "I don't know…what… what I am doing. I… I have no idea-"
Christine placed a tiny palm on his mouth. "That makes two of us. Just kiss me right now. We'll take it from there."
He swallowed thickly. This night was leading to far more than either had experience with. How far, exactly, was unclear. But Christine did not see fit to ask him to stop.
Yet.
Meeting her mouth once again, Erik's graceful hands danced over her little ribs and abdomen before moving back up and gliding to her back, playing over the hooks of her bra as he brushed gentle kisses over her heart and pulse.
Christine released a pleasant sigh as his fingers unhooked the clasps, sliding the straps off her shoulder and freeing her from the lace and wire.
He looked down at her, hands trembling as he explored the newly revealed skin - before he froze once again, uncertain what to do next.
Erik closed his eyes and released a shaky breath. Insistent fingers quickly tangled in his hair and guided him, a little sound escaping Christine's throat as his lips made contact.
He would have to remember the effect he was having on her, what he was doing to bring forth these lovely noises.
His hands slowly continued to travel, a palm grazing her thigh, bunching the material of her skirt as he shifted atop her.
He felt Christine shiver as his hand slid higher, the tips of his fingers brushing against lace lingerie … an eager whimper rising from his angel…
… until hard knuckles rapped upon his door.
The two suddenly jumped apart, Christine instinctively clutching her arms over her chest.
"Erik? Are you home? Your cell phone has been off all night. I've left message after message!"
Christine suddenly felt like crying. She knew that voice, knew what it meant if it was asking for Erik at this time of night.
She closed her eyes and hung her head, her freshly coloured curls falling forward, unintentionally hiding her lovely form from Erik's eyes.
"Damn…" Christine cursed, a disappointed pout on her lips.
Erik's response, however, was far less polite and was soon followed by an animalistic growl as he shouted out his tormentor's name.
"ANTOINETTE!"
"WHAT do you WANT!"
Giry released a startled gasp as the door to Erik's room flew open. It was not only his obvious anger towards her, but the current sight of his exposed face that had caught her off-guard.
She quickly turned her attention to the doorjamb, not wanting to see such harsh skeletal features in the candlelit darkness.
Erik cursed when he realized he was lacking a mask, and immediately placed a hand over his face and turned it from her.
Giry glanced back at him, hiding her relief. "What on earth could I have done to deserve your venom tonight?" she asked, then furrowed her brow when she saw another form moving in the darkness, a little manicured hand offering Erik a piece of black cotton.
His mask. Giry realized. Which means…"Christine?"
Giry had been so used to Erik being alone all these years that she had not even bothered to think that he could have company now.
Christine stepped forward, her skirt a rumpled mess, her blouse looking as if it were thrown on at the last minute, the buttons not even lined up properly… and the girl's hair – now a golden blonde - as disheveled as Giry had ever seen it.
Sweet heaven, what did I interrupt? Giry wondered.
"What do you want, Antoinette?" Erik asked through clenched teeth as he slid the mask back on.
"Yes… well…" Giry cleared her throat. The last thing she wanted to do was raise his ire, but orders were orders. "Leroux would like you to … to show him the punjab lasso. Tonight, preferably. At Headquarters."
Erik's eyes narrowed, voice dark and dangerous when he spoke. "And why would he want that?" He cocked his head to the side, brow raised beneath the material of his mask. "Would this have anything to do with the dead girls?"
"Dead girls!" Christine gasped.
Erik glanced over to her. "Nothing for you to worry about, angel." He turned back to Giry. "IS there, Antoinette?"
"No. It is… only a precaution. You know that."
"Precaution?" Erik hissed. "A precaution to assume that I might be behind it?" He stepped forward. "If Leroux wants my rope, TELL him to come get it HIMSELF!"
"Erik!" Christine placed a hand on his arm. "I… I don't know what's going on… but maybe… if you take care of it right away… it'll be over quicker?"
He met her eyes, and she could see the burning anger in those golden depths.
"I… I can be here when you get back… if-if you want." She blushed, hoping to ease his temper.
Erik took a deep breath and shook his head. "I do not know how long this will take. You are not to deny yourself sleep waiting for me."
"But-" Christine's protest was interrupted as he placed a finger to her lips.
"Trust me, Christine. I will be in a rather foul mood when I return. It's best you go to sleep now."
Christine swallowed at the edge to his voice, but nodded her head. "O-ok. Take meback to my room then?" she asked.
Erik glared at Giry. "May I do that, Antoinette?" he spoke bitterly. "May I be granted the right to walk Christine back to her room?"
"Of course, Erik. I will wait for you in my office," Giry replied. She turned to continue down the hall, suddenly stopping mid-stride as she glanced over her shoulder at him. "I trust you… even if Leroux may not."
She then headed back down the hallway, leaving Erik to duck into the bathroom and dress in more appropriate clothing before leading Christine to her room a few minutes later.
Once he was sure Christine had settled in, Erik headed to Madame Giry's office.
Perhaps the executioner would soon face his own execution.
END OF EPISODE 40