"Damn you boy, get help!" barked the policeman, who was trying to find someone to question. The owner, León Chanleaur finally appeared. León was younger than most of great wealth, he was in his early thirties, quite handsome, if not a little crazy. Or so the rumors stated, that León was foolhardy and an alcoholic.
"Bonjour Monsieur, it seems that my opera house is burning." León stated, lazily. He was obviously the worse for drink. He swaggered over to Tom, "My opera is ruined now, ruined!" The loss was great, surely, but it seemed as if all the people had been evacuated. Why bother when the insurance would cover it? Secretly,the officerthought; Let it burn, it's a pile of rubbish anyway.
"It would seem only the theatre is ruined, now Mr. Chanleaur please relay to me what occurred, while Tom gets the fire truck." Tom nodded and rode off in a hurry. León sighed and sat down in the street, clearly drunk beyond belief.
"We were practicing, always practicing, you know." León stopped himself to vomit on a nearby bush. "Erik was singing with Gabrielle, she plays Carmen. Someone overhead was smoking his pipe, opium, I believe-from the smell of it." He added hurridly after areprochful look from the officer."He threw it on the scenery, which is really wood, but behind it lucky enough was paille-straw, in English. It blew right up an-"
The fire truck showed up, pulled by a team of six horses. The firemen instantaneously ran into the flames, while others looked for the nearest water source. After several tense moments, two firemen came out, dragging a severely burned man, who was nearly dead. Monsieur Chanleaur looked about to faint. "My leading man! No-no! That's Erik-my show is ruined."
The officer ran over to this Erik, who seemed to be in great pain. But as he walked ever closer to Erik, he shuddered at the appearance of his face. Half of his body was badly, if not fatally, burned. Blood and tissue were clearly visible, but it was his face that haunted the officer. When Erik turned to the officer, moaning "W-w-water." The officer saw his face-his grusome face.
The fireman dragged out a stretcher from the wagon, muttering things like "He needs to go to the hospital" or "He'll never look the same." The officer ardently agreed with the first, and for the latter, he was repulsed that he, too, admitted it was truthful. It 'twas truly a shame, for the man was quite handsome, if you could overlook his bloodied body. The fireman approached Erik cautiously, as if wondering he'd attack any moment. The fire captain noticed, an old scarred man with a strong jaw, and shouted "Get on with it, men!"
After the fireman loaded Erik, the captain and two man plungled into the flames. The fire wagon's driver whistled, and with a crack of the whip, Erik sped off to the hospital. The officer looked on as the captain andtwo men ran out of the operahouse, panting heavily.
"What is it?" The officerasked, warily. "Another body? A-"
"No, no." The captain swallowed, "We-we investigated the scence and concluded, that the fire was set off by an arsonist." He mumbled something inaudible and looked grimly off in the direction of the hospital.
"An aronist? This is a serious accusation. Whom do you belive to have started this catastrophe?" The officer asked, taking out a notepad and jottingdown the scene around him.
"I suppose it could've been anyone, but I can assure you, asMr. Chanleaur will certainly have a considerable amount of insurance benefits from this event, he will be the prime suspect." The captain replied, frowning at the now passed out Chanleaur on a bench nearby.
"I would assume just so. As for the boy-this Erik, do you believe he will recover?" Tom interrupted, speaking excitedly.
"I doubt if he lives through the next week It will take an angel to do it." The captain answered, without sympathy for he had obviously beenaccustomed to death. The officer and Tom nodded their thanks, and walked away. Each man lost in his own troublesome thoughts.