A/N- Sorry for the delay...life (and relatives coming to visit) make for busy days. Anyhoo just a note of warning, the end of this chapter is rather gross/graphic (but it has its purpose) so please if you have a tender stomach skip to the end after the bold word almost. thanks...
Chapter 18
The two men looked at the door as it slammed shut. Firmin was the first to break the standstill, picking up the brandy decanter and pouring one draught. He swallowed it and began to pour another before speaking.
"I thought the drama was to be on the stage, Gilles." He gulped down the brandy and shook his head vigorously, sending his well oiled coif into slight disarray. "But I swear this place has been nothing but one headache after another. It certainly makes no more money than our other ventures...and hell the chorus girls aren't all that wonderful in bed."
"Speak for yourse-- " Andre cut off at the glare from his partner. "Ahem. Yes you are quite right Richard. And I daresay our patron is becoming as much of a problem as the resident ghost, and I simply don't understand why he is raising such a ruckus."
"Hmmph. I think the thing crawled into a hole and died. I mean it was a good shot..." Firmin's eyebrows shot up at the glare from Andre. "Not the shot to Mlle. Daae you idiot! The one that hit the ghost...phantom...whatever!"
"You're most likely correct." Andre took a cigar out of his desk and sat down in his leather chair. "I mean what chance of surviving would it have? From what the gendarmes said no one had made it back to that house that was found in the cellar...it's probably lying behind some old set, or swept by the current of that underground lake of ours..."
"Which is an explanation that I doubt will satisfy the Vicompte. He wants the proof of a body..."
"Well then let him hire the men to continue looking for one! The commander has already said that his men must return to their regular duties since there has been no further evidence found. And we must return to rehearsals...there's no time like the present to at least use all the free press to fill in the seats for the next performance." He threw the cigar on a tray, seized by sudden inspiration as he grabbed paper and pen.
"What are you doing?" Firmin walked around and began to read over Andre's shoulder.
Andre continued writing with a flourish. "I am hopefully getting the Vicompte off our backs and the Opera Populaire running again." He handed the finished document to Firmin. "We shall simply run an advertisement...an obituary of sorts."
Firmin smiled as he read the paper. "You may have had a brilliant idea for once, Gilles. This might just work."
"I thought so. And to rid us of the Vicompte's pestering all we have to do is produce a sufficiently decomposed body...no matter how deformed our supposed ghost was, any male should do if tall enough."
"Yes, yes..." Firmin nodded again. "Discreetly ask one of those body snatchers who work for those crazed physicians at the medical college and we could have a decent solution." He lifted Andre's cigar from its tray and took a long draw from it. "Provided that it can be done quickly and with the utmost secrecy."
"Hmmph. How many years were we able to keep our true incomes away from the tax hounds of glorious France? Surely we can manage a simple body and obituary, and the publicity will fill the queue once more." Andre got another cigar to replace his lost one.
"Well what are we waiting for? That damned patron is not going to stop breathing down our necks until he gets some sort of proof."
Andre sealed the document. "I will have this sent by courier to Monsieur Renaut at the universite. He will have the good sense to keep this confidential, especially with the promised bribe." Andre stood and walked to the door. "For if the opera ghost is dead, then the part of his salary that we don't pocket should certainly be put to good use, eh?"
Firmin watched his partner's exit and then turned to look out the window. He took a long, last draw upon his cigar before commenting to himself. "Make better use of it and get the hell out of this business."
There were more guards than Madame Giry anticipated, slowing her progress as it accelerated her pulse. She strived to maintain her normal, fierce manner as she walked the corridors, fussing at some of the cleaning women, comforting the younger ballet girls she came upon.
The men posted seemed restless and bored, not sparing a questioning glance for the severe looking woman passing them in the hallways. It was only as Madame made to exit the building that she was finally stopped.
"I beg your pardon!" She exclaimed as the burly man simply stepped in front her, blocking her path to the door. "Are we under some military lockdown?"
"I got orders that no one should leave the premises, milady." His breath assured her that he had spent more time imbibing whatever cheap ale had been available here at one of the least exciting exits of the Opera.
"Well I can assure you I am not leaving the premises. You may or may not be aware this is simply the entrance to the stables." She hoped her face would not betray her as the lies began. "I am not leaving the premises...I am coming here as I have many times before...on a simple errand."
"And what would that be?" The guard belched on the last word, the odor of it temporarily covering the sour stench of his person. Madame grimaced at both the sound and smell before regaining her composure.
"One of my charges has an upset stomach. I have come here to simply get a fresh egg or two to use in a cure."
"Uh-huh. And why can't ya get that from the commissary?"
"They have to be fresh monsieur, plain and simple. And there is one place to get fresh eggs quickly and that is here. Now may I pass, before my student gets any sicker?" And before I lose my nerve and fail Erik.
"You have two minutes, and I expect you to come back through this same door so that we don't have to scour this place for you."
Antoinette forced herself to give the man a small smile of feigned appreciation. "Of course, monsieur. I am sure you and the other gendarmes must be exhausted after the past two days, and with not finding anything, it is undoubtably frustrating."
"Well I promise you if whatever that thing was is still alive we will be here until," He paused, looking past Madame as another gendarme joined them in the hall.
Something's happened....he's been found...Antoinette felt a wave of dizziness threaten until she heard the new soldier's first words.
"We are leaving, Henri. Orders were just given."
"What about finding the..."
"Look, I don't know about that. I was simply told that the captain has ordered us all back to regular posts. He is only leaving Jacques and Michael as extra patrol."
Henri shrugged and then looked at Antoinette. "Well Madame, you are apparently free to hunt for eggs as long as you please now." He moved aside and made a tipsy half bow as he opened the door.
Madame Giry didn't argue, and nodding to the men, made her way quickly past into the stables. She took a deep breath of air, that though it was littered with the scent of manure and stale hay, was a great improvement upon that of Henri. Almost.
She followed the sickly, sweet smell of death and rounded the corner, the light from outside filtering through the door and illuminating the body of the old cow. The gases from the stomachs had already started to bloat the carcass, leaving the legs on one side nearly vertical in the air.
Antoinette shuddered and covered her lower face with a kerchief before reaching in her pocket and removing a small knife. She looked around again but found her only company a few chickens scratching around in the hay. Even they scattered as she shoved the blade as hard as she could between the animal's ribs and the hiss of contained gases followed. She made two more hard blows and then stepped away.
The sound of a cart upon the cobbled walk beyond the door startled her into hiding in a nearby stall, the horse within unhappy about the smell of death so close.
"Antoinette?" A familiar voice asked softly as the door creaked open.
She sank against the stall wall in momentary relief, and then made her presence known. "I am here Nadir."
"The cart is ready."
"I was delayed by the gendarmes...I still have to cut it open."
Nadir read her face and took the knife from her. " I will do it Antoinette. Besides the smellier I am the more likely we are to be allowed to pass with no problems."
He put the knife into the now softer belly near the udder and began to cut towards the neck, the entrails spilling upon the floor as the internal membranes were split.
"You should have fewer problems anyway, Nadir. The gendarmes are leaving." She stooped and helped him scoop the organs into a burlap bag, ignoring the ooze of fluid as she continued. "I do not know why they are doing so now, but it gives you and Erik a much better chance."
"Indeed. But where is Erik?"
TBC