Chapter 22 – Carlotta's Revenge

Christine awoke the next morning feeling a lot better. Her bruised ankle had gone down a lot and looked almost normal, as had her hip where it had hit the cold damp floor.

At that moment there was a knock at the door.

"Come in Erik." Christine called.

Erik strode in with Porsche at his heels and sat down on the bottom of the bed. Porsche jumped up and nestled herself in the middle. "Good morning, how are you feeling today?"

Christine adjusted herself to sit more upright. "A lot better thank you. That cold flannel seemed to do the trick."

"Well that's good then. Now what would you like for breakfast?" He asked.

"Just tea, I don't feel very hungry actually but I may get something a little later if that's alright?"

"Yes, but you must have something before I take you back to the opera house. You will need your strength for the rehearsals."

Christine sighed. "Oh alright."

Erik smiled back. "You know I am doing this in your best interests. Now, I do not want you to move from the bed, doctor's orders!" He told her sternly.

Christine rolled her eyes as Erik swept out of the door.

He returned five minutes later to see Christine reading a book from the library.

"I told you not to walk." He said slightly frustrated.

"Oh Erik, I can walk. I wanted to get a book to read for the time being. Look, I haven't fallen or anything. I'm fine and back to normal. Stop worrying so much." She remarked sarcastically.

"I didn't hear you." He said puzzled. Usually he would have been able to hear anyone walking about.

"Maybe it was the sound of the kettle boiling, or that I was moving silently and being steady as you told me to, or that you're getting old." She said teasingly.

"Cheeky!" He replied. "I think it was probably the kettle but anyway, here drink your tea."

He handed her the mug and gave her a little peck on the cheek causing her to blush slightly.

Old! I'm not getting old. Although I guess I'm not as young as she is.

"Are you sure you don't want anything to eat. I really would recommend that you have a little something."

"Alright, if it makes you happy then I will have a little toast." She pouted.

"That's better. Is one slice alright?"

"Yes, or I will probably have to be force-fed." Christine whispered sarcastically.

As before Erik swept out of the door, leaving Christine to read the book and drink her tea.

-

There was a knock at Madame Giry's office door. "Come in." She said. Little Meg popped her head round the door. She was looking for Christine. She had been to her room to check up on her as she hadn't seen her at dinner last night.

"Mother, have you seen Christine? Is she with Erik?" Meg asked.

"She had a little bit of an accident walking down the passage." Madame Giry replied.

"An accident? Is she alright?" Meg asked, alarmed.

Madame Giry handed her Erik's note that she had received the previous evening.

"Oh goodness!" Meg exclaimed. "I really hope that she will be alright."

"She will be fine." Erik answered stepping through a passageway into the office. He was holding Christine in his strong arms with her arms around his neck for support.

"Oh God!" Meg said in fright. "Yes I know. You're Erik!" She finished quickly before Erik said anything more.

Christine and Erik both smiled. Erik put Christine down gently on her feet.

Madame Giry stepped forward, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Have you had anything to eat my dear?"

Christine opened her mouth to answer but Erik replied. "What sort of host do you think I am Antoinette?" He said sarcastically.

"I was asking Christine, not you!" She retorted.

"Yes I have eaten, Madame." Christine said.

"Well then you two had better get off to rehearsals and I have to teach my ballet class. So come along you two." Antoinette ordered the two girls.

"Au revoir. Madame Giry, Mademoiselles." Erik bowed to them before disappearing again.

With that all three headed down to the main theatre to begin the day's rehearsals.

-

Clements café was round the corner from the Opera Populaire. A man with dark hair and a pinched face, wearing black trousers and a black jumper, entered and sat down at a table which was already occupied by a woman. He sat down and after a few seconds he spoke.

"I received your letter Madame. So what is it that you require from me?" The man asked.

"I heard that you are a private assassin? Are you not?" The woman asked. Her accent was Spanish and she had a high voice with a demanding tone.

"Yes I am." He stated. "Now what business would you like me to take care of?"

"Mademoiselle Christine Daae."

"You mean the famous soprano of the Opera Populaire?"

"Yes that is the one." The woman replied, hissing through clenched teeth.

"I take it this is a personal vendetta?" The man asked.

"She took everything away from me. But once she is out of the picture those pathetic managers will beg me to come back." She said almost to herself. "I will pay you a very large sum of money, if you can dispose of her."

"How much money will you pay me?"

"Five thousand Francs."

"No, that's too little for someone as well known as Mademoiselle Daae."

"Monsieur Massort. Do you realise who I am? I am the great La Carlotta of the Opera Populaire! I was there before that little former ballet rat stole my glory from me!" She growled angrily.

"Then I assume you will be able to pay me more? Say Ten thousand Francs?" He replied coolly.

"Seven Thousand"

"Nine Thousand"

"Eight thousand monsieur, and that's my final offer take it or leave it!" Carlotta said firmly, standing up and holding out an outstretched hand.

Massort knew he wouldn't be able to get any more than that. He stood up and shook Carlotta's outstretched hand.

"Madame, by this evening you may consider the job done. I will meet you back here tomorrow morning and please have a package containing the money with you." He said, his dark eyes glinting. "If you do not, I advise you to be very careful. I may just do something that may cost you your life."

Carlotta did not seem to take any notice at this warning. "Yes, yes of course. I will have your money, but you will receive it only if I know the job is done. Fair?"

"Very well Madame." With that he got up and turned to go outside.

"Oh Monsieur!" Carlotta called out to him. "If you are caught by the police, under no circumstances are they to know anything of my involvement."

"No one will ever know. I will take it to my grave. Goodbye." With that he bowed and left the building.

Carlotta smiled to herself. Soon I will take back what is mine! No one will dare take my place again!

-

It was around 3 o'clock that same afternoon, when a man approached the Opera Populaire.

"Excuse me sir." Said one of the men standing outside the huge front doors. "What is your business here?"

"I have come to see Mademoiselle Daae. I'm an old friend of hers. She must have forgotten to mention it. I have travelled a long way." He said sadly.

"Very well, ask someone for directions to her quarters."

"Thank you monsieur." The gentleman bowed and walked in.

The man who was wearing black with a sandy coloured jacket walked up the main stairway and took a left turn.

If only I knew where her room was, I could be wandering around here for ages.

He saw a young woman holding a mop and broom down the hallway, heading towards him.

She must be a cleaner. She will know where I can find Miss Daae's room.

"Excuse me mademoiselle. I am looking for Miss Daae's quarters. Would you be so kind as to give me directions? I am a friend of hers and I said I would pop in to visit." He asked politely.

"Why yes. It is along this corridor, up the stairs, then take the second left. Go up another flight of stairs and it's the 5th door on the right. I think that she is at rehearsals at the moment but should be finished soon." She replied timidly.

"Merci mademoiselle." The man said before making a short bow and heading in the direction the young maid had come from.

Massort began to walk, following the directions that he had been given. He was completely unaware that the walls of the Opera Populaire really did have ears. The Phantom of the Opera had heard him speak the name of the talented young soprano whilst lurking behind the walls of the opera house. He decided to follow this man and find out what he had to do with her.

Massort came to the door, and gave a small knock. There was no reply. Trying the handle he found that the door was locked. He removed a hand from an outer pocket and reached inside his trouser pocket pulling out a long shiny object. From what Erik could see from a distance, it was a knife with a blade that was about six inches long. It looked as though it had been sharpened to a wicked point.

Massort inserted the knife into the lock of Christine's door and wiggled it around from side to side. Erik knew that this man was not good news. He felt angry that he was prying into her room. But what was he after?

In a very short time there was a small click and Massort entered the room, checking to see that the corridor was empty beforehand and shut the door quietly behind him.

Erik quietly slipped round to where he could look into the room so that he was able to see what this man was up to. The man then began talking to himself.

"How long will she be? I will make her end quick and painless."

Erik's blood ran cold. This man meant to kill Christine. He felt his temper reach its limits. Christine wasn't due to finish until 5 o'clock. He would have time to get all the information out of this man even if he had to kill to get it. He would make sure that Christine knew nothing of it because he wanted to know that she was safe.

The man sat down in an arm chair which he turned to face the doorway in preparation for his attack. He was holding the knife loosely in his hand.

Erik pulled out his noose which he always carried in the pocket of his cloak and pulled the lever softly so the mirror would not make any noise while opening. He stepped lightly through the open mirror and stood right behind the arm chair before bringing the rope tightly around Massort's thin neck.

Erik's victim dropped the knife and bought his hands up to tug the rope away. His legs were kicking violently. He froze when he heard a soft, menacing whisper come from behind his left ear.

"My dear monsieur, I am at a loss as to why you are in Miss Daae's room. Would you care to tell me why?" Erik whispered dangerously.

The man shook his head. "I will tell you nothing." At this the rope was tightened.

"Is that so?" Erik replied softly. "If you tell me what I want to know, I will spare your one and only life!"

"W – Why would I tell you?" He spluttered.

"Do you wish to meet your end at the hands of me? The Opera Ghost?"

The man in the chair's breathing became more frantic. He pulled even harder against the rope and thrashed his legs about. He had heard of the opera ghost but the way that Erik had said it caused him to panic.

"I wouldn't struggle if I were you. I do not wish to kill you… Just yet."

"How do I know that you are w – who you say you are?" Massort replied with a shaky voice.

"I will ask the questions. First of all, who are you, who sent you and for what reason?" Erik snapped.

"What does it matter? I will be dead as soon as I tell you. But then, ghosts can't really kill can they? They don't exist."

"Really? Well maybe this will convince you." Erik said wickedly.

He tied the rope in a knot down the back of the chair and secured it so that Massort couldn't escape and then moved slowly to the front of the chair so that he could see him.

The ghost is a man but what about the descriptions of his deformed face with no nose?

"You have heard of the infamous Opera Ghost who wears a black cape and a white mask?"

Massort nodded. Erik noticed him turn very pale.

"And also of the hideous face which is sealed behind the mask. Perhaps you would like to see?" Erik taunted.

Massort shook his head violently from side to side. Erik smirked.

"No? Then perhaps you will tell me what I want to know."

"Alright, Alright!" He shouted. "I was hired to kill Christine Daae by a woman, err Spanish accent, high voice, said her glory was stolen by Miss Daae." He panted, he couldn't remember her name.

That toad! Erik thought angrily.

"La Carlotta?" The phantom asked.

"Y – Yes, that's the one. She said she would pay me Eight thousand francs to do it. When she hears the job is done we will meet and I am to take the money."

Carlotta has crossed the line this time. Maybe I can use this fool to get to her. Then hopefully she will get the message.

"Where did you plan to meet?"

"Clement's café. It's around the corner from here. There, that's everything."

"One tiny detail left actually, your name."

"What does it matter?" He retorted.

"Your name!" Erik repeated impatiently.

"Ramon Massort. I'm a private assassin. I get hired by all sorts of people to do their work."

"I could tell your profession, but I only asked for your name." Erik replied tiredly.

Erik adjusted the rope so it was still round Massort's neck. And the other end of the lasso was firmly in both hands.

"Y – You said you would spare my life!" He said, terror laced in his trembling voice.

Erik bent down and whispered again in Massort's left ear. "I lied." He said before giving a sharp tug on the rope, causing his victim's neck to snap.

Massort's lifeless body went limp. Erik bent down and removed the lasso from around the deceased man's neck, and pocketed it in his cloak.

He proceeded to pick up the young man's body in his arms and slip quietly though the mirror. Heading for the stables he dumped the body in one of the horse's stalls and covered it with hay. He would leave it there for one of the young stable lads to find. He just hoped that Christine wouldn't find out. He had promised her that he wouldn't kill again. But Massort would be more use dead than alive.

If he had let him go he wouldn't be able to guarantee his silence nor stop him from killing others on another person's order. He might even have attempted to kill Christine again and succeeded. He didn't know what he would have done if Massort had succeeded. The thought made him feel sick, and even more determined to get rid of Carlotta knowing that she had given him the order.

He walked back down through the passageways, plotting how he was going to make Carlotta pay. He wasn't going to kill her. That was too low for him to kill a woman. He would try to frighten her, perhaps enough to stay away from the Opera or even move out of Paris.

He approached his desk where Porsche was waiting for him. He gestured for her to move off his seat and she obeyed. He sat down and began to write on a spare piece of parchment.

Madame,

The job has been taken care of. However there is a change of plan. I shall meet you in the stables of the Opera Populaire at midnight this evening. This way there will be no one around to see the deal being done and you can have proof for yourself of the death of mademoiselle Daae. I require that you bring the eight thousand francs with you tonight, as promised.

M. Ramon Massort.

Erik now needed Carlotta's home address. It should be in the archives of the Opera where the personal details of all past and present employees were kept.

This is a job for Antoinette.

He pulled out another piece of parchment and began to write a short note for Madame Giry with instructions. So he could acquire the archive folder and obtain the information needed from it.

Antoinette.

As a favour, when you get the chance could you collect the archive folder which contains details about people connected with the Opera Populaire and leave it in your office for me to collect.

Erik.

Erik placed the note in an envelope and sealed it with a red wax skull. He left and headed for the main theatre. Porsche leaped up into the now empty chair and snuggled down watching her master depart in the boat.

-

"For the last time girls, point those toes! Legs straight! Focus!" Antoinette bellowed at her class. "Alright let's try it again."

Madame Giry stood aside and watched her class perform. Again someone did something wrong. Her nostrils flared in distress.

"Grr." She growled. She marched up and down the side corridor a little way placing her hands on either side of her face and looking despairingly up at the ceiling.

She failed to notice a piece of parchment fluttering down from the landing. It hit her straight in the face.

"AH!" She cried in shock and slightly in pain as one of the sharp corners had left a mark on her forehead.

She bent down and picked up the letter scanning through it. She walked back over to her class. "Alright, take a ten minute break. No one is to be late!" She ordered.

She waited until her ballet class had all disappeared off the stage before heading to the administration office.

-

Erik went into her office to find she had done as he asked and left the file there for him to collect.

As he went to pick it up he saw a note on top of it. Saying simply

Next time, be careful where you drop your letters!

Antoinette.

Erik smirked slightly before taking the file under his arm and making his way back down to his lair. He had already found the address and was ready to write it on the envelope and send it to Madame toad.