I made a few changes to this chapter since my beta read it, I posted it without her thorough eyes scanning it. I apologize, Mlle.Fox; I wanted to make a change in a character that will come into play later in the story...I beg your forgiveness, my friend.
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Enjoy my lovelies!!
DARK SIDE OF THE GLASS
CHAPTER 4
Paris, France; February 1874
"I am telling you, something is not right."
Meg was visibly upset. Annette sat beside her on the small settee in their living room. The sun beat down on their backs, shining through the open window with a gentle ferocity.
"What did you see, Meg, you are not making any sense?"
"It is not so much what I saw, as what I heard."
Annette raised her head and furrowed her brow.
"Alright, what did you hear?"
Meg abruptly stood and began a methodical pace, causing Annette to be even more concerned.
"I was in the market square, wanting to buy some fresh fruit and bread. I happened to look up and see Carlotta mulling about in a dark, shadowed corner. She was acting suspicious and kept looking around as though making sure there was no one watching.
"I grew a little curious, as I tend to be, and followed her. She went behind a gate and then followed a narrow dirt path to an alcove behind the old meat market. I stayed far enough behind that she couldn't see me, but close enough that I could see her.
"She waited a few seconds and then knocked on a door that was almost invisible, unless you know where it is. The door opened, but I did not see anyone. She went in and the door closed.
"I went up to the door, hoping to hear what was being said, but I couldn't hear anything. I circled around to the side of the building and found a window; thankfully, it wasn't bolted shut and I shimmied it open…just enough to hear a few words that were being said."
Meg looked at her mother's face, knowing that her story was capturing her attention.
"I heard a man's voice – a bit muffled at first, so I raised the window a little higher."
Her eyes grew large and her hands trembled.
"It was Piangi, Maman, I am certain of it."
Annette raised a brow and gave a scoffing sigh.
"Nonsense, Piangi has been dead for two years."
"Has he?" Meg questioned. "Remember, after the fire, no one could find his body…then Carlotta claimed she had had the mortician pick it up and it was being prepared for burial. Then, at the wake, she had the casket closed and no one actually saw him."
Annette thought back to that day and realized that Meg was right; it had been rather strange at the time. Meg's theory made sense and she wasn't a girl to give into strange whims or rely on stupid hearsay. She was a levelheaded girl with beauty to match.
"You are certain it sounded like Piangi?"
Meg nodded her head and relaxed, knowing that her mother now believed her.
"Could you find that door again?"
Meg nodded again, this time more forcefully.
"Give me a couple of days to round up some help; then, take us there."
♠♣♦♥
Strangely, Raoul was most disturbed by the news.
"You know what this means, do you not?"
Annette was the one pacing this time. She was wound tight, and pacing helped ease her erratic nerves.
"Of course I know what it means, it means Erik is innocent." Annette spat, thinking that Raoul still wanted to believe the worst about Erik.
"Of murdering Piangi, yes; but what about Bouquet?"
Raoul had determined, long ago, that there was more to Erik than he had originally thought.
"You and I both know he could not have killed Bouquet...his death was crass and messy, not Erik's style at all..." Annette was eager to prove her point. "...and Erik would have never allowed himself to be seen as openly as that, especially if he had been intent on killing someone; he is too smart for that."
Raoul knew she was correct and could not dispute her reasoning. Although he had tried to dismiss Erik as a deformed maniac bent on revenge and bloodshed, this was not the image Raoul had in his mind.
A heartbroken man standing on a shore watching his only chance at love and happiness drift away with another man - this was the image Raoul was left with. He knew that Erik had sacrificed his own desire to allow Christine to go with him, and Raoul was not sure he would have done the same, had the roles been reversed.
"Maybe he finally lost whatever hold he had on his sanity and snapped." Came his feeble attempt at holding onto his original thoughts of Erik.
Annette smirked viciously and gave the Viscount a contemptuous stare.
"That's not true, and you know it." she spat, "I told everyone over three years ago that there was someone out there imitating Erik…playing him and devising some evil to get him accused of murder."
Raoul stood bold and erect, staring into the flames of the burning fireplace, as he relived his history with the man known as the Phantom of the Opera.
"He tried to kill me, or have you forgotten?" Raoul spoke softly, trying to convince himself.
Annette couldn't hold back the small chuckle that floated on the air.
"That is ridiculous, Raoul, if he had wanted you dead, you would have been dead…but he is not a murderer." Her insistent tone wrapped around his conscious and he knew that what she said was true. "He has killed in his time, Raoul, he has made that quite clear…but murder is a completely different thing."
That was true; as an aristocrat, he had been trained to kill with a sword, should the need to do so ever arise. However, he had never had to use that training – until he had confronted Erik in the graveyard.
Looking back on it, Raoul knew that he had initiated that fight by approaching with his sword drawn. Although Erik had ended up on the ground, he was the better swordsman, and Raoul was very much aware of that. If Erik had not tripped over the exposed root of a tree, it would have been Raoul on the ground.
"He was trained to kill, Raoul, and it sickened him…he had no intention of killing you, it was just a ploy to manipulate Christine…and he could not maintain it as he watched her slip away from him."
Raoul was certain of one thing, Erik had loved Christine with an intensity that scared him…and her – but he was certain she had loved him back. He went to the chair and sat down.
"You miss him."
It wasn't a question, but a statement full of wonder and disbelief.
"I love him…he is as a younger brother to me..." although that is not how I have always felt toward him. Annette felt the choking sting in her throat and fought to keep it at bay, hoping her thoughts did not betray her. "The opera misses him also…nothing is the same."
Raoul scoffed and threw his hands up, "You are correct in that…ticket sales have never been so low and I cannot keep pouring money into a sinking ship."
"There is no quality to the music or the productions, Raoul…Erik wrote all the operas that were not written by the likes of Mozart, Beethoven or any of the other well known composers."
Raoul cocked his head sideways in thought, he narrowed his eyes at her and they were filled with unspoken questions.
"What are you saying….the music was always signed by somebody with the initials M.E.L."
Annette shrugged her shoulders and smiled, "Of course, Monsieur Erik Lacroix."
"Lacroix…that is his family name?"
"Well, it is his mother's last name….that is all I know."
Raoul arose from his seat and came to stand beside Annette in the fading light of the afternoon.
"Back to the situation at hand, what would Piangi and Carlotta gain from faking his death?"
She looked away and narrowed her eyes, keen intelligence and strong determination floating in their gray depths.
"I do not know, but I intend to find out."
♣♥♠♦
Raoul gathered a few men that were loyal to his family and followed the map that Meg had fashioned for him. He hadn't told Christine about the latest development in the mystery surrounding the opera house; she would know soon enough.
They found him, sitting quietly in the dungeon he had been forced to stay in – he was especially surprised to see them, thinking his secret would remain just that – a secret.
"How did you find me?" He asked, not even bothering to look innocent.
"Your lover has been discreet, but not discreet enough…she was spotted lurking around and someone followed her…the rest is – as they say – history."
Raoul was pleased with finding the shifty man hidden away like an animal. For some reason, unknown to him, he wanted to believe, for Christine's sake, that there was hope for the man known as Erik – whose talent and genius was apparently very hard to duplicate.
"Tell me, Ubaldo, why did you go to so much trouble to fake your own death?"
The heavyset man hardly moved a muscle as they stared accusingly at him.
The Police Chief emerged through the door and waited patiently for some sort of answer.
"Yes, I am curious to know the answer to that one….speak up, Udaldo….I need to hear what you say."
It seemed the voice of the Chief finally penetrated Piangi's formidable shell.
"Where's Carlotta?"
Piangi suddenly felt as though he was drowning and he wanted her beside him.
"Do not be concerned with her; you need to think about yourself."
"Where is she?"
His tone was becoming demanding and panicked. His eyes suddenly began circling the room like a caged animal and he began to breathe frantically.
"You are in no position to make demands, Ubaldo, answer the questions."
When the man refused to say anything else, Chief Borinuex, laughed without humor and spoke to the young men that had come with him.
"Take him to the station…we will get answers there."
Raoul nodded his head in agreement and followed them as they hauled Piangi to his feet and escorted him out the door. The people that walked the marketplace watched as the belligerent man was physically lifted into the paddy wagon and taken away.
♣♥♠♦
A further search of the small apartment awarded them a confusing and old map of what appeared to be the bowels of the opera house and several scribbled notations that made no sense to the unknowing eye, but Raoul was certain that Carlotta or Udaldo could enlighten them.
There was also evidence of another person living among them. A younger man's clothing that wouldn't fit Piangi was found hanging in a small closet hidden in the far corner of a back bedroom.
Raoul grabbed a few samples and carried them with him to the police station; he needed answers and he couldn't stop the sick feeling that was settling in the pit of his stomach.
He stopped to gather Madam Giry on his way to the police station, knowing that she would want to know what was going on.
"We found him; he and Carlotta are both down at the police station."
Annette felt a sudden swell of excited energy course through her. What did this mean? This changed everything concerning that night two years ago; and nothing made sense anymore.
"I am coming with you…" Annette began, only to be interrupted.
"…and so am I." Meg came down the stairs in a flurry of blue.
Raoul smiled, happy to accompany the two attractive women to the police station to find some answers.
"What about Christine?"
Meg had been wanting to ask for some time, not sure if Raoul had said anything to his young wife.
"She does not know…I want to tell her, but I am unsure of her reaction."
Annette put a firm hand on his arm, drawing his attention to her.
"She needs to know Raoul; it is the right thing to do."
He smirked nervously and lifted uncertain eyes to hers.
"I know, but…." he was rather hesitant to voice his concerns, "…I know she misses him…she never talks about him, but I see it in her eyes."
"You see what in her eyes?"
Raoul creased his forehead and then looked at Meg, "The love she had for him."
His words were whispered and strained; he hadn't wanted to face that truth – at least not for a very long time.
"She did love him, Raoul - in her own way. However, she was too young to deal with the way he made her feel. He made her feel things she wasn't ready to feel yet, and she did not want to feel them for him - he was her teacher and mentor."
Raoul began to squirm a little in the seat. Madam Giry's words had managed to make him even more uncomfortable.
"What will happen if he comes back – and he is no longer the criminal everyone thought him to be…what guarantee do I have that she will not leave me for him?"
Annette quenched his jealousy with her loving and motherly touch.
"You have the certainty of her love for you…and the promise she made to you, Raoul…he loved her but she did not return it in the same fashion." She smiled warmly and continued to console him, "What makes you think Erik would even take her back? He has assured me in his letters that he realizes the folly of his ways."
She bowed her head and closed her eyes, remember his harsh words - directed toward himself.
"If he ever loves again, she will never know...he has sworn this to himself." She looked into the disbelieving features of the young viscount, "He does not want to see what he saw in Christine's face and eyes, in another woman."
Raoul sighed quietly at her words. They bothered him; and he did not know why. A part of him knew that he should be relieved - knowing that Erik had no designs on Christine; but to see someone purposefully living a life devoid of love disturbed Raoul - on a level he was not ready to deal with.
"You know where he is."
He didn't ask it as a question, but stated it as a fact. Raoul could sense it in her words and demeanor.
"Of course, I have known since a few months after he left."
He nodded, accepting this knowledge with calm ease.
"I hope you see him again."
"Me too, Raoul…me too."
♥♠♣♦
"So, let me get this straight, you and Madam Guidicelli found this map - several years ago - hidden below the opera house and have been searching for this treasure ever since that time."
Ubaldo rolled his eyes and practically spat at the police chief.
"Why do you bother me? I have told you, we did not find the map - it was given to us."
His tone was quite intolerant and Raoul had just about had enough. The man was very insolent for being the one in handcuffs.
Meanwhile, in the other interrogation room, another detective was asking Carlotta the same questions.
"Tell us again, Madam Guidicelli, we need to get this straight."
"I em sick of dis! I haf told all dat I know…you kip asking de same questions and I kip giveeng the same answers!"
Her reactions were much the same as her lovers, only she tended to be a lot less patient than Ubaldo.
"Right now, in the other room, your lover is giving up the name of your source…the one who gave you the map."
Carlotta's eyes shot up and she narrowed them at the detective with something akin to loathing.
"He would not dare tell you about Pieter…"
She realized her mistake as soon as the name escaped her lips. She slapped her hand across her mouth and her eyes fell to her lap, closing in disgust.
The detective marched out of the room, along with one of the guards.
Piangi sat lazily in his chair with a smug look on his flushed face. He watched as the detective and the police chief whispered quietly several feet away.
"So, Monsieur Piangi, your lover just crumbled and gave up Pieter." The chief stared with steely eyes, making Ubaldo feel rather like a laboratory animal.
Piangi's face turned beet red; and, had it been possible, he would have blown smoke out his ears.
"That misbegotten son of ours...hunt him down like the scoundrel he is...he eats my food, breathes my air - and she wants us to be a family - he is psychotic..." he spit on the floor in front of him, emphasizing his dislike of the boy. "...he just showed up a couple of weeks ago - again - he is always showing up when he is not wanted."
The chief smiled and Ubaldo knew that he had just offered up more information…facts they had not gotten from Carlotta.
"I take it you and Pieter are not on the best of terms."
Ubaldo smiled brutishly and his eyes went dark with hatred.
"She babies him and coddles him, despite his 24 years - it has been that way since he was a child." His tone was one of bitterness and jealousy. "He convinced her that he could get the treasure and we could live like royalty."
Raoul frowned, "That obviously did not happen."
Piangi ignored his intrusive words and continued, "He was obsessed with that freak - the Phantom..." he gritted his teeth and literally seethed the next few words, "...Pieter has always been more fond of men than women - his mother's fault, I am sure of it."
"Indeed." Both men agreed, not believing what they had just heard.
"You will get nothing more from me…."
Ignoring the large man's announcement, Raoul pressed onward.
"Why the show, Ubaldo - why try to convince everyone that you were dead?"
He snickered evilly, but did not look at them.
"The thought of having that freak hunted down like an animal for my murder was priceless..." his face contorted in a horrible manner, "...treating Carlotta like he did - thinking himself above all of us when he could not even show his his maggot infested flesh to us...he is unnatural - mark my word..."
It all been a ruse to get Erik blamed for his murder - amongst the chaos of that night, no one had noticed when Piangi had disappeared and showed up for a closed casket funeral a couple of days later.
Ubaldo scanned the room with nervous eyes and clamped his teeth shut.
"You will get no more from me."
"No need, Piangi, you have been quite helpful."
Raoul fled from the room and immediately started out the door.
"Where are you going, Viscount?"
Raoul turned back to look at the chief.
"To go find this Pieter…he is the one who knows why they have a map, where it was found and maybe he can answer a few other questions I have."
Chief Borinuex approached Raoul and spoke calmly, trying to relax the over zealous young aristocrat.
"Viscount, tell me what other questions you need to have answered."
"I have been talking to Annette Giry about the events two ago, the ones that led to the burning of the opera house."
"The night that Monsieur Piangi supposedly perished."
"Yes, that night."
The chief was intrigued. That night was barely mentioned anymore, and especially not by those who had been so closely involved.
"What about it?"
Raoul smiled and then began backing out of the door.
"Come with me, and you'll find out."
They both walked out and headed back toward the market square.
"The boy does not know that we have his parents. He should return to the apartment and think nothing is amiss. Then we will get more answers."
The chief agreed and they went into the apartment and waited – until sundown.
♦♠♦♥
With his parents locked away, Pieter felt he was being sucked into a dark hole with no hope of getting out.
Raoul stood looking at the young man before him; he was not much younger than Raoul and he looked vaguely familiar.
Detective Hulet seemed unperturbed by the young man's terrified jitters. Every limb on the boy's body trembled.
"Is your name Pieter Mallory?"
The boy just sat for a few minutes, rocking back and forth to a silent melody.
"Is your name Pieter Mallory?
This time, it was asked with much force; but the young man didn't even flinch.
"It is." He finally responded, stoically.
"Have you recently been released from Belmont Hospital for the mentally ill?"
Pieter lifted empty eyes to the man who spoke. It was then that Raoul realized the boy was not trembling from fear – but rage.
"I was."
"Madam Carlotta Guidicelli and Monsieur Ubaldo Piangi are your parents, is that correct?"
A wicked smirk was seen.
"They are."
"Are you a product of their torrid affair that has been going on for years, despite the fact that they both have spouses?"
A scoff rippled through the room.
"I am."
"Now Pieter, where did you find the map in question and how does it tie into the events that occurred on the night of the fifth of April, 1872?"
The young man laughed hysterically, causing everyone in the room to doubt his sanity, but his speech was coherent and his smile malicious – he knew perfectly well what was going on.
"I found the map several years ago, while rummaging through some old wooden crates I found in a buried cellar in the back of the stables. I was curious and started deciphering the language and hidden clues that were contained within it….it took some time, but I finally managed to find a few of the minor artifacts that it led me to."
"But you never found the treasure?"
Pieter continued to stare ahead with blank eyes.
Raoul stepped forward with a few questions of his own.
"Did you murder Joseph Bouquet?"
Pieter lifted his eyes and showed no emotion for a few moments. Then, a slow, malevolent smile covered his face.
"It was fun, making him squirm like an animal…he had to die…he had designs on him…the Phantom…" at the mention of Erik, the boy's voice softened, "…he thought to take my place…" his voice was sour and full of disdain, "…no one will ever take my place."
Raoul thought the boy was done, but was surprised to hear him continue.
"…Bouquet mocked him every day – through his words and deeds…he was planning on taking him from me."
"You speak of the Phantom?"
"Making them think I was him was easy…combing my own hair back and donning a mask, very few even cared to think otherwise…Bouquet found out…he wanted the Phantom for himself."
Raoul laughed aloud and slammed his fist against the table, shaking the young man into reality.
"You did it; you killed Bouquet and let all of us believe that the Phantom did it."
Those cold, calculating eyes met Raoul's and a shiver ran up his spine like a cold mountain river.
"He had to die…do you not understand…he would have killed Erik." Pieter's voice became whimsical and light. His thoughts were jumping sporadically from the Phantom to Bouquet, "I do not understand how he could have loved that trollop – she practically fornicated with you on many occasions…." Pieter scowled at Raoul with contempt, "…He would have loved me…I know he would have – if he would have known."
A sick feeling arose within Raoul as he started putting the pieces together.
"What about the night of Don Juan Triumphant, what were you up to on that night?"
The smile was sadistic and Raoul could barely stand to look at the twisted face of the once handsome young man.
"My greatest work..."
"Tell me about it."
"Why should I, you were there."
Raoul was loosing patience and still had not heard about the night in question.
"I was, but I want to hear your version."
The face went eerily calm and the voice that he used was cool and calculated – robotic.
"I rigged the chandelier to fall, I needed to create a diversion – to get to him and get him out so we could be together…I knew that you would have the police everywhere – trying to corner him." Every time he referenced the Phantom, his voice took on a tenderness that crept coldly up Raoul's spine, "I did not count on him taking Papa's place, but that did not change my plan."
Pieter snarled, producing a vicious, grueling smile that chilled Raoul's blood.
"We were going to burn the entire opera house down and escape out the Phantom's lair…I knew I could find it – I had been so close many times. Bouquet and I searched together on many occasions…." Pieter stopped and looked them dead in the eyes, "I had finally found the final resting place of the treasure…"
Raoul wanted to wrap his hands around the young man's throat and squeeze until the last breath was gone; he wondered where this murderous rage had come from.
"…somehow he altered the projection of the chandelier by going down that shaft as far as he did…it missed the orchestra pit and only knocked over a few of the candles…" his agitated eyes shifted over to Raoul's stoic form and scoffed. "…all of you should have died that night…then we would be free."
A rage such as Raoul had never known burned through his veins and he struggled to keep his temper in check.
"Instead, he disappeared…leaving me to…" the malicious smile was back, "…next time, he will not leave me."
Raoul saw the chief motion for him to come to him. He took a long hard look at the young man who had just admitted to heinous crimes and saw how everyone could be fooled into the thinking the culprit had been Erik…from a distance, there was little difference; tall, lean build and dark hair – nothing else would have mattered; especially with the white mask in place.
Raoul left the room, pushing the bile back down his throat – he had almost killed an innocent man; that did not bode very well with him. If that night had gone as he planned it, Erik would have been dead – for crimes he did not commit.
I wanted him dead…even without proof that he had actually done it; what does that make me?
His thoughts were self-loathing as he faced the chief.
"He is demented, Raoul…that is obvious, he belongs in the mental hospital."
"I agree, chief, but there needs to be better security involved."
"What do you suggest?"
Raoul closed his eyes, deep in thought.
"Let his parents bid him good-bye; then, he spends the remainder of his days at Voorhees Institute in Chateauroux."
The chief nodded, agreeing with Raoul's assessment.
"What about Carlotta and Ubaldo?"
"That one is easy….send them packing – after the majority of their possessions are ceased as payment for the damages to the opera house – ban them from entering the country again...or working in an opera house in Europe."
"It is nowhere to be found…"
Pieter suddenly interrupted them. His hallow eyes were bright and soulless. Both the chief and Raoul spun around to look at him.
"…I almost had it in my hands - he would have been so proud..." he spoke of Erik again, and Raoul began to wonder if Erik had been aware of this boys obsession with him.
Raoul was eager to get the events behind them, that treasure had already caused a great deal of heartache and damage. He marched out of the building and knew it was time to tell his wife.
TBC