September 8th 1892: Erik
Having a normal conversation with that boy was impossible. The facts that he was a Comte, husband and father hadn´t changed him a bit. He was just as arrogant and incapable of listening as the last time we had met. Well, now he couldn´t help but listen to me. And he had also stopped those ridiculous attempts to free himself. Maybe he was coming to his senses at last.
We were both breathing hard. I hadn´t worked with my Punjab Lasso for a while, and it was quite exhausting. Still I knew exactly how to keep it taut without running the risk of accidentally killing him. That would have been most annoying. After about a minute I noticed that he calmed down visibly. He even closed his eyes. The only thing that was still moving were his lips. Although I had bid farewell to church a long time ago, I recognised a prayer when I heard one.
"There is no need to say your last prayer yet.", I informed him. "Believe me: If I had wanted you dead, you wouldn´t have come farther than the first words. And open your eyes when I´m talking to you. Otherwise I might take it to heart." He seemed so surprised that he did what I had told him. "But… but if you don´t want to kill me, why have you done this?", he asked in a hoarse whisper.
I rolled my eyes. "You kept attacking me.", I explained shortly. "And since I have no intention of returning home covered in scratches, I had to… stop you with my very own method." "Can´t you let go of me now? I will listen to you, I promise.", he said, looking at me in a way that horribly reminded me of his son. Yet while I thought it rather charming when Philippe used that weapon, it was strange to see it coming from a grown-up man. Maybe he should have better let his eyes closed. "No.", I replied. "In the next moment you might have changed your mind a second time, and I´ll have to do it again. But I can make it more comfortable." I loosened the rope a little, so that he could breathe more easily.
"Now we can talk like two civilised men.", I stated, only to be interrupted by a sound strangely resembling a chuckle. "Maybe I´ve made things too comfortable for you. One more insolence like that, and I´ll…" I gestured at the Lasso. He gulped. It seemed that keeping him in a state of permanent anxiety was the easiest solution. At least it was best for my poor nerves.
As nice as it had been to play a little with the boy, I had to start our conversation about the important topic of Christine. We had already lost too much time arguing, and I wasn´t stupid enough not to realise that I was to blame for it as well. Provoking him had been an enjoyable pastime. Yet now we had to get to business. "So… Christine is missing for more than four hours. Do we agree on that?", I asked, giving him a stern glance. He nodded hastily. Briefly I told him about where Mme.Giry, her daughter and I had already searched for her.
"I still don´t understand why she was at the opera at all.", he muttered. "And why did she take the children with her? She never even wanted Antoinette to visit the opera with Meg…" The situation was incredibly tempting for me. How easy it would have been to make up a story about his wife and me meeting in secret! Even the truth would have probably been enough to destroy his trust in her. Yet I simply couldn´t do that to her. Perhaps I was growing soft in my old days.
So all I told him was: "For the moment it´s enough that you know she was at the opera and has fled from there. You can ask Christine for the whole story when we find her.". I tried hard not to think ´if we find her´. "Where else could she be?", I went on. "Do the two of you have favourite places?" It hurt me to ask such questions, to imagine that maybe Christine and her husband did have a part of their life I hadn´t been able to gain access to. Yet I knew how important it was to get all the information I could. "Not really.", he answered, oblivious to my internal struggle. "Apart from the park you´ve mentioned there are a few restaurants we like to go to, but I doubt she is at one of them. Everyone would have recognised her at once and started asking questions."
We looked at each other, and for a moment I was sure we were filled with the same feeling: helplessness. Both of us wanted to find Christine for the same reason: We loved her. And that only made us more desperate. "It would help to know whether she has taken a coach.", I muttered after a little while of silent pondering. "Well, she doesn´t have ours.", he said. "On my way here I met our coachman, who was just going home. He told me that he had waited for her this evening, but she never came. She could have hired a coach, though." "Does she have enough money with her to do that?", I asked. It wasn´t a very good start for a search, but a start nonetheless.
"That depends on whether she has got her handbag.", he replied. "Her purse usually is in it. If she has forgotten it here, it should be at the coat rack in the corridor." "Then we should go there and check it. What are you waiting for?", I called impatiently as he didn´t move. We had no time to lose, and he was just standing there, doing nothing. "I´ve got a little problem here.", he reminded me, gesturing upwards. "Oh…", I made and let go of him quickly. It seemed to have been too fast, for he couldn´t keep his balance and crashed to the floor.
I removed the Punjab Lasso from around his neck and pulled him to his feet. "Thank you.", he said, giving me a lopsided smile. I chose not to reply, but walked out into the corridor, the Vicomte behind me. "The handbag isn´t there.", he muttered after he had examined the coat rack for a minute. "It´s always next to her hats." He pointed at a few hats I had often seen Christine wear.
"So she has got money.", I stated. "Yet even if we assume she had hired a coach, we don´t know where she has gone. She certainly didn´t pick a place that reminds her of you or me…" "Why not?", he interjected, but I didn´t answer. I had decided not to say anything about the subject, so I wouldn´t do it now either. "Still it has to be place that has a significance to her.", I mused. "Like…" "Perros!", he suddenly exclaimed. "Her father´s grave.", I added, nodding. That made a lot of sense. Christine had fled to that place once before while struggling with a decision, so why shouldn´t she have done it again? Moreover, what alternatives did we have? Perros was our last hope.
The Vicomte seemed to share my opinion, for he said: "We can take my coach, but the coachman has already gone home. He lives far away from here and – ". "I´ll drive.", I announced. He threw me a questioning glance, his hand wandering to his throat involuntarily. "I could drive as well, of course.", he offered. I sighed deeply. "Look.", I said. "I don´t like you, and you don´t like me. It has been like that for many years, and honestly I don´t want to change it. But now we have to work together. We have to trust each other, at least till we have found Christine. I am the better driver because I certainly have more experience with the dark. Yet if you´re afraid I could kill you as soon as you´ve fallen asleep…"
I didn´t finish my sentence, but stretched out my hand as a sign of truce. He hesitated for a moment, then seized it and shook it slowly and solemnly. "So I can turn my back towards you now?", he asked. "Yes.", I replied, letting go of his hand. "But don´t get used to it!" He gave me a tentative smile, and I realised that I had actually been almost friendly to him. What a weird feeling!
When he grabbed his hat from the coat rack I advised him: "You should also take one of those.". I handed him a scarf. "We don´t want to scare Christine, do we?" He nodded and tied the scarf around his neck, covering the thin bloody line the Lasso had left. Although I didn´t regret what I had done, I felt better not seeing it. Usually I didn´t like leaving my work half-finished.
Within a few minutes the coach was ready, though the horse had been less than enthusiastic about leaving its stable in the dark. It was still rather frightened as it trotted down the street, but a few gentle words managed to calm it down. "Shouldn´t we go to the opera first and make sure the children are fine?", I heard the Vicomte ask behind me. "That would only cost precious time.", I replied. "They´re probably sleeping. Besides, they´re not alone. Little Meg Giry and her mother are with them." "Isn´t her name Meg Tavoire now?", he muttered. It almost sounded teasing. Smiling slightly I gave back: "Old habits die hard… Vicomte.".