September 18th 1892: the Opera Ghost
It was one of those completely normal days at the Opéra Populaire. There were no incidents that threatened to disturb the usual order of events, and I liked it that way. If there had to be someone who disturbed the others, I wanted to be that someone myself. Of course it wouldn't be called ´disturbing´ in my case. I regarded it as ´correcting´, for I was the one person at the opera who was allowed to tell everyone else what to do. That knowledge made me smile as I wandered through a corridor.
I had always liked those hours around noon, when everything was quiet and peaceful. I could walk around freely, without the annoyance of some idiotic girl screaming because she had seen me. On the one hand it was good that they showed me their respect, yet on the other hand the chorus girls' screams were anything but melodic, and they hurt my sensitive ears. No, being alone here was definitely preferrable.
It was a pity that the opera couldn't remain in this state. Soon the whole building would overflow with liveliness again. People would run from one room to the other, slamming doors and yelling their lungs out, not caring about the damage they did to their voices. But then, most voices were hardly bearable anyway. I didn't understand how those people could listen to themselves without revulsion or how they could consider themselves singers. The only exception was my dear Christine.
I couldn't help feeling my heart grow a little lighter as I thought of her. Yes, she was different from the other girls. She never shouted or ran around without having a good reason for doing so. I wouldn't have allowed it anyway. More than once I had seen a careless girl trip over something – occasionally an object I had placed there myself – and sprain her ankle, thus being unable to dance for a long time. I didn't think that the chorus was the right place for Christine, but I knew she needed as much theatrical experience as she could get before she could become a singer.
And when it came to her voice… I'd have never allowed her to shout, except if she was in mortal peril. It would have been an unnecessary exercise for her vocal chords. If she wanted to train them, there was more than enough time to do so in my lessons, when I was there to monitor and correct her. Only I knew what was best for her, and she accepted that fact with the same unwavering belief with which she accepted my presence.
Come to think of it, where was she at the moment? Had she gone out to have lunch somewhere with the other girls? I couldn't recall having seen her leave the opera. But then, my memories of this morning were a little hazy. It was almost as if something extraordinary had happened, something that I couldn't quite grasp. I didn't ponder too long on it, though. My memory wasn't always too good, particularly with things I preferred to forget. I told myself that if something had indeed happened, it was better not to remember it.
Still I had to find out where Christine was. I didn't like it when she wandered around alone. It was far too dangerous without me, her protector. All kinds of things could happen to her. She was still so child-like, so naïve. I took my role very seriously. If someone harmed one hair on her head, they'd have me to answer to.
It wasn't very likely that she had left the opera, for she rarely did so. She stayed behind when the other girls went out, and she ate her lunch alone in one of the dressing rooms. Perhaps I should look for her there. But then, a glance on my pocket watch told me it was a little too late for her to be still eating. She usually did so right when the break started.
Could it be… could it be possible that I had forgotten we had scheduled a lesson? Maybe that was what I hadn't been able to recall before. It wasn't like me to forget something that important, but as much as I hated to admit it, I was not as young as I had used to be. Besides, I could afford the benefit of the doubt. It couldn't hurt to have a brief look into the room. If it turned out that I had been wrong and it would be empty, no one would ever know I had been there. After all, it was not as if I had to use the door in order to know what was going on inside.
Quickly I made my way to the nearest secret passageway. The corridor leading to it was deserted. I didn't waste any time, but ran my hand over the wall hastily. It only took me a moment to locate the hidden button and press it. A crack in the seemingly solid wall appeared, which grew wider and wider, till I could squeeze through it.
The way wasn't far. After just a few minutes I stood behind the little mirror and looked into the room. Even though there was no light, I could see that Christine wasn't there. Well, she would have hardly sat in the dark anyway. I felt a strange mixture of relief because I hadn't forgotten anything and anxiety because I didn't know where she was. Perhaps my assumption that she had to be finished with her meal had been wrong, and I'd still find her in one of the dressing rooms.
I was just about to turn around and look for myself, when the door was opened slowly. I stopped in mid-turn, expecting to see Christine any moment. Yet it was not my pupil who entered the room. Instead, it was Mme.Giry who came inside, without as much as knocking first. I frowned. It wasn't like her to behave in such a disrespectful way. True, the door was unlocked most of the time to make the access easier for Christine, and Mme.Giry knew about it, yet up to now, she had never used that knowledge to enter the room herself.
Now she even started calling for me.
"M. le Fantome! Are you here? I need to talk to you. It's urgent!"
Watching her look around expectantly, if only a little exhaustedly, I had a brief internal discussion whether to answer. Of course I'd have rather talked to Christine than to the ballet mistress. But then, if Mme.Giry said something was urgent, it was urgent. She'd have never bothered me with unimportant matters. What did we have the managers for?
"What is it?" I asked after a few moments' silence, having decided that a short conversation with her couldn't be too bad. Besides, maybe she'd be able to tell me where Christine was. "How can I be of your assistance, Madame?"
The ballet mistress looked startled, then positively delighted.
"You wouldn't believe how hard it was to find you," she told me.
"Oh, I do believe that," I gave back pleasantly. "And you shouldn't be surprised about it either. If you want to be sure to find me, there's always the possibility of putting a letter in Box Five."
"Yes, but with you – " she began, only to interrupt herself. "Never mind. The point is that we… that I wouldn't have had time to contact you in that way. The business I have to talk to you about is too urgent to wait."
"And what exactly is that business?" I asked, slowly growing a little more interested in the matter.
Mme.Giry hesitated. If I hadn't known better, I'd have suspected she wasn't sure about the nature of the business herself.
"It concerns Christine," she finally replied.
"Christine?" I repeated. "Has something happened to her? An accident?" I could only hope it was nothing that would keep her from singing. We had made good progress in the last weeks, and I'd hate to stop practicing with her for some petty reason like a broken foot. We couldn't afford such delays.
"No, it's more your… I mean, her mental state of health I'm worried about," she answered. "She didn't seem to feel well today, and… and…" She threw a brief glance over her shoulder.
I saw a small motion out of the corner of my eye and was instantly alert. There had been something peculiar about the way she talked right from the beginning. I had had the impression that she had not been speaking for herself only, and now I knew that I had been right. I had clearly seen the door move an inch or two. This could only have one reason: Someone was standing on the other side, eavesdropping. But I would have none of that.
Sometimes I couldn't help admiring my intelligence, which had made me equip the room not only with the mirror, but also with a secret door right next to it. I used it every now and then to prepare the room before the lessons. Now it would serve a different purpose. Quickly I opened it and stepped into the room. With a few fast strides I crossed it, passing the stunned Mme.Giry.
With one hand I gripped the door, while the other one seized the Punjab Lasso under my cloak and took it out.
"Let us find out who's here!" I called, pulling at the door. Within a moment, the noose had wrapped itself around an inviting neck.