Inspector Alexandrus

It was dark and stormy nights like this, the Inspector let his feet guide him to where his heart desired. Sometimes if he let go of his inhibitions, he could find himself figuring out a mystery. And tonight, his feet had led him to an Irish pub near Notre Dame.

Ducking in and out of the pouring rain along the sidewalks, the Inspector pulled his heavy black coat more tightly around him and thrust open the door to the pub. The air was heavy with cigar smoke that stung his vocal chords and eyes. Alcohol was on everyone's breath and his senses became suddenly alert. Loud, haughty laughter rumbled from a corner in the pub and somewhere through the smoky haze, the Inspector could see the silhouette of a large group of what seemed to be very wealthy people.

Alexandrus was not a big fan of drinking. Not because he simply did not have enough money to throw into a big foaming mug of brew, but because simply his tongue was ungrateful for the urine-like taste.

Alexandrus surveyed the room only to find himself growing more and more uncomfortable with his surroundings. His eyes shifted downward to his boot covered feet. Why had they led him here?

When a flash of lightning made everyone in the pub jump an inch or two in their seats, the Inspector looked toward the windows and widened his eyes. Sitting beside the window was a young woman. In black she was dressed, still as a statue but breathtakingly beautiful. The Inspector asked himself why he did not see her when first coming in. Had she been there the whole time?

Why was her presence so alluring?

Why was her skin so milky white?

Why was she ghostly and out-of-place in this setting?

Again, the Inspector's feet led him around, towing his body around like a useless doll. When he was so close the young woman that he could feel her body heat, he cleared his throat and allowed his inquisitive nature to be audible.

"Excuse me, Madame."

Something in Alexandrus' stomach somersaulted and goose bumps littered his flesh. This woman was wearing a rather large dark blue hat that shielded her face from the garish light of the pub. She was staring out at the rain with the audacity of a dreamer.

Her hand was propping up her chin and she gazed elegantly out at the storm.

When she did not turn or recognize his presence, he coughed and tried something else.

"Madame, may I be so bold to say that you appear…" He let his voice fade.

"Troubled."

Alexandrus sat down in a chair across from her and folded his hands, focusing on anything but the woman's face. She was hidden mostly by the shadows, which unnerved the probing Inspector.

"You see I am an Inspector of the Law. I came here to this pub on a hunch that following my feet would lead me to the answer I am looking for."

The woman was silent for a moment before she spoke in just above a whisper.

"And what answer are you looking for, Inspector?"

Silently pleased that he was getting somewhere, Alexandrus smiled and moved closer to the shady woman.

"I am investigating on behalf of the Paris Opera House catastrophe. I was hired by a woman living in Lourdes to tie up the loose ends of this case. To get to the point Madame, I am investigating the mystery of the Phantom of the Opera."

Alexandrus studied the young woman carefully, trying to catch a glimpse of the slightest twitch of her fingers intertwined around a cup, the tremble of her barely visible lip, anything that might hint that she was related to the incident.

"And what makes you think I am related to this incident, Inspector?" Her voice was hoarse, perhaps touched by laryngitis. But her words were sweet and innocent. Almost.

Perhaps not politely, the Inspector scratched his head, which was mostly covered by a thick gathering of dark curls. The wonderful onset from his darkened eyes and pale complexion, this native of the north could not conceal his interest of the French mademoiselle. As she turned to conceal her face even further from him, he noticed her hair was dark and as curly as his own, thick and concealing.

"If you don't mind me asking monsieur," the woman began, speaking softly and under the dull roar of the crowd around them.

"What was it you did before becoming an authority of the law?"

Alexandrus' eyes widened and he concentrated on the blood red of her lips. This woman was very bright. Indeed she had sensed his lack of authority and perhaps his creative approach of following a hunch. She was apparently great at reading people.

Alexandrus shifted in his seat and flipped through his brain as fast as he could.

"I was a ventriloquist, mademoiselle."

There was a ghost of a smile on her lips and she shifted ever so slightly.

"Hide you may, Inspector. You are no mystery to me. Not much remains a mystery to me during these dark doldrums." She said, the smile disappearing back into her milky complexion and disappearing forever.

"I am not much of a mystery to anyone, I'm afraid, Miss. How I crave for someone to find me mysterious in my own way, but I am so easy to read. Like an open book."

Alexandrus smiled at the reflection of his words and adjusted the cuffs of his black coat. "You however Miss, are of great interest and mystery to me."

Her lips twitched.

"I believe so, sir. Since you have spoken to me, you have addressed me as both Mademoiselle and Madame. And by your accent, I say that you are English or Scottish."

She paused shortly to take a sip of her drink before continuing.

"Mademoiselle is an unmarried woman and Madame is the opposite."

Without stopping himself, Alexandrus let his eyes drift to her left hand. On cue, the woman curled her fingers beneath her palm.

"And what shall I call you? Mademoiselle or Madame?"

The woman let out a small sigh, "That is a wonderful question, Inspector Alexandrus."

What was this feeling? A feeling of relief?

Alexandrus did not know why he was feeling relieved. His attraction to this woman was out of pure mystery. Because she was unknown, she was attractive. He wanted to probe further and understand her identity.

"May I speak with you again? If it is not too bold to say; you are of great interest to me."

Her head turned slightly in his direction. "Que?"

"May I speak with you again? Perhaps tomorrow?"

The woman turned her head back to the window. Alexandrus feared that she was slowly locking up the doors to her mind, throwing him out. He had probed too far.

"Perhaps," She said finally. The young Inspector let out a breath and turned to button his coat. But another question poked him in the shoulder and begged him to say it aloud.

When he turned once more and walked close to the woman, he opened his mouth to ask her name. Instead, he said goodbye and walked back into the stormy night of Paris, leaving the mysterious woman in the shroud of a peculiar haze.

I'd like to tell you when I put my hands around her neck and squeezed that I had an adrenaline rush, that my blood pulsed through my brain and I wondered why I was doing this.

But it didn't happen that way.

I sat on top of the Diva and laughed as she struggled in the bondage of her limbs. The bitch roared in agony as I held the knife up to her eyes to see. I wanted to savor every moment. The way I dragged the jagged edge over her soft cheek…It was orgasmic.

I breathed heavily and tilted her chin back.

It was a little trouble to get the knife into her throat. But it was worth watching her choke on the blood that filled her lungs.

And when she let out her last breath, I laughed and cried at the same time.

Meg Giry

There was something delightful about the night. The way her dress billowed around her ankles in the wind. Her long hair was being sifted by the night air as she felt the papery envelope poking in her sides. Meg Giry ran through the night to the nearest postal office she could find.

Lourdes was a lonely place where ghosts of the future lay behind every corner. But tonight, this did not deter Meg from mailing the letter her heart had longed for. When she reached the post office, Meg kissed the envelope and wished with all her heart for the strength she knew she had lost.