Disclaimer: If you don't own it, what makes you think I do?

Well, chapter 12 is now up! Aren't you all excited? Probably not, but oh well, I am. I saw Pirates of the Caribbean 2 on the 15th! When we saw Davie Jones playing the organ I started to laugh really hard because it made me think of a phanfic I had read the night before. I was the only person in the theater laughing. I kept cracking up at the wrong times because my friend kept making funny comments or grabbing my arm when she was nervous, including the part where Will is being beaten. But now I'm in mourning the loss of a certain character (sobs).

Btw, the more reviews I get, the faster I'll update. Last time I only got 1 review! 1! I would like at least 3, please and thank you!

Chapter 12: A New Plan

Henri awoke in a strange room. He was lying on a comfortable bed with soft expensive-looking red blankets and satin pillows. The cut on his shoulder and chest had been cleaned and bandaged. He felt rested after the first good sleep he had had in days. A watery black curtain prevented him from looking at his surroundings properly. He hesitated for a moment, then he pulled it pack and climbed out of bed.

The walls were a grey stone, but most of them were covered by black hangings. The bed was made of beautiful bronze and molded in the shape of a swan. A tall mirror loomed in one corner. A chest of drawers stood in another. It was made of a rich, dark wood. The whole room smelled vaguely of roses. Henri took a step forward and saw that there was a clean, folded white shirt lying on the dresser. He assumed it was for him and put in on. He looked in the mirror. The shirt was just his size. But he also noticed his appearance had hanged since he had last looked at his reflection. His hair resembled a bird's nest and his face looked tired, despite his recent sleep. But his eyes had a new gleam to them; he knew now there was still hope for Madeline. Erik would help him now. Erik was the Phantom of the Opera. Henri had read stories in the newspaper about his passage ways under the opera house, the crimes he had committed, the designs he had drawn, and the fact he had never been caught. If anyone could save his daughter, Erik could.

Henri walked out of the bedroom and found himself in a room with an organ. Erik was sitting on the bench. He looked up when the other man walked in.

"Good afternoon, monsieur. I did not expect you to awaken for another hour or more."

"What time is it now?" Erik produced a pocket watch from his vest and flipped it open.

"Half past four. That wound of yours re-opened while you were in the mirrored room and bled quite a bit."

The memory of the mirrored room made Henri shutter. It had been utter torture, being in that place. He had seen Opale there. He had believed her to be alive again. He had dove for her and reached out so he could hold her in his arms, and he would just meet cold, unfeeling glass. His own reflection would sneer and say "Fool! The dead never come back! You know that!".

"I have a suspicion as to who have taken your daughter." Erik's voice snapped Henri away from his reverie and back to the world.

"Who?" he demanded eagerly.

"Monsieur Armand Brunet. Madeline's former fiancé." Henri suddenly realized that Erik had just said something Henri should have noticed days ago. Armand was the perfect suspect! The man had called off he wedding for Madeline's sake, but he could have discovered he needed the girl. He decided to only way to get her was kidnap. He had the money to hire rouges who were experts in the field. Erik continued speaking.

"I have a plan. You will arrange to have dinner with Armand. While you are with him, you will drag on the conversation for at least two hours. If he is like most wealthy persons, his servants will begin their meal once he has already been served. While everyone in the house is occupied, I will search it for any signs of your daughter." Erik wasn't just proposing this idea. This was the plan, and it wasn't going to change.

"Alright. It seems good to me."

The two men continued to discuss the plan for a while. Once they both felt they knew it well and it would work, Henri prepared to set off for home.

"Wait." Erik stopped him as he stood up. "Let's write the message to Armand now. I will have it sent this evening."

"I could just write it when I get home."

"We should do it now."

Henri was not too keen on the prospect of arguing with the Phantom, so he wrote the message and left it with Erik. In return, the masked man showed Henri the way out of the abandoned opera house. He had then hurried to collect Genevieve and get back to his shop.

"I want to know what happened." The little girl demanded as they removed their jackets and boots. Her father knew it was dangerous to let her know what had gone on that day. He did what just about any parent in his place wouldn't do: he told her everything. She has the right to know. He thought.

"So you'll be away again tomorrow?"

"Yes, Genny. I'll make arrangements for you to spend the evening at Clarisse's while Erik and I are at The Brunet Mansion."

"Why can't I come with you?" Genevieve pouted. Henri sighed.

"You are only nine years old, Genevieve. These are not matters that children should become tangled in. Besides, it wouldn't be safe. What if Erik did find something? Anything could happen. A fight might break out. I don't want you getting hurt. Or worse." The girl muttered something in protest, but in the end she reluctantly agreed. Henri felt a little sorry for her. So many things were happening around her and she was completely helpless. She want so desperately to do something, but it was always "too dangerous" or "not for children" or "not for girls". His mind raced as he tried to think of a way to cheer her up.

"Listen, Genny," Henri said, putting his hands on her shoulders. "I heard from a costumer that in a few weeks' time there'll be a traveling fair in town. A fair with lots of sights, rides, and those games you love so much, like ring toss. When this mess is all sorted, you and I and Madeline will all go as a family and forget our worries and do something fun together again. How does that sound?" the girl looked up at him with big, wondering eyes.

"Can Erik come too?"

Henri stared at his daughter in astonishment. Why did she want Erik to come? What was he supposed to say? Well, Erik is a bit of a family friend now, I guess. "Yes, Genny. Erik will come with us. And we'll spend the whole day at the fair."

"Alright." Genevieve nodded, but did not seem convinced.

"It's getting late. We should both be getting to bed."

"Yes, Papa." The girl nodded obediently again and walked to her room, closing the door quietly behind her.

That was strange. Henri noted. She seems very out-of-sorts tonight.

---

The next morning Henri came home from mass and went straight to work while Genevieve disappeared upstairs.

"Message for Mr. H. Boufard!" he chimed and held an envelope out at arms length. Henri snatched it away, knowing already who it was from. The boy removed his cap and held that out, too, expecting a tip. Henri tossed a couple of coins in his general direction, never taking his eyes off the paper in his hands. The boy scowled and grabbed the coins from the floor. He looked at Henri, but the man did not react. Knowing he was not going to get any more money, he turned and left.

The shoemaker never even noticed the boy leave. The front of the envelope had his own name written on it in tidy script. He flipped it over and recognized the seal of the Brunet family. He broke the wax and pulled out the letter. It read:

Dear Henri,

I would be delighted to eat a meal with you. It has been so long since we have last spoken, I rather miss your company. Come to my home at seven o'clock in the evening and show the servants this invitation. They will show you where we will be eating.

Signed,

Armand Brunet

Henri smiled. His request had been excepted. Then, suddenly, he felt nervous. He was going to have to talk with his daughter's ex-fiancé for two hours. What if he figured out what was going on? The whole plan would be ruined, not to mention Armand would be furious if he learned his house was being searched at that very moment, and even more so if he was the real criminal!

So Henri took his mind off his troubles the only way he knew how. He got back to work.

---

At quarter to seven, Henri sat in the taxi as it made its way to the Brunet mansion after dropping Genevieve off at her friend's house. Armand's family had been rich for many generations. Henri did not know the story of how they gained their fortune in the first place, but he knew it had something to do with a great-great-great-great-grandfather who had been a highly successful merchant, or something of that nature. It always made Henri feel insignificant whenever he thought about it. His family had been middle-class cobblers, shopkeepers, and carpenters for as long as anyone bothered to remember. The most exciting thing that had happened to his family money-wise was how last moth his cousin in Calais (a grocer) had found a 100 franc note on the ground. Later that evening, though, he had discovered it was counterfeit and had thrown it in the fire for the good of his conscience.

It had been an accident, when Armand had met Madeline. He had been riding his horse through the quieter streets of Paris when it had been spooked by a rather large dog went it ran right in front of it, barking like mad. He had been bucked off, but immediately he got up and tried to catch the gelding that was now galloping full-speed down the lane and almost trampling a group of children playing a ball game. As it would happen, Madeline was stepping out a shop at that very moment while the horse was coming straight at her. She saw in and walked toward it. As it passed her, she grabbed the reins and yanked them towards herself. She had little to no experience with calming horses, so she followed her instincts. The horse was panicking, rearing and bucking as if it would die if it didn't. The young woman stood her ground and began stroking the horse gently and talking calmly. By the time Armand caught up the horse was standing there, relaxed as it would be as if nothing had happened.

"I assume he is your horse, sir?" she had said, handing Armand the reins. Right away he fell in love with the how her voice sounded and her outstanding beauty. They remained friends for a long time. At least, Madeline thought they were friends. But the young man saw her as far more. After half a year, he proposed to her. She was not in love with him, but it would be terrible etiquette and a horrible stain on Armand's reputation should she refuse.

Armand was a sweet man. He often seemed boring at first, but he was really a very shy person around new people. He was selfless and compassionate. He had a great love for children and animals and did not enjoy doing things that many others of the higher class did every day, such as gossip.

The thought of Armand made Henri think about the plan and Erik again. He wondered how Erik would know when to enter the house and when to leave. He had asked those very questions the day before, but Erik had not replied. He had acted as if he had never heard. Again, Henri knew that it would be a bad idea to pursue the issue.

Henri also thought about why he considered Erik a family friend. Genevieve seemed to like him. Henri thought he was an odd yet interesting man. Erik was very knowledgeable. He was also very handsome, except for his disfigurement. It made Henri sad and angry to think about why society despised the Phantom. Erik was logical, talented, intelligent, and even charming at times, but people refused to except his face. Society has a terrible tendency of being stupid.

The carriage came to a stop in front of a huge manor. Henri stepped out into the steady drizzle that had been coming down the whole day. He looked at the cabby. The man was so bundled up he could only see one of his eyes. Henri could not blame him, though. It was very cold out, and his job involved him being exposed to most of the elements for hours at a time. The cabby nodded once and drove the horses around the house without even giving Henri a chance to pay him. Strange. He thought, but he decided not to complain. Instead he walked up to the big oak doors and took a deep breath. He took the knocker in one gloved had and hit the metal against the wood gingerly, as if he expected to be punished if he knocked too load. No one came. He tried again, harder, and a young manservant opened the door.

"Bon soir." Henri said nervously. "I'm here to have supper with Monsieur Brunet. Here's my invitation." He passed the paper to the manservant, who nodded and moved to allow the guest to enter.

"Monsieur is in the sitting room. I will take you there." A maid rushed out from nowhere and took Henri's coat, hat, scarf, and gloves and then disappeared again. The youth lead him up a three flights of stairs, down more halls than Henri could keep track of, and stopped in front of a wooden door. Henri's cut started burning again. The servant walked into the room beyond the door for a minute, then returned and nodded to Henri. "You may enter."

Henri stepped in slowly and the door closed behind him. The room was cozy and warm, with comfortable armchairs and a very soft carpet. There was a handsome table in the center of the room and a bookshelf full of fine books along one wall. A fire was roaring in the fireplace in the corner.

"Hello, Henri! It's wonderful to see you again. It really has been too long since I've had anyone over for dinner. Take a seat." There was a pause. "Are you alright, Henri?"

Henri felt like he was going to be sick on the beautiful carpet. Sitting in a chair on the other side of the table was Armand. His voice was still cheery as Henri remembered it, but he looked nothing like he had before. The skin on his face looked exactly like the burn on Madeline's leg, only worse. It looked like his face was going to drip off of his head at any moment. An inch or two of his hairline had been burned away and was only now beginning to grow back. At least the burn was starting to heal, but it was leaving terrible scars. Armand realized what Henri was staring at and tried to cover it with his hands.

"I'm sorry, Henri." He said through his fingers "I completely forgot! I haven't been getting any visitors lately, and I was so happy when I got your letter, I didn't think before I wrote you back. I apologize. I will not be offended if you leave."

Henri sighed. That was a very Armand-like thing to say. If someone in his presence showed any sign of discomfort or unhappiness, he would immediately think it was his fault and would apologize until someone explained that he had nothing to do with it. He also had a habit of blowing his own flaws out of proportion. It was a very rare trait amongst the rich.

"No, Armand, it's nothing." He reassured the other man and slipped into one of the chairs. "It was a bit of a shock, is all." Armand slowly took his hands away from his face. Henri showed no signs of fear or disgust, so he continued the way he would normally, as if nothing had happened.

"You probably find it a bit odd, that we're eating in the sitting room. I find the dining room too big and empty for a company of only two. The maids will be delivering our meal in a moment. Also, I have been feeling rather ill recently and walking all the way down to the dining room would be a bit too much for me."

"Oh. I'm sorry to hear that."

At that very moment a young maid walked in with two plates. She laid them in front of the men and scurried out again. Henri looked at the food and noted that it smelled better than anything he had cooked in his whole life. Armand lowered his voice.

"Henri, I can't help but to ask you . . . this has been bothering me for some time . . . how is Madeline these days?" Henri realized he was going to have to tell Armand eventually. He was going to have to stall. He knew very well that he was a terrible liar and would probably let it slip soon.

"He leg was starting to heal steadily, but it was a very rocky recovery." He said hesitantly.

"What do you mean by "was"?"

"Well, uh . . . you see, she . . . she was kidnapped last week, so I honestly don't know how she's holding up."

Armand dropped his fork on his plate with a load clatter. He stared up at Henri. "She was kidnapped?"

"Yes."

"Do the police know?"

"Yes. They called off the search yesterday morning."

"What? Why?"

Henri told him the whole story, from the time he got home on Tuesday to when he got the message from the police. Armand sat quietly, thinking, for a time before he stood up so fast Henri wondered how he got off without fainting.

"They called off the search! How dare they!" Henri was not surprised. Armand got very defensive when it came to people he cared about. "Oh Mary, they call themselves police men! Shall I have to give them instructions on how to search properly?" the rich man made for the door.

Henri knew that if Armand confronted the police, they would question both of them, and they may discover Erik. He leaped in front of Armand and barred his way to the door.

"We needn't go to the police!" he yelped.

"And why not?"

"Because . . ." Henri had no answer to that. His mind raced. He knew he would have to tell the truth. "Because I have a man more powerful than the army on my side."

"Why, Henri, how flattering." Another voice joined the conversation. Oh no. Henri thought. Erik seemed to have materialize by the door.

Armand raised an eyebrow. Without a word, he walked back to his armchair and flopped down. "Henri," he said, rubbing his temples "I know you've done so much explaining this past week, but will you please tell me what in the name of heaven is going on?"

AN: REVIEW!