Title: The Devil We Know

Summary: Christine Daae is the daughter of a recently deceased mafia boss. Suddenly, she finds herself toted as an up and coming gang leader, learning from the Phantom, a man who is feared by even the most powerful in the field as a notorious hit man. Will Christine find the strength to carve her own path, disregarding both darkness and light? Raoul's in it too. I guess.

Disclaimer: Phantom isn't copywritten any more, is it? I don't know. But the book belongs to Leroux and the musical belongs to Andrew Lloyd Webber. Regardless, Erik, Christine, and Raoul aren't my original characters.

Author's Note: Chapter title pilfered straight from episode twelve, season three of Doctor Who. It seemed to fit. I'm on a Doctor Who kick right now something fierce, so where's the harm?

Chapter Fifteen: Here Come the Drums

The next morning, Christine awoke to find Erik tilting his chin up as he tied his black necktie. He was fully dressed, while she was still lying in bed naked except for the blanket draped carelessly over her torso. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes with the back of her hand, she murmured, "What're you doing? Come back to bed."

"Good morning to you too," he said with a tinge of sarcasm. He buttoned his suit jacket before straightening the lapels. "There are a few things I must take care of today. I do not wish to draw out the inevitable."

"What sort of things?" Christine held the blanket to her chest and stared up at him with wide, sparkling brown eyes.

He met her questioning gaze and his resolve was undone. She was naked in bed with her long, chestnut curls unkempt and his heart hammered in his chest. Without hesitation, he walked over to her side of the bed and knelt down to take both her hands in his, pressing them to his lips. "Christine, I never hoped I could feel this level of happiness. You're my angel, you have been from the moment you entered my life."

"You save me from myself. For the first time, I wish I had the ability to protect, but all I know is how to kill." He said as she leaned close to kiss him. Before she could, the blanket slipped, revealing her breasts and she blushed and quickly pulled her hands free to cover herself with the fabric again. Erik merely watched with a half smile on his masked face then stood and turned to leave.

"Erik-" she started, gripping the blanket firmly around her.

"Thankfully, I might still be useful to you even with all my flaws. And so, I'm officially coming out of retirement to serve as your personal hitman," he said in a confident voice, removing his leather gloves from his pocket and tugging them onto his hands.

"But, Erik! If I accept I'll be as bad as my mother. She used you for your talents, manipulated you to do jobs for her," Christine said, balling one hand in the blanket tightly, her anger building. "You must have known that! You're the smartest person I know."

A sad expression crossed the visible half of his face as he gazed down at her. "Of course. After all, your mother learned all her tricks from Madeleine. Perhaps that is why I was drawn to her. She was so much like my own mother. The only difference being that Elizabeth would occasionally show me affection, if caught in the proper mood."

"I can't believe you could love your mother after all the horrible things I've heard. She seems to have no problem showing her hatred for you," Christine snapped, remembering the previous night's conversation with Madeleine. "She gives me the creeps. There's something not right with her."

"No, I don't like her at all. She's a loathsome woman, abandoned with a deformed newborn by her lover. It's easy to say I feel no ounce of love for her, but when she and I are in the same room something holds me back," he said, facing the bedroom door as if eager to leave. "I'll be back later. Nadir should be downstairs. Do not leave without him."

With that, he swept from the room and disappeared down the stairs. Christine sighed heavily and fell back against the mound of pillow propped behind her. He was so business-like and efficient during the day. It was almost unbelievable to think that when the lights were off and they had no other obligations, he would cling to her in the darkness. As if she would slip away in his dreams and leave him alone again.

Stretching lethargically on the sheets, she enjoyed a few more minutes of peace in their shared haven before rolling out of bed and walking toward the bathroom.

Madame Giry's was closed to the public at three in the afternoon, but when Christine and Nadir entered they were greeted warmly. The women were resting at various tables around the bar and looked up when Christine entered, her heeled shoes clicking against the floor.

Meg rushed up to them lightly, her feet barely making any noise as she walked. She threw her arms out and grabbed Christine in a friendly hug. "I'm sorry I didn't catch you last night. I had a very pushy customer. Rich men think you have all the time in the world to spend with them so long as they keep shelling out the money."

"That's alright," Christine returned the hug happily before pulling back to smile at her. "I know you've been neglecting work to help me adjust to this lifestyle. Your clients are probably all jealous of me monopolizing your time."

Her cheerful laughter filled the air as Meg led Christine further into the club with an arm around her shoulders. Nadir followed a few feet behind them, body relaxed and eyes alert. "Jealous, huh! What about you? You're the envy of every woman here."

Christine blushed bright red as she murmured behind her hand, "What do you mean?"

Elbowing her playfully in the arm, Meg winked, "Don't be so shy. Last night, you announced to Madeleine and the whole club that Erik is your lover. And you left in a hurry. There are only a few reasons for such a hasty departure and I'm willing to bet that someone got lucky last night."

"Meg!" Christine whined, her cheeks growing even hotter. "I'm sure Erik wouldn't want everyone to be talking about this."

"That won't stop them." Meg shrugged. "After your little proclamation, the news is spreading fast. That's fine though. It means that no one will bother you so long as Erik is your kept man."

Christine nearly choked on her sudden laughter, surprised by Meg's words. After regaining her composure, she remembered her purpose in coming to the club before opening. "Is Madame Giry busy? I have some questions for her about Madeleine."

Meg wrapped her arms around herself and peered at Christine warily. "You noticed then."

"What?"

"Erik's mother. She's a little off in the head. Always has been." Meg sighed and shook her head, her blonde waves swaying softly from the motion. "Mom says the insanity and violent tendencies must run in the family. Boys are supposed to take after their mothers."

Madeleine's cold, calculating smile filled her mind, her confusing, heartless words piercing her heart. Christine's eyebrows drew together in a look of seriousness as she spoke, "Erik has never sought to hurt me. He places my value above all others. He and his mother are nothing alike. She doesn't love anyone, merely pretends to based on the reaction of those she wants to impress."

At that moment, Madame Giry walked out of her back office and shut the door behind herself, pocketing the key. Christine brushed passed Meg and strode across the club toward the older woman. "Madame Giry, please wait!"

She paused as she reached the stairs and glanced around to find Christine hurrying over to her. "Miss Daae? What brings you here this fine afternoon?"

Christine stood facing her with her back straight, arms at her side as she demanded, "Tell me about the relationship between my mother and Madeleine. I need to know everything you can tell me."

Surprised, Madame Giry stared at the resolute young woman before glancing around the room to find many prying eyes watching them with interest. Taking her by the hand, she pulled Christine up the stairs to her bedroom on the third floor while Nadir followed close behind. He stood on the inside of the door with his arms crossed while Madame Giry addressed Christine. "Girl, pay attention. Nowhere is safe. Not even this nightclub. The women here are all INFORMANTS. They know the value of every tidbit of information and will not hesitate to sell it."

"Madame, if Madeleine is as dangerous as Meg said, why would you introduce her to me?"

Madame Giry crumpled to sit on her bed, rubbing her eyes as she exhaled tiredly. "She called in an old debt I owed her, child. I did not see the harm in a mere introduction and she seemed so eager to meet you. She had great aspirations for Elizabeth, you know. They were to rule the city together, share the power between them. It's why she was training your mother in the first place. She saw raw talent and was almost possessed in her desire to shape it."

"No doubt she sees a similar fire burning in your eyes," The corner of her thin lips quirked upward as she eyed Christine. "As does Erik. Unfortunately for her, he got to you first."

"If my mother and Madeleine wanted to take over, why didn't they?" Christine asked, confused. "They were both strong. They knew how to use people."

"Yes, they were master manipulators. Madeleine still is. But she didn't foresee one small problem." Madame Giry folded her hands on her lap. "Your mother was young and hopeful. Despite Madeleine's best efforts to extinguish it, Elizabeth still had a yearning for love within her. And she fell in love with Gustave at first glance."

"Love has a way of reshaping your priorities," she stated, the lines around her eyes softening. "Your parents were a good team, far better than Elizabeth and Madeleine together. Madeleine cut all ties with your mother. It was too hard for her to watch your parents lead the life of power and privilege that she had always desired."

"She obviously felt betrayed in some way. I do not think Madeleine spoke to Elizabeth very often from then on. Erik, as you know, remained close to your mother until the day she died," Madame Giry finished, smoothing out a wrinkle in her bedspread as silence filtered throughout the room.

Feeling as though the blood had drained from her face, Christine pressed a cold hand to her forehead and took a deep breath. Wanting to know the truth and accepting it were two different matters entirely. "Do you know anything about my mother's death?"

"Nothing more than the next person, Christine." Madame Giry paused before adding, "However, I do know who might be of help."

"Who?" Christine asked, curiously.

"Erik." She replied.

Christine arched an eyebrow in confusion. "Erik? But why?"

"Why?" Madame Giry seemed slightly amused by this. "Because the poor man was the first to find her, even before your father."

For a brief moment, Christine could have sworn black spots swarmed at the edge of her vision, threatening to engulf her consciousness. Stubbornly, she focused on calming herself, and breathed steadily through her nose as quietly as she could manage. Her hands at her sides clenched so painfully tight her nails bit into the flesh of her palms. The stinging of her nails digging into her skin brought her mind back from drifting. "Thank you, Madame Giry. You've been very helpful."

"Not at all. Are you alright, dear?" Madame Giry stood from her seat on the bed and took a step toward her, only to have Christine smile and turn to the door.

"I'm afraid there's something I have to do now. Things are busy since I'm about to move. I still have to find some movers and deal with the paperwork," Christine laughed lightly as she started out the bedroom door. Nadir opened the door for her and followed her down the stairs. Madame Giry stood in her bedroom threshold and watched them make their way to the club entrance.

Meg stopped them before they could leave. "Christine, you're going already? Did my mom scare you away? You know she's mostly talk, she'd probably never do half the things she says when she's mad."

"No, that's not it. I'm just worn out." She placed her hand on Meg's arm reassuringly. "Whoever said 'The truth will set you free,' was a lying bastard, that much I know for sure. The truth only complicates everything."

Meg eyed her worriedly, covering Christine's hand with her own. "Do you want me to come with you? Keep you company? It's been awhile since we got to hang out, just the two of us."

Christine grinned and glanced at Nadir over her shoulder. "We wouldn't be alone. Nadir would be there too."

Meg scoffed and waved her hand. "He hardly counts. More monkey than man."

"Thanks, Meg. I was starting to forget what a bitch you are. That was a nice reminder," Nadir said, rolling his eyes. He turned to Christine. "You sure you want to be seen with her? I hear syphilis is contagious."

"I don't have syphilis, you ass," Meg hissed, squinted up at him before shielding her eyes. "God, the light glaring off your head could blind someone. Grow some hair, skinhead."

"Soon as you cut yours, hippie," he retaliated in a growl. Before Meg could parry with an equally as amusing reply, Christine burst into laughter, interrupting their verbal spar.

Nadir smirked at Meg over Christine's head and Meg winked at him before pouting. "Tie then, bald man."

"Tie?! Are you crazy, woman? I clearly returned one of your jabs with two of mine. Remember? The bitch, syphilis combo." Nadir crossed his muscular arms and sent Meg an intimidating look. She brushed it away with a flick of her hand through her hair.

"I've got things to check out. I'll call you later, okay?" Christine promised as she continued toward the entrance. Meg gazed after her friend with concern, clutching her hands together as Christine left without looking back.

Christine slid into the backseat of Nadir's car and sat in contemplative silence while he started the engine and drove from the parking lot. They headed back towards her home while she tapped her chin in thought. Finally, she asked in a hesitant voice, "Nadir, you heard what Madame Giry said about Erik finding my mother?"

"Of course I did. I was in the same room when she said it. I'm not going deaf yet in my old age." He smirked, eyes watching the road.

"You know what I mean," she said, meeting his eyes in the rearview mirror hanging from the windshield. "Do you know anything about that day? You were my dad's most trusted advisor, right? His bodyguard and personal assistant must have known something that no one else does."

After a drawn out silence, Nadir pressed his lips together in a firm line and nodded once. "Guess you could say that. But why are you stirring up the water now? Your mom's been dead for a long time-"

"I'm not the same person I was a few weeks ago, Nadir. And I'm worried for Erik." She chewed on her bottom lip, eyes lowered as she remembered the hatred she saw burning in his mother's eyes. "Somehow this whole, ugly business had stretched on for years and it caught him and my parents in it like a spider's web."

"You think the same person who killed your mother fifteen years ago is responsible for your father's death?" Nadir asked, confused.

"I don't know anything for sure yet. This all feels too personal. My father tried to keep me safe from it, but in the end, I'm caught in it as well." She stared out the window before meeting his gaze in the mirror once more. "It's a masterpiece for a madman with insane amounts of ambition and patience."

Nadir smirked and scoffed as he said, "Almost sounds like Erik."

Christine's eyes locked onto his, her expression devoid of all amusement. "It does. In fact, all the evidence seems to lead to him. Everyone has warned me about him at one point or another. But would Erik have hurt my mother?"

Nadir turned at a corner and continued driving toward the house. His brow was furrowed and eyes too focused to be staring only at the road before him. Finally, he admitted, "No. He was so sweet on your mom. Should have seen them together. She had him under her thumb and he lived for her praise."

A pang of jealousy shot through her chest as Nadir spoke. The look on her face must have betrayed her emotions, because he quickly added, "Anyway, Gustave was the second person to find Elizabeth dead and he still trusted Erik enough to have him take care of you after he passed. From what I hear, Erik was an emotional wreck, there's no way he could have done it."

"So, my father didn't believe Erik was responsible for my mother's death. Even so, Dad never said Mom committed suicide. Did he keep it from me so I wouldn't be scarred by it?"

"Ah! I can help with that one," Nadir spoke, just as they turned into the driveway outside her home. "First off, you were too young to hear the details when it happened. But when you got older, the reason for him not telling you about Elizabeth's suicide is simple. Gustave honestly did not believe your mother had taken her own life."

"I knew it!" Christine clapped her hands together. "But why? Even Erik thinks she did and he was the first one to find her. Plus, he knew her really well, right?"

"He knew her well enough, yeah. What she would let him see of her personality, anyway. He's not stupid, he could tell she was manipulating him, but he still fell for it. The thing is, even the smartest people have flaws and needs. There's a big difference between intelligence and emotional intelligence, as our masked buddy proves daily."

"Yeah, but that means he didn't want to believe she was murdered. He would have to be in such denial that he would rather think she'd taken her own life." Christine pondered out loud as she opened the car door and slid to her feet. "But why?

Nadir was already standing in front of her, hand on the open car door to shut it behind her. He shrugged, "That's about all I know. Since your dad isn't around anymore, the only person who can tell you the rest is Erik."

That left her with nothing to keep her worried mind occupied for the remaining hours until Erik returned to the house. What he could be doing was beyond her, but she refused to hound him into coming back. Through sheer force of will, she kept herself busy and mind away from the conclusions she so desperately wanted to jump to after all day playing detective.

She was in the kitchen washing a few dirty cups to keep her hands moving when she heard the front door swing open. Holding her breath, her heart thumped loudly as the familiar footsteps fell on the entranceway tiles and further, muffled by the carpet's softness.

Nadir's voice rang out from the living room adjacent to the front door. "Hey. How was business?"

Christine could almost hear Erik roll his eyes from her place in the kitchen. He stated in a voice tinged with sarcasm, "Waiting by the door to welcome me home, Nadir? Where's the '50's style dress, high heels and pearls? Am I to assume my dinner is waiting on the table?"

She clapped her hand over her mouth to keep from bursting out laughing at the image Erik's emotionless words brought to her mind. Before she knew it, he swept into the kitchen as he removed his heavy overcoat. Stepping forward, he caught her around the waist and she backed up until she bumped into the counter behind her. Angling his head down, he placed a solid kiss on her lips before grumbling under his breath. "Mask gets in the way, doesn't it?"

She reached up to trace a small line at the corner of his lips. "A little."

"You're quiet." He said, eyes narrowing slightly as he peered down at her. After a moment, he seemed to remember something and patted his suit pocket until he found what he was looking for. Pulling out a small, purple flower, he presented it to her, one arm still wrapped around her waist.

Tentatively, she reached up and took it from his gloved hand, bringing the precious gift closer to examine. "It's pretty. Why-"

"A five petal, wild Geranium, commonly known as a weed flower. I saw a patch of them on my way back and it made me think of you. This light purple color, it's the same color as your masquerade dress." he murmured, watching her carefully as a string of emotions flitted across her face. He took the flower back and threaded the thin, green stem through her curls so that the lavender petals peeked out of her hair. "It's a nice color for you."

Her throat burned as she realized the pain he must have felt the night he found her mother dead. He was such a beautiful person at times, and she had to ask him to relive that emotional pain so she could find the truth. Taking his hands in hers, she intertwined their fingers. "Erik, I have to ask you something. It's very important that you tell me everything you can, no matter how much it might hurt to remember."

Silence stretched between them until she finally said, "I need you to tell me about the day my mother died."

She saw him stop breathing for a second, shoulders completely stiff, and eyes slightly wild. It broke her heart to see him so ready to run away. She let go of his hands and turned to leave. "I'm going up to my room. We can talk there."

He didn't come up straight away, but then she had a feeling he wanted to compose himself. When she left him in the kitchen, he looked like he was about to bolt or hit something. Probably Nadir. By the time he opened the door and walked into her bedroom, nearly thirty minutes later, Christine was already in her pajama pants and tank top, reading a book.

When Erik shut the door behind him, she put the book down on her nightstand and crossed her legs. She patted the bed next to her. "C'mon, get ready for bed. I left some pajama pants and a T-shirt your size in the bathroom."

He eyed her for a moment, as if torn between two options. This indecisiveness worried her. So she sent him a wicked, playful grin as she started to lift the bottom of her tank top up to reveal her belly, "If you don't want to wear pajamas to bed, I'm game for that too."

This seemed to cinch it. Erik shot her an indignant glare before striding to the bathroom. He came back wearing the bedclothes she had acquired for him. His mask was still securely in place, which was fine by her. It provided him with a sense of control and he might need that security while recounting his story.

He sat on the edge of the bed and considered how best to start as Christine scooted closer to him. Finally, when he couldn't keep quiet any more, he began, "I was on my way to see Elizabeth when I was attacked. The hitman was obviously bad at his job, very sloppy. More than anything, he just got in the way and delayed me a little bit."

It was late afternoon and he was in the driveway outside Elizabeth's house, having just gotten out of his car. The hitman had charged him immediately, jumping out of the tall bushes lining one side of the Daae home. They had danced around each other with bullets and knives for a minute or two, Erik trying to get as much information out of the man before he had to kill him. In the end, no names had been dropped and Erik had led him to the backyard as if making a run for it, before shooting his attacker in the head.

Erik stood over the killer's body, his gun gripped in his right hand as he nudged the corpse with his foot. The man rolled face down in the dirt and grass, blood pooling around him from his wound.

A sudden thrill went through him as he remembered where he was. Elizabeth's house. She was just inside, and probably scared by the commotion. Without hesitation, Erik holstered the gun and dashing in through the sliding glass door. "Elizabeth! Where are you?"

The house rang with silence. No one responded. Something was wrong, normally little Christine would be bounding down the stairs to reach him with her mother in tow.

Erik started walking through the house, open each door with precision, but growing more fearful with each empty room he found. By the time he reached the stairs to the second floor, his heart was pounding so loud he could barely think. He leapt up the stairs two steps at a time, clamoring with fearful abandon. "Christine! Elizabeth! Answer me!"

In that moment as time stretched on and he tried to make it to the top of the stairs, Erik's mind ran through a hundred different horrors that could await him. He slammed into the master bedroom, his breathing erratic and eyes flicking around to find any hint of their presence.

He could have moved onto the next room, but the door to the connecting bathroom caught his eye. It was left open an inch. Something about that chilled his blood.

Taking steady steps toward the bathroom, Erik reached out and slowly pushed the door open. In the large bathroom, in the elegant, ivory and gold tub filled with red water… Elizabeth.

Her beautiful, shining brown eyes were shut. All her limbs were in the water, as if she were merely paused in the middle of a luxurious bath. There was a strange noise: a choking, coughing, sobbing sound.

Oh. That was him.

A soft, worried voice floated from the room behind him. "Angel? Where's Mommy?"

Erik spun around. His gun was in his hand in an instant, pointed at five year old Christine who was peeking out from the closet. Shocked, he nearly dropped the gun with a stifled cry. The little girl padded out of the closet, a scared look on her face. "Did the man leave, Angel? Is Mommy okay?"

As she approached him and the bathroom, he barked, "Don't! Stay there!"

Frantically, he put the gun away and shut the bathroom door before she could look inside. He couldn't let that happen. Christine's large, brown eyes, so much like her mother's, turned up at him in confusion and he broke. Falling to his knees, he scooped her up in his arms, cradling her close to his chest. His tears fell against her brown curls and she reached up with her small hand to wipe them from his face. "Don't cry, Angel."

And her smile made him sob harder. That was how Gustave found them ten minutes later.

Christine stared up at him, his pale face drawn expressionless and tight. She reached out and took his bare hand in hers, running her thumb along his white knuckles. "Erik, do you honestly believe my mother killed herself after all that?"

He glanced at her, wounded eyes confused by the question. His strong, smooth voice cracked once with pain as he said, "How can you even ask that? She slit her wrists, Christine. In the tub."

"Easily done by a hitman, you know that. Why else would I have been hiding in the closet? And Nadir told me, Dad never believed Mom killed herself. In fact, my dad was attacked on his way home that very day as if to delay him. Same as you were."

"Nadir said…? But, how would he-"

"Personal bodyguard, remember?" Christine breathed, reaching up to brush her hand against the left side of his face. "He was there."

"Oh, that's right," Erik was unsettled enough to forget even the most obvious details at the moment. But Christine knew she had to finish, now that she had all the puzzle pieces together.

"Erik, I think Madeleine ordered the hit on my mom. I think she wanted to get control over this city, no matter what it took, and when my mom made an alliance with my dad, it was a betrayal to Madeleine's plans." Christine said, gripping his hands firmly. She was ready for him to deny it, to rail at her jumping to conclusions.

He met her eyes and his face went blank. If not for the shaking of his hands, she would not have known how mad he was. "Erik?"

"That…" he seemed to be at a loss for words in his rage. "I should have known… should have seen-"

How easily he believed her. And now, in his understanding, she could see how angry the knowledge made him. She threw her arms around him and pressed her ear against his chest, listening to his rapidly accelerating heartbeat. "It's just a theory. I just wanted to know who killed my parents. She's been doing this so long, Erik."

"If anyone is capable of this… madness, it's her. She's a master manipulator, as I said," he replied, his voice laced with barely restrained anger. He shook his head and pulled her back to meet her gaze. "Now that you've figured it out, what are you going to do?"

Christine paused, surprised. "I hadn't thought of that. I'm not going to talk to her anymore, that's for sure. I still can't believe Madame Giry introduced her to me."

After a brief silence, Christine still couldn't think of an answer to his question. She smiled at him. "I'll worry about that tomorrow. Let's get some rest."

He hesitated for a moment, staring at the door before finally joining her under the blankets. She burrowed close to him, gently taking his mask from his face and placing it on the nightstand. He was glad to have her near. After remembering Elizabeth's death, it helped to know that a small part of her lived on in her daughter. They were so alike and so different. Sometimes that hurt, but now it was comforting.

Erik listened to Christine breathing deeply and evenly for a while after she had fallen asleep with her arms wrapped around his waist. His eyes fluttered shut briefly and he leaned forward to press a soft kiss against the exposed skin of her shoulder. Christine murmured something indecipherable and a tiny smile quirked one corner of her lips upward for a moment.

Dark eyes gleaming from the moonlight, he sighed and carefully detached her arms from his nightshirt. Not wanting to wake her, he focused on moving slowly and steadily out of the bed. He rolled to the edge of the bed and sat up. Her groggily voice caused him to cringe slightly as he realized she was awake. "Erik? What're you doing?"

"Just remembered something I need to get out of the car." He assured her, turning just enough to show her a close-lipped smile and the unscarred half of his face. She smiled back and squirmed further under the covers, closing her eyes with a muffled yawn.

He grabbed the mask from its place on the night stand before entering the bathroom to get dressed. As he finished tying his tie, he wondered if he should have told her the truth. He wasn't going to get something out of the car.

He couldn't sit by and do nothing after finally realizing the truth. Even worse, he couldn't let Madeleine get away with killing both Elizabeth and Gustave then turn her sights to Christine. How could he expect Christine to handle it? He was her personal hitman, this was his job, even if she hadn't officially assigned it yet. And Madeleine was still his mother, though it made him sick to admit it. As her next of kin, it was his duty to stop this madness.

Fully dressed, he made his way downstairs to find Nadir sitting in the living room with a handheld gaming device. The Tetris theme rang through the room with digital beeps and Erik resisted the urge to grab the annoying device and hurl it against the wall. Instead, he tugged at the bottom of his leather gloves, making sure they were firmly in place. Nadir glanced up as he approached. "I take it Christine told you about her little detective work."

"Yes." Erik sighed, rubbing at his visible temple. "She's very smart. Saw the pieces for the whole puzzle they were."

"So, who done it?" Nadir clicked the game off and silence filled the room. "My bet's on the butler."

"Madeleine." Erik replied, eyes straying to the front door. "Now that I know, I have to go."

"Well, that sucks," Nadir stood up and stretched, tossing the game to the couch. "Want me to drop Christine at Madame Giry's and come with you?"

"No, you stay here. Make sure she's safe. I should be back in a few hours." With that, Erik walked to the front door and out to his car. He unlocked the trunk with a flick of his key and peered into the small arsenal he kept within. He reloaded the pistol at his back and strapped another gun in its holster to his thigh. Knife sheathed under his arm and lasso ready inside his jacket, he shut the trunk with a bang and climbed into the driver's seat.