We've got some theories going about who Christine's admirer could be! Most lean toward Erik while others question the security guard's motives... hmmm... We'll have to wait and see!

Now, onward!

VIII

Christine had taken the note and propped it up against the glass that still held the rose which was just now beginning to droop.

She sat and stared at it for a long while, her emotions not allowing her to consider sleeping. Not yet. Not when she hadn't decided if she should inform the police.

Her first thought had been that someone had followed her home from the restaurant, the eerie feeling of being watched still fresh in her mind. But the note had been waiting for her and someone would need a key to enter the building, so she had almost convinced herself that it was merely one of her neighbors who had overheard and was showing their quiet support, even when others banged on her door and demanded she be silent.

That must have been it. The rose had been a mistaken gift for another tenant while the note was not as nefarious as she had first supposed.

Yet even when she forced herself to change into her nightgown and climb under the covers, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was mistaken—that something deeper was happening and she was foolish not to immediately inform the authorities.

Would anyone notice if she suddenly disappeared one day?

The court would, surely, and that was a comforting thought in its own strange way. Maybe the security guard would be sent to her apartment to demand she show up for the trial, only to see that she had been abducted by some madman.

But in that case they would merely call in one of the jury alternates and maybe, if they were not too busy, they would inform the police that Juror Number 2 had been abducted.

Christine was tired of living alone—so tired of the uncertainty.

When the security guard gave her a thin smile and nod in passing that morning, she almost shuffled past without pressing any enquiries. On her way to the courthouse she had done her best to push away her own troubles so she could focus solely on the trial, but his warning from weeks ago returned to the forefront of her mind and she couldn't ignore it.

"Sir?"

He cast a slightly nervous glance at the guard beside him before gesturing her to follow him to the very edge of the desk. "Is there a problem, miss?"

"Do you know something?"

Maybe that was a ridiculous way to begin a conversation, but the way his expression morphed from anxiousness to pure innocence, and the way his shrug was almost forced in its nonchalance, she realized she had been right to ask so directly.

"Sorry, miss, but I don't know what you're talking about." He glanced at the clock behind him. "Hadn't you better be getting to court?"

She frowned. "You warned me. Weeks ago you told me to be careful, that some might want to take advantage of me. Why would you do that but not give me particulars so I can better protect myself?"

A portly man brushed past her and she had to clutch her purse to keep it from tumbling off her shoulder.

"I didn't mean anything by it, you obviously read too much into it. You just seem like a sweet girl and it's always best to be careful, especially if you live alone."

The knot of fear in her stomach gave an uncomfortable twist. "How do you know I live by myself?"

His eyes widened and suddenly his face hardened and he waved her onward. "Move along, miss, you're holding up the line. Just go up to the courtroom and listen like you're supposed to."

She stepped backward from the desk at his abrupt dismissal, and straight into someone. "Oh, I'm so sorry!" And too late she recognized the oddly coordinated shirt and tie, as well as the just too-long hair.

He had grabbed her waist briefly to keep her from falling, but released her just as quickly. "Alright there?"

She blushed and looked to the floor. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Chagny, I didn't mean to."

He chuckled lowly. "No harm done. And now I have to offer an apology of my own. While I'd love to introduce myself properly, we're not allowed to speak outside of court."

She nodded vigorously. While quite a few of the rules did not make sense to her regarding jury ethics, she understood the importance of having no outside contact with the attorneys.

"I'll see you in court, Miss Daaé." And with a wide grin in her direction that she only managed to catch the end of when she gathered her courage to glance up at him, he hurried up the stairs and likely to his client.

This time her stomach twisted in a different way, unable to ignore his charming smile and gentlemanly behavior. She just hoped they wouldn't get into trouble because of her clumsiness.

Before she went up to the courtroom Christine took note of the guard's nametag and scribbled down Officer Davies onto her notepad. While he wasn't relevant to the case, there was something definitely off about him and if things escalated—and she prayed they did not—she would need a name to offer the authorities.

Christine's cheeks reddened again as she walked past the defense table and took her seat in the jury box, Mr. Chagny chuckling once again at her embarrassment. What she did not expect was the fierce scowl on Erik's face as he glanced at his attorney, for the first time his lips moving and evidently speaking to his lawyer.

She didn't know why but it felt rather shocking that he would speak—he was so stoic and apathetic for so long that for him to break his silence now was surprising. Mr. Chagny also looked taken aback, and she dearly wished she could hear what they were whispering about.

Eventually however, Erik looked mollified, though he still sent disgruntled looks at his attorney every so often.

"Hmph, at least he's glaring at his lawyer today and not at you."

Richard was lounging in his seat, his elbow almost encroaching on her own armrest, but it was his words that rankled her more than his casual demeanor. They were still in a court of law after all. While weeks of sitting and listening to testimony had made her relax somewhat from sheer necessity alone—for her back could not handle much more of her stiff and stringent posture—she still made every effort to dress appropriately and not forget the solemnity of their charge.

Others obviously took a different approach.

"He does not glare at me. If a group of twelve strangers were deciding my fate, I'd want to assess them too!"

Richard shrugged. "To each their own, but it's mighty naïve of you to think he's looking at the rest of us as much as he stares at you." He frowned thoughtfully. "Course, you are the prettiest on the panel and someone as wretched as him just might not be used to seeing a sweet face about."

Christine opened her mouth to offer her outraged reply, but the judge entered and she was not about to take a scolding merely because of Richard.

"Mr. Chagny, would you care to start us off?"

He rose and buttoned his suit jacket, giving Erik an uncertain glance before he schooled his features and addressed the judge. "Yes, your honor. The defense would like to call Claude Debienne to the stand."

The prosecution had submitted photos of the crime scene into evidence, but Christine wished they had been given a picture of Mr. Poligny alive and well so she could compare the two business partners. Debienne was younger than she expected, but probably not far behind the victim's sixty-one years of age. But he carried it well; his grey hair and dark suit a strong contrast that spoke of dignity and wealth.

But what struck her most was the way his eyes flickered about the courtroom. For all the measures he had taken to ensure his appearance was one of quiet composure, his expression belied the attire and his anxiety was more than obvious.

He was sworn in, his right hand trembling, before Mr. Chagny approached him.

"Mr. Debienne, how long were you partners with the victim?"

He swallowed. "Twenty-eight years. I couldn't have asked for a better friend and partner than Poligny, and his death has been most upsetting."

Mr. Chagny smiled grimly. "I'm sure. How would you categorize the relationship between your partner and his wife?"

"Your honor, we are all very aware of the defense's position on the Poligny marriage. Surely we don't need to hear it from this witness."

Mr. Chagny shook his head. "I disagree. By his own admission he is a close personal friend of many years, his relationship with the deceased lasting far beyond the marriage. His insight is valuable."

The judge groaned quietly and Christine couldn't help but smile. She had always thought that being a judge was a prestigious position, but with these two particular attorneys it seemed more akin to wrangling schoolyard arguments.

"Make your position quickly, Mr. Chagny."

He made his usual platitudes before returning his attention to the witness. "Their marriage, Mr. Debienne?"

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "They had their problems, the same as any couple."

Mr. Chagny smirked. "I'm not sure it's quite the same. But please give us some examples of what have you've witnessed."

The witness cleared his throat. "They… fought. But all couples fight, so that really isn't unusual at all. Me and my ex would have the biggest rows before the divorce. And after it, too, if I'm being honest."

"Were these fights ever physical?"

Mr. Debienne's brow furrowed. "Did Poligny ever hit Jennifer? No, never. At least, not that I ever saw, and she wasn't the type that would stay quiet about something like that—would have made sure the entire neighborhood knew if he'd raised a hand to her."

Mr. Chagny went to his desk and picked up a file. "Have you ever been to a hotel on… Stratford Street?"

There was no mistaking how some of the color drained from his face even as he quickly tried to cover his unease with a confused expression. "I have a home here in the city. Why would I need to make use of a hotel?"

Mr. Chagny eyed him sardonically. "I'm sure I cannot testify to your state of mind or how you choose to spend your funds. But I do have an affidavit here from the hotel manager, and he claims that he's seen both you and Mrs. Poligny enter his facility on multiple occasions. Now why would you do that?"

Mr. Debienne's mouth dropped open. "We were assured that hotel was discreet!"

The defense attorney chuckled. "That might be true, but I'm sure discretion is waved when a man is accused of murder. Now, were you having an affair with Mrs. Poligny?"

"It wasn't like that!"

An eyebrow rose in question. "Wasn't it? The record already reflects that Mrs. Poligny has engaged in at least one affair, so you're asking me to believe that she did not engage in sexual relations with you as well? What better revenge than to sleep with her husband's business partner!"

Mr. Sorelli rose. "Your honor, Mrs. Poligny's sexual history is not on trial here, and it is hardly relevant to this case!"

The judge hesitated. "Mr. Chagny, I asked you to move things along quickly. Is there a greater point to this?"

He nodded. "I can assure you there is, your honor. I was just getting there."

The judge hummed noncommittally. "Then get there, counselor. Objection overruled."

"If your meetings were not of a sexual nature, Mr. Debienne, what were they about?"

He sent a pleading glance at the judge. "Do I really have to answer?"

The judge's eyes narrowed. "Unless you are afraid of incriminating yourself of a crime, then yes, you are required to answer truthfully."

His lips thinned and his attention returned to the defense. "She was unhappy. We just… talked."

Mr. Chagny looked at him incredulously. "About?"

"Things! I don't know! She asked me what would be involved in a divorce since I was a part of drawing up the pre-nup. I tried to get her to seek some more… professional assistance, maybe some counseling would help them work things out, but she was so angry with him. She felt he excluded her from the business and that's a big part of our lives."

"And were you successful?"

Mr. Debienne appeared distinctly uncomfortable. "Not exactly. She stopped bringing up a divorce, but she… wanted to know a lot of what went on at the theatre. She took special interest in the rumor about a ghost living in the rafters." He waved his hand dismissively. "It was all very ridiculous."

"In her testimony she claimed that her husband took these notes very seriously. You did not?"

Mr. Debienne was quiet for a moment as he stared down at his hands before answering. "I can't say that I did. We caught a few of the understudies in the office once, placing notes and trying to play it off like the ghost had done it. Of course all they really wanted was a better part, and were taking advantage of a rumor to get it. So then when the last threat came…" He shrugged. "Why would I think it was any different? How was I to know which notes were from an actual blackmailer and which were simply hoaxes by the theatre company?"

"And that is why you did not contact the police, even after your friend expressed his concerns to you?"

He sighed heavily. "That's right. I tried to calm him down, remind him of all the pranks that had been pulled on us over the years. I… dismissed him. And I see now that it was one of the biggest mistakes of my life."

"Did you ever see my client depositing one of these letters?"

The witness cast an incredibly short glance at Erik before retuning his focus to Mr. Chagny. "I'd remember a face like that. And no, I never did."

Mr. Chagny pulled out the same photo he had shown to Mrs. Poligny, and Christine noted that the eyes still seemed wrong to be Erik's. "And what about someone in this mask?"

He stared at it for a long moment. "I… it was late one night and I was finishing up paperwork in the office. I was startled… I mean, it looks like death! But at the time… I was tired and many of our productions utilize masks. I didn't think much of it. Like I said, a lot of our employees are known for their practical jokes."

This time Mr. Chagny's smile was genuine. "If I told you that my client owned a mask, possibly even this very one," he held up the picture again, "would you therefore identify him as the man you saw?"

Mr. Debienne looked unsure. "I… suppose?"

Mr. Chagny held up another photo, this time with a young man holding up the mask beside his face, his hazel eyes easily recognizable from the previous picture. "And what if I told you that this was my paralegal wearing Erik's mask?"

"Your honor, this proves nothing!"

"Witnesses are claiming that my client is the one they've seen, when in reality it could be any man wearing a mask! I think that highly relevant to this case!"

The judge gave one harsh bang with the gavel and the room fell quiet. "Now, if you're all done shouting at me, while I might not approve of Mr. Chagny's slightly underhanded tactics, he makes a good point. Therefore I am allowing the photographs into evidence. Did you have more questions, counselor?"

"Just one, your honor."

"Very well, ask it."

Mr. Chagny moved closer to the witness stand and Mr. Debienne unconsciously leaned back in his chair. "Do you know who killed your partner?"

His mouth opened before he swallowed, his eyes once more darting about the courtroom. "No. No I don't."

"So you do not think it was this man, fueled by anger at having his alleged blackmail ignored?"

Mr. Debienne scowled. "I don't know what to think anymore. But if you're asking if even now I think that all the notes were genuine the answer is no. Do I think that someone maliciously broke into Poligny's home and shot him in the head, the answer is no."

"Well something did happen, Mr. Debienne, so what do you think took place?"

He was quiet for a long moment and the defense attorney had to prompt him twice more before he gave an answer. "I think that something awful has taken place and that I just wish we could all move past it. I lost a friend that day, and no court ruling is going to change that."

Mr. Chagny's voice lowered and he leaned forward, his expression one of compassion. "Do you believe that my client was the one who killed your partner?"

His face was almost agonized as he cast another quick glance at Erik, and Christine scribbled furiously in her notepad. His entire posture easily related that each word was carefully chosen for something was being carefully concealed.

"If he was in fact the one to send the notes, some of the genuine notes that is, all he wanted was the theatre to improve. On those occasions when we did as was suggested, things did go more smoothly. We sold more tickets, the reviews were better… but Poligny was afraid of catering too much to a blackmailer so sometimes we ignored it. The accidents that followed were just that: accidents. I have never seen that man, and I'm… uncomfortable saying that I believe he escalated that quickly as to murder my…"

His voice trailed off and Mr. Chagny nodded. "No further questions, your honor."

"Mr. Sorelli? Do you have any questions for this witness?"

He rose and took Mr. Chagny's place before the witness stand. "You have no evidence that it wasn't this man, do you?"

Mr. Debienne sighed. "No, I don't. Like I said, I don't know who actually killed Poligny or their true motive. It could be him, but I cannot say for certain and I won't pretend to."

"How closely have you followed the police investigation?"

His lips thinned. "This has been extremely difficult. Every day I go to work and think about my partner. Every decision that I once would have consulted him on I now have to make alone."

Mr. Sorelli's head tilted. "That doesn't answer my question."

"It was too difficult to listen to the details! To hear about suspects and evidence when I was just trying to keep the theatre going and comfort Jennifer at the same time."

The prosecutor raised his hands in a placating manner. "Completely understandable. But because of this, isn't it safe to say that your view of what happened to your friend is uninformed? That your opinion on this case is from a lack of knowledge of the facts and evidence, and not because you truly believe this man to be innocent, as Mr. Chagny would have us believe?"

Mr. Debienne frowned. "I suppose so."

The defense looked ready to object but Mr. Sorelli held up his hand. "I have no further questions, your honor."

"Alright, then we'll break for lunch and reconvene in an hour; court is in recess until then."

Christine did not miss the glance Erik gave to Mr. Debienne as he passed, nor the way the witness kept his eyes carefully lowered.

And once again Christine was certain they were not receiving the full story.

"That man could pierce someone's soul with eyes like that. Betcha he can even manipulate people into doing whatever he wants, like some mad hypnotist."

Christine gave Richard an exasperated look. "You shouldn't make assumptions about people, especially not when on a trial!"

Richard merely shrugged at her attempt at scolding. "You just wait 'til you're as old as I am. Then you'll start to trust your instincts about people."

He shuffled past her and although she knew his words were based on nothing more than a man's prejudice, still her thoughts lingered over the strange note she had found the night before.

"Miss? We're going to have to lock up the courtroom. Shouldn't you go find some lunch?"

So lost had she been in her own thoughts she had missed the room emptying of occupants except for the bailiff still on duty. "Oh, I'm so sorry!"

She grabbed her purse and stood, but before she vacated the room completely she turned to the young man following behind. "Tell me… if you can… does the defendant have any known associates?"

His brow furrowed.

"What do you mean?"

She huffed, annoyed with herself at trying to express thoughts that were only half formed in her own mind. "I mean… does he have people working with him? That have not been arrested? Could he have contacted someone on the outside and they'd… do what he asked of them?"

The bailiff grew very still. "Miss, are you in danger? Have you received a threat of any kind?"

She smiled wanly, his earnest expression making her quite sure that if she told him of the note that her fears would be taken very seriously.

But at the same time she did not want more trouble. She could be imagining Erik's interest in her, and he was already facing such steep charges, it seemed unfair to claim that a single note and a flower could have come from such a man, especially when he had been in custody for many months now.

"I'm sorry I brought it up. It's nothing. Really."

He didn't seem to fully believe her as he finished escorting her from the courthouse. "Miss, if you're in trouble you need to speak up. We take the protection of our jurors very seriously and just because we don't know of any associates with this… gentleman, that doesn't mean he doesn't have any. If you receive any threats, even if they don't seem very serious, I want you to tell me, okay?"

She gave him her most convincing smile. "I will. Thank you."

But as she walked away to seek out her lunch for the day, her conscience still prickling by not giving the bailiff the full details, she wondered if she had just made a terrible mistake by mentioning it at all.

Sooo... looks like Christine bumped into a certain someone! And Erik wasn't too happy when he caught the end of their exchange... Think that means something? And what do you think of Poligny's business party? Trustworthy or no? And maybe there is something fishy about the security officer after all...

Please review!