Not much to say this week, so I won't say much. Just… enjoy the beginning of the new trial! Who's ready to learn more about our 'defendants'?
Onward!
XX
"What, no volunteers?" Erik continued, his voice a dulcet tone of ridicule. "Pity."
He walked behind Ms. Poligny, his fingers deftly undoing the knot that secured the cloth between her lips.
"Water," she croaked out, even as she tried to maintain a hateful glare.
Erik inclined his head as his mouth contorted into a mocking smile. "You did not say please."
She coughed and licked at her lips, obviously contemplating. "Please," she finally answered, her disdain barely concealed.
Erik hummed lowly before walking toward the side of the stage, returning with a bottle of water. He eyed her distastefully as he held it, Ms. Poligny taking deep greedy gulps.
How long had they been kept here?
She thought of her bowls of cereal, her toast, her tea. And then subsequently tried not to feel guilty for eating her fill while Erik might have been keeping others who had nothing.
Apparently Erik had determined she'd had enough for he recapped the bottle and set it aside.
Christine felt bad as the other two men both eyed it longingly.
Erik must have noticed as well, as he shook his head at them reproachfully. "You should have volunteered. But no, you had to remain silent!"
"Erik, maybe you should…"
He rolled his eyes, and she startled when his voice was suddenly at her ear, quiet and almost intimate by its imitation of proximity. "Christine, I can promise you, all three of them shall make it through to their confessions. But the condition they are in when that finally occurs will be up to me. I would thank you to simply listen for a time."
She frowned. Had he just ever so politely told her to be quiet?
Now that Ms. Poligny's thirst had been sated, her glare returned as did her voice. "Let me go! I don't know who you are or what you want from me, but this is unacceptable!"
Erik stared at her incredulously. "I believe I was rather clear about what you were doing here. You are going to confess."
Her lips thinned. "Confess to what? I haven't done anything wrong!"
He chuckled darkly, and even Christine knew that her statement was fairly ridiculous. Mr. Chagny had pointed out quite clearly that she was unfaithful to her husband, which seemed a terrible wrong even by the loosest of moral reasonings.
"Nothing, madam? Are you certain you would not like to amend that statement?"
"What? No!"
"Your multiple dalliances with various men throughout the duration of your marriage was not wrong? Furthering the mounting debt of both your personal finances as well as that of your husband was not wrong? Or perhaps you would simply like to inform us of any possible involvement you had in his untimely demise."
She scowled at him. "As if you're such a saint. Look at what you're doing! You've kidnapped an innocent women and a perfectly decent man as well as…" her eyes drifted to Mr. Nadir and she gave a little shrug. "Well, and him too. And I don't want to even think about what you're doing with that girl up there!"
Christine flinched at that, knowing that Erik would not take kindly to her insinuation.
Her suspicion was proven correct as he leaned in closely and hissed into her ear, the sound low but perfectly audible in the expanse of the theatre. "I would suggest, madam, that you not speak of the lady again. She is here to observe, and you are to answer my questions, not to taint her pretty head with whatever venom you are liable to produce."
Ms. Poligny strained against her bindings as she tried to remain as far away from Erik as possible given what little room she had to move, and when she spoke her voice was filled with disgust. "Then if you thought me so terrible, I wonder why you would wish for me to speak at all. Why not simply kill me and get it over with?"
Her voice quavered a bit at the end, and Christine remembered her own terrible fright when she first awoke in Erik's underground home.
Had it really only been such a short time ago?
Erik stared at her placidly. "The time for your death is not at hand, madam. Not yet. But now is not the time to tempt the Fates."
She cowed at that, but only for a moment. For then she was assessing Erik, her gaze cold and her every expression one of pure abhorrence. "You're that disgusting man from the trial, aren't you? The Opera Ghost. I can't believe the jury acquitted you, your guilt was obvious."
For the first time, Christine began to remember why she had so vehemently disliked this woman while in court.
She could sympathize with their plight, of course she could. But Erik was right when he spoke of the venom that seemed so ready to fall from her lips.
It made her almost glad that she had remembered some of her manners, even during captivity. For even now she did not like to see the flicker of hurt in Erik's manner, the way his shoulders crept ever so slightly inward, although he recovered quickly.
"We are straying from the topic at hand," he stated firmly, his tone brokering no refusal. "I have convened our merry party here to discuss the nature of your husband's death. I can assure you, if you would merely speak plainly and openly about your involvement, all of this shall pass very quickly."
Ms. Poligny's eyes narrowed. "I fail to see any type of incentive. You already think me guilty of something, so to confirm any of your suspicions would give you leave to kill me. If I refuse to cooperate, the outcome would be similar. So tell me, why should I participate at all?"
Erik was quiet for a moment before he released a sigh. And to Christine it almost sounded… regretful?
"Tell me about your son."
The woman's entire body froze, her face paling instantly. "W-what?"
"Your son, madam. He is what… twenty-four by now? You must have had him very young if his birth certificate is accurate."
"I'm not going to talk about this."
Erik took a step backward, his tone perfectly calm. "Very well, then you shall listen. A Jennifer Claremont, born to a prominent family on the East Coast. A bright future. She falls pregnant, and gives a little boy up for adoption. Her parents want the entire messy episode forgotten, but the girl decides she wants a piece of her son, so demands the records not be closed to her. She received photographs and updates, and due to her disobedience she fell further from her parent's favor."
His head tilted to the side. "So far has my tale been accurate?"
She shook her head, her eyes tightly shut. "Please, just stop it."
"At first you relish your newfound freedom. After all, you cannot possibly disappoint them further, now can you? But eventually the bohemian lifestyle begins to bore you and you long for the comfort and security that comes with money and prestige."
"So what, are you threatening my son? If I don't tell you what you want to know you'll find him and hurt him?"
Erik stared down at her, unfazed by her mixture of fear and indignation.
"Perhaps. I would suggest not testing me to find out."
She was quiet for a long moment, but when next she spoke, she sounded angry and frustrated. "What do you want me to say? You said this was about my husband. Do you want to hear about our marriage? How we only got married because I got pregnant. How my parents would have loved that—two children I managed to conceive while still unmarried. Only this time I knew there was no way I was giving up another baby so I did what you were supposed to. I married Edgar. Or maybe you want to know about my miscarriage? About how he wouldn't even look at me afterward, let alone touch me? That I was some great failure with no reason to be married to him anymore?"
Erik blinked at her and Christine too was taken aback. These were not the details she had expected, nor was she even sure she wanted to hear such things. It was too personal, too filled with pain.
But what had she expected? A cold, unfeeling woman who reveled in her husband's demise?
It would have been easier.
Erik recovered more quickly than she did. "Not quite. I would rather we focus on more present events."
Her expression hardened. "I don't think so."
"Why? Because you have something even more shameful to confess?"
This time her glower was fierce and her demeanor resolved. "No, because I don't have to answer to you."
"Ah, but I think you do. If you allow a man to be tried for your crimes, I do believe you owe him the benefit of a full explanation of your actions."
Christine couldn't take it anymore, and she walked carefully down the steps. She was unprepared for Erik's reproachful glare, but this all felt horribly wrong—as if they were trespassing on secrets they had no business being privy to.
She touched his arm lightly and tried to keep her expression soft and pleading. "Please, Erik. Can't you see that this is private? We shouldn't be hearing this."
He scoffed. "And the search of my home was not an invasion of privacy? The indignity of prison life was not an insult against my person?"
Christine swallowed, not liking to think of the abuses he must have suffered while awaiting trial. "That's not what I'm saying," she offered weakly.
"What you are saying is that knowing the truth doesn't matter. That because they are normal, they should not have to bare their crimes to the world and confess their wrongdoing. They are not like you, Christine, no matter how much you would like to commiserate with their current plight."
She stared at the bound figures again. Mr. Debienne's eyes were beseeching her, and yet to some small degree, Erik was right. This wasn't the way to handle things—not at all, but if Erik had not actually killed Mr. Poligny, that some conspiracy had framed him as the unhappy scapegoat to a nefarious scheme…
Wasn't he right to take some small bit of justice into his own hands?
She sighed, wondering at the influence he seemed to hold over her mind, that so easily her own convictions could waver by his point of view.
"I…"
Ms. Poligny rolled her eyes. "What a pretty picture. The thing has found a girl that will excuse his own evil actions. I suppose there's someone for us all."
Christine flushed, embarrassed at her assessment and the subtle truth to her words.
Why could she not stand up to him fully? Why did she want to think well of him?
She gasped when suddenly Ms. Poligny's chair fell backward, and the woman released a startled cry of her own as she crashed against the floor with a loud bang. The height of the back cushion meant that no real harm came to her, but this time when she looked up at Erik looming above her, it was with trepidation.
"I warned you not to speak of the lady. But perhaps you would prefer to continue the trial in this manner, lying about the floor like a dog rather than with the dignity I have so kindly offered."
Her lips pursed. "You keep us locked in the bathroom and claim to offer us dignity?"
Christine stared at Erik, aghast, but he merely shrugged in that elegant way of his.
"There is water and there are facilities to ensure you do not reek of your own filth. Would you prefer a dark cage of stone? I assure you, I do have those available as well."
And despite herself, Christine thought it a rather generous arrangement in comparison to what it might have been.
She peered down at the woman, trying to be as persuasive as possible. "Please, I'm sure if you just cooperate things will go much better for you. He's not an unreasonable man, really he isn't."
Not exactly true, but not an outright lie either.
His desires were not irrational, but the methods he employed to instigate such results were questionable at best.
Ms. Poligny stared at her, before shaking her head. "How can you defend him?"
Christine sighed. "I was one of the jurors. I saw the evidence they used against him and it was… abominable. I don't think that case ever should have gone to trial in the first place, which meant…" she glanced between the captives, with a new perspective.
"Which probably means that one of you killed Mr. Poligny. And then let Erik sit in jail for what… six months? How could you have done that? You accuse him of being a monster—something less than human, and yet where was your conscience when you allowed an innocent man to suffer for a crime he did not commit?"
Ms. Poligny snorted unbecomingly. "Innocent? Maybe he didn't kill my husband, but he was far from guiltless. He terrorized this place! We lost cast members and staff because of escapades when they were too frightened to return to work! But Edgar…"
Christine stooped and picked up the chair, and with a weary sigh Erik assisted her before taking a step backward and crossing his arms, his disapproval at her interference readily evident in his entire posture.
But still Christine persisted, as she knelt down, hoping to appear less intimidating to the woman before her. "Edgar what?"
"He wouldn't sell! There was a madman sending letters and causing accidents but no matter what happened, Edgar wouldn't even consider leaving this place! And let's not even begin to discuss how it hemorrhaged money every month paying the ghost for his salary—money that rightfully should have gone to other, more important venues."
This time Erik was the one to interject. "Such as financing your preferences for designer handbags? Or perhaps adding yet another tennis court to your monstrosity of a mansion so that you would have an excuse to employ a young and agile professional for lessons?"
Ms. Poligny grimaced. "That was our money. Ours. And if I wanted to use it like that, it was nobody's business but my own. I certainly don't need your judgment for it!"
Christine surprised herself by being the one to remind her of her husband's rights. "Wouldn't Mr. Poligny have had a say? It was his income after all, and if he thought it worth it to give Erik a portion…"
"Oh yes, because I'm just the greedy, money grubbing wife, isn't that right?"
Christine blushed for she had thought that. The age difference, the perfectly manicured nails, the air of detachment…
Not everything was black and white. If she had learned anything throughout the course of the trial—even over the last few days—it was that.
"We all have our reasons for doing things, and to others they may seem petty or… well… wrong," she glanced over at Erik who continued to frown at her, realizing that her words were just as true in regard to him as they were for Ms. Poligny. "But now is the time to explain your side of things. Do you really want him to be the one to tell what happened? Or would you rather try to describe your side of things?"
Ms. Poligny's brow furrowed. "I shouldn't have to justify myself to him, or to you."
Christine gave her a small, sympathetic smile. "Maybe not. But this is the situation we're in, and that doesn't seem to be changing any time soon. So maybe it's better to go along with things, at least for a little while."
Erik stepped forward and took her by the arm, his expression somewhat reproachful. "Is the judge finished interjecting? It's terribly rude to interrupt the prosecution's case, you know."
Christine huffed. "Somehow I don't think you minded very much when Mr. Chagny objected to Mr. Sorelli all the time."
Erik's lips thinned. "That is beside the point."
This time it was her turn to roll her eyes. "Of course it is."
She stepped away from him and instead of returning to her chair, she sat on one of the lower steps before waving as imperiously as she could.
If Erik wanted a judge, then he would have one.
Although he might regret putting her in a place of authority over his own position in their mock court by the time she was finished with it.
"Very well, you may proceed, counselor."
And this time when he looked at her, it was with unmistakable amusement.
"Your honor is not seated properly. That cannot be comfortable for long periods of time."
"Oh for heaven's sake," Ms. Poligny exclaimed, tugging at her bindings once again. "You both are sickening. This whole thing is disgusting!"
Erik's expression darkened and Christine stood just as quickly.
He seemed to want to listen to her—liked when she played along. And if she was the judge then he would have to obey her. At least in this.
"The court will come to order!" she demanded, and everyone stopped and looked at her. She cleared her throat awkwardly, willing her nerves down as she mustered up her courage. She could not stop Erik's schemes, that much was certain. But she could exert what small control she had over the situation as she helped to mediate his disgruntled feelings and ensured that he caused no unnecessary harm.
She could be brave.
"Comments like that have no place here, Ms. Poligny," she insisted, walking back up to her chair and sitting down—feeling both regal and ridiculous at the same time. "Please, just inform the court of what happened with your departed husband."
"You're both mad," she answered, her gaze drifting between Erik and Christine in turn.
Christine merely smiled a little, because she did feel just a little bit insane for participating in this at all. But she comforted herself that her reasoning for doing so was sound—but then didn't crazy people think that whatever they did was perfectly sane?
It was all too confusing.
So instead she turned her attention to Erik. "Perhaps things would proceed more rapidly if you directed the questions. It can be a bit difficult to know where to begin."
And after all, he was the only one who seemed to know what was really going on, so it was only logical that he guided the process to its conclusion.
She only hoped that it ended well for all parties involved.
"Ms. Poligny, how would you classify your relationship with Claude Debienne?"
She cast a hasty glance at the man beside her before resolutely looking away. "He was my husband's business partner. We therefore had an amicable relationship. Christmas parties, the occasional lunch, things like that."
"Ah yes, but as he testified to in court, there were also some meetings in hotel rooms. And he was quick to point out that you frequently asked him about the nature of the notes delivered to the Opera House."
Her eyes widened. "He what?"
She glared at Mr. Debienne, the ferocity in the expression even greater than one she had managed for either Erik or Christine.
"Indeed. But you sound surprised! What did you think he would say on the witness stand?"
Her lips pursed and she said nothing.
"Come now, madam, you may be candid here. You knew he was being called to the stand, so what did you think he was going to say?"
She chuffed out a frustrated breath. "I don't know, that there was a blackmailer in the theatre. That I cared about Edgar—not suggest that I was the one extorting money from my own husband!" She turned to Mr. Debienne. "How could you? I trusted you!"
Erik leaned in closer. "Trusted him to what, madam? To lie for you?"
"What? No!"
"Then why would you care if he implicated you? After all, if there is no evidence of your wrongdoing, you would not currently be looking at him like he had betrayed you in some horrifying manner."
Her head whipped back towards Erik, while Mr. Debienne mumbled behind his gag, his intent to explain himself obvious, yet impossible given the impediment.
"You'll have to wait your turn, Debienne," Erik reminded him. "You are only going to make yourself drool, which is highly unbecoming a man of your stature." He returned his focus to the widow. "Now, Ms. Poligny, perhaps we shall try this again. What is your relationship with this man? I'm only going to ask you this once more and then we'll give him an opportunity to speak. And obviously he has proven himself more than willing to cast you in a rather unflattering light."
She was quiet a moment, obviously contemplating. "What I said is true. He is… was… first and foremost my husband's business partner. But when things got… bad between me and Edgar, he was easy to talk to. Sympathetic. And over time we came to realize that we had some… mutual interests."
Christine couldn't help but lean forward slightly, her interest peaked, while Erik remained as calm and collected as ever. "Mutual interests. Such as… skydiving? Mountain climbing? Cow wrangling?"
She groaned in annoyance. "We both wanted to sell the Opera House, okay? And Edgar didn't want to. Was that so wrong? Claude wanted to retire, and I just… I wanted the chance at a different life. A divorce would have left me with nothing. And I couldn't go back to that. Not again. Not after everything."
An uneasy feeling settled in Christine's stomach as she regarded Mr. Debienne and Ms. Poligny. During the trial she had thought the widow cold and unfeeling, a gold digger if ever there was one. Mr. Debienne had been uncomfortable, his entire posture relating most blatantly that there was more to his story than simply his testimony.
And seeing them now, his eyes beseeching her to remain silent, while she looked so resigned and her tone was so wholly defensive…
It suddenly became abundantly clear that Mr. Debienne was partner to more than one Poligny.
Sooo… Has anyone's feelings for Ms. Poligny changed based on her story? Still think she's guilty? And what about the business partner? Any theories about him? And I don't think they're being as polite in captivity as dear Christine…
Please review!