Chapter X: The Angel of Music
After the crowd around Christine had dispersed, she threw a quick glance in every direction to make sure that nobody saw her. I had hidden behind a corner so I would be able to watch her without her knowing it, determined as I was to finally learn the truth about her mysterious "angel".
Christine moved rapidly and decisively towards the stairs leading down to the basement. I followed her quietly at a safe distance. I saw her descending the stairs and walking along that dark and gloomy corridor until she reached her practice room. She opened the door with the key I had been instructed to give her, and went inside. The door closed behind her and I went up to it, cautiously leaning towards it to pick up any sound from the room. Before very long, I heard Christine's voice:
"Angel?" she said, her voice that of an obedient child. "I have come, as you requested."
At first, nothing happened. I thought that there might have been some misunderstanding and there would be no lesson, or maybe Christine was really delusional and hearing voices nobody else could hear.
"Angel?" Christine pleaded again.
A few seconds of silence, then a voice replied:
"You did well tonight, my child!"
The voice was resonating powerfully from inside the room. It was undoubtedly Erik's voice, even though there was a tone in it now I had never heard him use during our lessons, except for that one time when he sang the Schubert piece.
"Your singing soared all the way up to the angels in Heaven", Erik continued. "But we have a lot of work to do yet, if you are to triumph!"
"I will do anything!" Christine exclaimed, almost extatically.
"I am glad to hear it", said Erik. "Such devotion is necessary for a true artist. In order to create great music, great effort is required, and sometimes, even, great sacrifices. Nothing must disturb your dedication to music!"
"Nothing does, I promise!" Christine said. "Learning to sing is the only thing that matters to me, the only goal I have! It is what keeps me alive."
"I hope you are telling the truth, my child", Erik's voice continued, "for only those who are fully dedicated can hear the Angel of Music!"
There was a slight coldness in his voice now, and this didn't pass unnoticed by Christine.
"Angel, I would never lie to you!" she protested, and I could tell by her voice that she was near tears.
"What of the young man with whom you spoke tonight?" inquired Erik. "Does he not distract you from your art?"
"No!" Christine said. "He is just an old childhood friend who came to congratulate me. I have already told you I have no interest in dating."
Erik seemed satisfied by this reply. He said:
"That is good, because a great deal of practice lies ahead of you. But not tonight. Tonight, you should feel proud of yourself for what you have achieved. Go home and rest, you must be very tired!"
"I would very much like to hear just one song", Christine pleaded, like a child asking for a bedtime story.
Erik didn't answer her, but instead started singing. Again, I was amazed at how extraordinary a singing voice he had. It was even more entrancing now than when I had heard him sing during our lesson, and I could easily imagine that if there were angels, this would be what they sounded like. It was no wonder that Christine, with her vivid imagination and belief in the supernatural, had mistaken him for a celestial being. The only thing I couldn't understand was where Erik was hiding. It was clear from the sound that he was inside Christine's room, but she could obviously not see him, or she would have known him to be human. There must be some kind of secret space inside the room, I guessed.
The sounds Erik produced were not like anything I had ever heard. I suspected this was one of his own compositions, but it was not frightening or full of despair like the piano piece I had overheard him working on a few months earlier, but rather soft, alluring and full of restrained passion. It was seductive, to the point of almost being physically arousing. I had the feeling that I was eavesdropping on something very intimate, something that was meant only for Christine. And at that moment I understood exactly why Erik had transformed himself into her Angel of Music. There was no mistaking the expression of love in his voice.
I was completely confused by this sudden realization. It was the only explanation that made sense, and still it left so many questions unanswered. When had it all begun? Had Erik been planning this ever since he gave me that key to deliver to Christine? How did he even know who she was, and what her secret dreams were? Then it came to me: he knew because I had told him. I had made it possible for him to impersonate Christine's angel.
Or had I? I though about the possibility for a while, and remembered that Christine and I had talked about her father and the Angel of Music on the day she auditioned for music college. Suppose Erik had been there? If so, maybe that was the real reason why he had chosen to have me as a student - so I could provide him with information about Christine! No, it couldn't be... I told myself I was getting carried away by all these far-fetched theories. After all, if he wanted to be close to Christine, why didn't he just approach her in person?
The music had stopped. There was a sound of someone moving inside the room, and then I heard steps approaching the door. I hurried to the end of the dark corridor, hoping that nobody would notice me. A moment later, the door opened and Christine appeared. She turned around, closed the door behind her and moved towards the staircase. When she was gone, I stood for a moment in silence, trying to process what I had just witnessed. My thoughts were interrupted by a soft click. I looked up - the door of the practice room was ajar. Had Christine not locked it properly? An irresistible curiosity came over me. My knees trembling, I approached the door, slowly and cautiously.
To my surprise, the room was empty. A few bookshelves, some large cardboard boxes filled with files, a piano, a chair, a music stand and an old sofa, that was all. There was nowhere a tall person like Erik could possibly hide. I looked around, trying to see if there was another way out of the room, but the walls seemed solid. Impossible! Only a few minutes ago, I had heard Erik singing in this room. Where was he now? And did he know I was here?
"Hello?" I said awkwardly.
No answer. Feeling rather stupid, I bent down to examine the floor. A quick glance didn't reveal anything. I felt the cool linoleum with my fingers, and discovered nothing. It seemed a perfectly ordinary floor. Finally, I tried sticking my hand underneath the sofa. There, suddenly, I felt a small crack. I traced it with my fingertips and found it formed a rather large square. A trapdoor!
My heart pounding with excitement, I leaned against the sofa for a while. I debated with myself whether to leave now or continue exploring the trapdoor to find out where it went. Reason and intuition told me I should probably go, but something else in me held me back. Before I could make up my mind, I was startled by a soft sound. It was Erik - he had started singing again, no, not singing, humming. What sounded like a lullaby now filled the room. I tried calling out to him, but he just went on humming. His voice made it hard for me to concentrate. I temporarily forgot about the trapdoor and let my mind be filled with this beautiful, reassuring tune. Surely, I could lie down on the sofa for a while and just listen to this music? It must be late by now, and I hadn't realized before how sleepy I was. Perhaps a short nap wouldn't hurt.
Half asleep already, I lay down on the sofa. Immediately, I felt a sharp pain in my cheek and I sat up with a cry, at once wide awake again. Something had pricked me. Looking down to see what it was, I discovered an earring which had been lying where I had tried to rest my head. I picked it up, and had little difficulty recognizing it. It was an unusual earring in the shape of a horse shoe. On the first day of the semester, I had seen Mme Martin, the institution secretary, wearing a pair just like it. Now she was dead. And it was here, in this corridor, that she had had her fatal accident...
A wave of terror came over me. In my mind, I could picture exactly what might have happened that morning, because the same thing was happening to me now. Mme Martin had entered the room, this room, not the one where she was later found, looking for some papers in the bookshelf. She had lost her earring in the process. Bending down to search for it, she had by a mere chance discovered the trapdoor, which was not on any official map of the college. Maybe she had even managed to open it before she heard the lullaby. Then, hypnotized by Erik's singing, she had fallen asleep and that had sealed her fate.
I rose instantly and hurried for the door, but it was too late. Before I could reach it, Erik's tall, dark figure was standing in front of me, mercilessly blocking my one escape route.
