Chapter XIV: The Unmasking

On the first day back in college after the Christmas holidays, I arrived very early in the morning, determined not to waste a moment in trying to find Erik. I descended the stairs to the basement corridor as fast as I could, hurried to the door of his room and knocked on it loudly. I even called out his name and Christine's, but there was no answer. With a sinking feeling in my stomach, I started thinking that I might have been wrong in trusting Erik, and that something terrible had happened which I could have prevented if I had only acted sooner. I had already waited for the duration of the Christmas break, but now, when I was back in school and Christine was still nowhere to be found, I had a sudden feeling of urgency. I could not lie any longer. If she did not return today, I would have no choice but to go to the police and report her missing. It had gone too far now.

Needless to say, I was more distracted than usual during my lessons that day. I think even M. Ivanovich, who was usually both blind, deaf and confused, could tell that something was wrong with me. Time and time again I reproached myself for having helped Erik, and I felt that I would never forgive myself if it turned out Christine had become the victim of some horrible crime. During the day, I went back to that dreadful corridor time and time again, knocking on the doors and hoping for an answer, but it was useless. Erik and Christine did not return.

After my final lesson of the day was finished at 4 o'clock in the afternoon, I had nearly given up all hope of seeing either of them again. Then, as I went to my locker to get my coat, a small piece of white paper caught my attention. It was taped to the door of my locker, and I hurried to examine it more closely. With a feeling of anxious anticipation, I read my name on it, written in the well-known red ink which was so characteristic of Erik. Opening it, I read only these few words:

"Christine has returned."

That was all the information I needed. Immediately, I ran towards the staircase leading down to the basement, as fast as my legs could carry me. Scarcely had I descended the stairs when I saw the door of Christine's practice room open and my cousin come out. An enormous sense of relief came over me as I went to meet her.

"Christine!" I cried, giving her a violent hug. "Thank God you are all right! I have been so worried about you!"

"Meg", Christine said calmly, "I am glad to see you."

There was something in her manner which made me uneasy. A strange sadness, a distance, a lack of enthusiasm perhaps? I could not quite put my finger on what it was, but it made me fear the worst.

"You are all right, aren't you?" I asked, observing her closely. "Did something... happen?"

Christine looked around her cautiously, then grabbed me firmly by the arm.

"How about some strawberry pie?" she said with forced cheerfulness, dragging me through the corridor and up the stairs.

She didn't say a word until we had left the college and arrived at our usual table in the nearby café. I ordered in some pie and a cup of tea, but Christine only asked for a glass of water. She was visibly upset. Looking me straight in the eye, she asked:

"How much do you really know?"

"About what?" I asked, but realized as soon as I had said it how false my words must sound. She could only possibly mean one thing.

"Everything", Christine said significantly. "Erik."

"I can see that you might be angry with me for not telling you before", I began hastily, "but he wouldn't let me. And you were in such a state at the time, I couldn't bring myself to say anything when you were so desperate to believe in..."

"...in the Angel of Music. You can say it, Meg. I have been so stupid, naive beyond words. Really, I'm just a silly child! To think that I actually believed that there was an angel, that he sent me messages from my dead father. If it has got me into trouble, it's no more than I deserve!"

Christine laughed, a bitter, disillusioned laugh which was very unlike her. But then again, this was not the Christine I had known before. She was changed - some of that child-like innocence had gone.

"Christine", I said gravely, "I will tell you all that I know about Erik, even if it isn't really all that much. But first, I need you to tell me what happened. Did he do anything to you?"

Christine shook her head.

"It's not what he did, it's what I did."

"Tell me."

Christine ran her finger thoughtfully along the side of her water glass, and started talking.

"You remember that I told you about my encounter with the Angel of Music? Well, he continued giving me lessons, and he seemed to know so much about me, that I felt sure that he was no ordinary living person. My voice developed in an amazing way during those months, as you yourself have heard. I never thought that my Angel was anything but a messenger form heaven."

"But what about the Christmas party?" I asked. "Raoul said that you went to buy something to drink and never returned."

"That is true. I did intend to buy some mineral water, but as it happened, I had locked my purse with my other belongings in the practice room. It's the advantage of having a room of one's own, you know? Anyway, as I came into the room, the Angel was there. He sang the most beautiful song to me and asked me to come with him, so that I could experience music in a way I never had before - that's what he said. And it was strange, it was as if his voice took away any doubts I might have had, or any concerns about leaving you all without letting you know what became of me. I trusted my Angel, you see. I was sure that he would protect me and that all would be well."

"So you went with him? Where did you go?"

"The Angel directed me towards a sofa which is in the room. I pushed it aside and found a secret trap door. When I opened it, I could hear that his voice became clearer. He had started singing again - Erik has the most amazing voice! Have you ever heard it?"

I admitted that I had, and that I could quite understand how it would be impossible to resist such a voice.

"I had to climb down a ladder and through another trap door", Christine continued, "and then I was in the dark, surrounded by a sickening smell. It took some time before I realized that I was inside the system of sewers running underneath the city."

"That explains it!" I exclaimed. "The strong scent of the Oriental perfume Erik wears is meant to mask the smell of the sewers! I noted that there was some strange odor beneath the perfume on the day of my first lesson with him. I haven't thought about it since - I must have got used to it. Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt you."

"It was dark", Christine went on, not paying any attention to my remark. "I stumbled on something hard and found a pocket flashlight. Lighting it, I could see that I was in a long tunnel. The Angel's voice beckoned to me and I followed. Whenever I reached a crossroads, I was told which way to go, and so I got further and further away from my practice room. I should have been afraid, but I was not. As I've said, I had full confidence in the Angel of Music. Finally, I reached an open door in the wall. There was a bright light shining out of it. I looked inside, and there he was."

"Erik?"

"Yes, although I didn't know it at the time. I saw only a masked man standing there, looking at me. He was singing, with the voice of my Angel, telling me not to be afraid, reassuring me that he was, indeed, the Angel of Music, but in a different way from what I had imagined. At first I was too shocked to think, then I was afraid of who this man might be and what he wanted with me, and finally I was angry. I was angry with him for having deceived me, but mostly, I was angry with myself for being so gullible. All my life, I had believed in ghosts, fairies and angels. Now I had to pay the price for my superstition."

Christine was quiet for a moment, taking a sip of water. I took a small bite of my strawberry pie, which I had forgotten all about until now. Knowing Erik's methods, I was worried about what Christine might reveal next.

"I tried to run away", she said in a trembling whisper, "but in an instant he was at the door, locking it, and I could see that it was no use trying. Then I asked him who he was and what his intentions were. He told me that his name was Erik, and that his only wish was to hear me sing and help me excel. It was for that purpose that he had led me to his home, he told me. His home! My Angel lived not in heaven, but in the sewers! Suddenly the irony of it all struck me, and I burst out in what must have seemed like a hysterical fit of laughter. I laughed at the two of us and at the whole situation, which would have been ridiculous if I hadn't been so frightened. During all this, Erik said nothing. After a while, I stopped laughing and began crying instead. Sensing that I felt more pain at the loss of my Angel of Music than at the idea of being kidnapped by an unknown man, Erik apologized with absolute sincerity for existing in the flesh, since that was so upsetting to me. It was strange, but there was genuine regret in his voice as he said it."

"He must be a very unhappy man, in that case", I said. "I have suspected that he might be. After all, he seems almost to hide from the rest of the world."

Christine nodded and continued her narrative:

"Erik's apologetic manner gave me a little courage. I tried to tell him that even though his lessons had done wonders for my voice, it was wrong to take advantage of my trust, and certainly there was no excuse for keeping me with him against my will. He answered that he had no intention of doing so, but that at the moment, he wished for us to talk undisturbed. This seemed like such a bad excuse that my anger came back with renewed force. I told him that then, at least, I deserved to know who I was talking with. Then I reached out my hand before he could stop me, and I... oh, God, I wish I hadn't..."

"What did you do, Christine?"

"I tore off his mask."

I sat up in my chair. Erik's mask had been a great mystery to me from the moment I had first seen him, but respect for his authority, and a good deal of fear of the man, had prevented me from trying to reveal its secret.

"What is his face like?" I asked with great curiosity.

Christine shuddered.

"There was no face! That's the horror of it. If only he had had something bearing the least resemblance to a normal face, it wouldn't have been so dreadful. What he had was, I don't know how to describe it, like one big flesh wound. There was no visible skin, only all the disfigured muscles and veins out in the open, like on a rotting corpse. He had almost no nose, and the white bones of his skull shone through in several places. Only his eyes looked alive, and that was the worst part of it. Because in those eyes, I could recognize the character of my Angel of Music, trapped inside that nauseating mass of red flesh which was his face. And he was crying. I couldn't bear to look at him any longer, so I turned away. Erik cursed me, saying that now he couldn't let me go, since I would never return voluntarily now that I had seen his face, then he cursed himself, and at last, he was silent. All I could hear were his sobs of despair. Then I heard footsteps, and when I turned around, he had gone into an adjoining room, which I later learnt was his study. I was left alone to process what I had just seen, and to reflect on my situation."

"Was there no way out?"

"No, he had taken the key to the front door with him, and the only other door was the one through which he had just left. When I looked around, I found myself in a surprisingly large room, lit by numerous candles. The floor was covered with Oriental carpets, and there were some chairs and a mahogany table. Along the walls there was a collection of magnificent paintings and different musical instruments - a violin, a guitar, a number of flutes. In one corner, there was an alcove with a large bed. On examining the bed more closely, I found that there were some women's clothes spread out on it. This turned me cold, because it was evident that they were intended for me, and that Erik had therefore meant for me to stay some time. There was no modern equipment anywhere, no phones, no TV, no computer, in fact, there was probably no electricity at all. It was as if I had been transported a hundred years or more back in time. Suddenly, I heard music from behind the closed door. Erik had started playing the piano - strangely enough, there was a piano in this place! - and was singing, a sad, haunting song which I felt sure was one of his own. He went on singing for a long time, and then everything was quiet. A while later, the door opened and Erik came out, to my surprise carrying a tray of cheese and wine, which he put down on the table next to me. As we both had calmed down by now, I asked him quite coldly how long he intended to keep me as a prisoner. He answered that he would keep me until he was sure that I would sometimes return to him of my own free will, once he let me go. From then on, I knew that my only chance was to be kind to him, to try to convince him that I would not abandon him if he unlocked the front door."

"And today, he let you go?" I asked.

"No", Christine said, "he let me go three days ago. I stayed these last days because I wanted to."

"I don't understand", I said, utterly confused. "He kidnapped you, and you didn't escape when you got the opportunity?"

"During these past few weeks", Christine explained, "we have been singing every day. Erik showed me his compositions, the most amazing pieces I have ever heard. At first, I agreed to sing with him just to humor him, hoping it would make him let me go sooner, but after a while I noticed that the intense study made my voice develop in ways I hadn't thought possible. When we sang together, there were times when I could almost forget the disfigured face behind the mask, and the fact that I was a prisoner. He always served me the very best food and gave me everything I could wish for, and in the evening, he would play his violin for me, just like Father used to when I was a child. Erik was so kind and eager to make me happy, that sometimes it seemed that he was my servant instead of my kidnapper. Not once did he lay a finger on me. He always let me have my privacy and allowed me to bolt his study door from the outside, so I would be sure that he could not approach me while I was sleeping, even though it meant that he himself was locked inside his room during the night. Three days ago, Erik finally unlocked the door for me and said that I was free to go. But at that point, we had just begun working on a new piece of music which he had shown me, and because of that, I decided to stay until I had mastered it. In addition, I didn't want to hurt his feelings by leaving his home immediately, after he had gone to such lengths to make me comfortable there."

"Christine, this is madness! He held you against your will for several weeks, and you still express sympathy for him!"

"He is not the kind of person one hates", Christine answered simply. "If you know him you should know that."

I had to admit to myself that Christine was right. After all, I had protected him for these past three weeks, and kept his secrets for even longer. But I couldn't keep them from Christine anymore. Taking a deep breath, I said:

"You were lucky to get away. Erik may be a genius and an unhappy man, but he is also a murderer. It was he who killed the institution secretary."

Christine stared at me, her eyes wide with horror. She reached out for her drinking glass, but her trembling hand accidentally overturned it, so that the water flowed across the table and down onto the floor.

"You are lying", she said with an unsteady voice, rising from her chair.

She ran out of the café, leaving her handbag behind. I was left with my half-eaten piece of strawberry pie and some very troubling thoughts.