Chapter XV: About Negotiation and Counterpoint
I suspect that Christine was very upset with me for telling her what I knew about Erik's crime, at least her avoidance of me the following days seemed to suggest something of the kind. Nevertheless, I could tell that despite her accusation that I was lying, my words had had some impact on her. She didn't go near the basement corridor anymore if she could help it, and I don't think she set foot in her practice room for some time after our conversation in the café. My assumptions were confirmed a week later when I received a new note in red ink, taped to my locker, as was Erik's custom. It read:
"Dear Meg,
Christine has not arrived for her lessons lately. I am worrying that she may neglect her studies, and frankly, I have the same concern about you. I trust that you will help set my mind at ease on both accounts."
It was true that I had not shown up for my music theory lessons lately, since I was simply too afraid of Erik after everything that I had found out about him. He had not let my absence go unnoticed. But there was more - there was yet another demand from him. Erik was no fool. He knew that if Christine had not been opposed to singing for him when they had last met, the only reason she could be so now was that she had spoken to me and I had said something to frighten her. Therefore, Erik evidently considered it my responsibility to set matters right again and convince Christine to come back to him. What could I do? If I spoke to Christine on Erik's behalf, I would surely lead her into danger again, and if I did not, I would be jeopardizing my own safety. After hearing Christine's story, I had been struck again by the extent of Erik's insanity. He was an eccentric, a murderer, a kidnapper and seemed to have an unhealthy obsession with my cousin. I couldn't help but wonder how many other people, besides me, he had used to his own ends. How many people in the college were living under his threats? How many character flaws could be justified by a brilliant mind and an unfortunate disfigurement?
I decided to go to his room to plead with him, to tell him that I would not interfere with his plans, whatever they might be, but that I wanted no active part in them. If I was lucky, maybe he would let me get away with that.
As always, I was uneasy when I walked down the corridor to Erik's room. I could hear from a distance that he was there, since there was a faint sound of piano music accompanying a breathtaking tenor voice in what sounded like an opera aria, but not one that I recognized. When I approached the door, the music stopped and Erik's voice called out authoritatively:
"Enter, Meg Giry! I have been waiting for you."
I opened the door, my knees feeling a little week. In my right hand, I still held Erik's note, crumpled and moist with sweat. Straightening it out nervously, I addressed him, trying not to look at his white mask, which was nearly impossible now that I knew what it concealed:
"I saw your note..."
"As you have noticed, I am a man of my word. I promised you that Christine would come back unharmed, and she has. All I ask for in return is that you keep your promise to me. There, I have reason to believe that you have failed."
There was a cool courteousness in his voice. Involuntarily, I took a step backwards, closer to the door.
"You have told her something to make her fear me", said Erik. "Now, you must correct your mistake. What did you say?"
"I... I told her about Mme Martin's death", I said, realizing that there was no point in lying. "I am sorry."
"And did she believe you?"
"I don't know", I replied honestly. "I think she doesn't want to."
"Then there is still hope", Erik sighed. "Tell Christine that you were mistaken, that you jumped to erroneous conclusions. She mustn't interrupt her voice studies over such a trifle."
"I can't!" I said, my voice starting to tremble uncontrollably. "Please don't make me do that! She is my cousin and I would never forgive myself if something were to happen to her."
"Does that mean that you do not trust me?" Erik inquired. "What reason have I given you for this?"
"I just feel guilty because of all the people I have been forced to lie to, and I don't think I can keep it up any longer", I said, carefully avoiding to answer his question directly. "I won't go to the police, but please, don't ask me to help you again."
"You wash your hands", Erik concluded, with an amused smile. "Whatever happens, Meg Giry will not be to blame. Very well, I will not ask any more favors of you. I have other methods."
"And you will not hurt me or Christine, or anyone else?"
"I assure you, I have always acted in Christine's best interests and will continue to do so. As for you, it would be best if you could put the whole matter out of your mind and not worry about it anymore, since you say you cannot help me. You will be safe, on one condition: If Christine decides to come to me for lessons again voluntarily, you will not stop her."
I agreed to this with some hesitation. After all, Christine was an adult and whatever decision she made now, she would make with her eyes open and fully aware of the risks. It was not my responsibility. At the time, it felt as if I had won a victory against Erik, since I had been released from my "duties" to him. It was only later that I realized that nothing had, in fact, changed. I was still bound by my promise not to interfere with Erik's plans, and if I didn't play any part in them, it was simply because he no longer needed me. He had other methods - he had said so himself.
"Well then", Erik said after I had accepted his conditions, "that seals it. Now I think a lesson in music theory is long overdue. Do you remember what I said before about double counterpoint?"
I admitted that I did not. It was, in fact, the furthest thing from my mind.
"Double counterpoint occurs when you have two independent voices which together form an acceptable whole, with the correct treatment of consonances and dissonances, and when one of the voices can be transposed a certain interval and still fit together with the second voice. Simply put, this enables different voices to trade places with each other, which is the basis of many fugues, for instance."
Not having expected a proper lesson, I hadn't brought my notebook. Ironically, I ended up scribbling down all this information of the back of the note Erik had written to me earlier. It seemed very strange that he had once again taken on the role of my professor, after all that had happened, but I played along with it, since it was obviously his way of stating that everything was to be forgiven and forgotten. I didn't dare to argue with that, and so we went on having what would to the casual observer seem like a perfectly normal lesson in basic counterpoint.
"Your first task", continued Erik, "will be to write a small exercise in double counterpoint at the octave. This means that you must be able to transpose the lower of your two parts up an octave, so that it ends up above the other one. You may use unisons, octaves, thirds and sixths as consonances, but not the fifth, as it inverts in the fourth which is considered a dissonance. Also, you should study these inventions by Bach."
He handed me an old volume of piano music by J. S. Bach, although I could hardly make out the composer's name from the letters on the front page as it was a Russian edition, and directed me to the pages containing the music in question. Saying that I could borrow the music until I managed to get a copy of my own, Erik concluded his lesson by wishing me good luck with my assignment.
I was almost out of the room when Erik's voice stopped me.
"Do not go just yet, Meg, I have something for you."
I turned around. Erik took out a small envelope from a drawer and handed it to me.
"It is a small compensation for the help you have given me", he explained.
"Thank you, but I do not need any money for having helped you", I said, awkwardly. I had the uncomfortable feeling of being bribed.
"Then consider it a reward for academic achievements", said Erik. "Besides, it is no money."
I opened the envelope. It contained something much more valuable than money. In it was a ticket to a performance with possibly the most renowned dancer and choreographer in Europe, La Sorelli. She was on a tour and was to perform in my home town only once, and the expensive tickets had been sold out for months. Before my injury prevented me from dancing ever again, Sorelli had been a great role model to me, and I had been positively spellbound as a child when watching her dance in several ballets which had been broadcast on TV. Her style, her technique, her grace, her innovative choreography, all those things had inspired me to develop my own dancing further and to aim for a career in the profession. How Erik could have known of all this was beyond me, but it must have taken him some trouble to find out, not to mention how difficult it must have been to get hold of the ticket. I was quite touched by this gesture, even though my excitement at seeing the performance was mixed with a feeling of bitterness at the thought that I myself would probably never dance again. As I looked up to meet Erik's gaze, I saw that he understood all this - not only did he understand, but he sympathized. I couldn't help but wonder what joys he himself had been deprived of in his life, what doors had been closed in front of him, because of his own physical imperfection.
