Chapter Eight
The Angel Of Music: Richard's Great Disturbance
The next day, the managers entered the theater. Two men
were waiting for them. They were reporters for the newspaper. Firmin
and Andre both knew that the reporters were not there to talk about
the new opera. The two tried to make their way around the reporters,
but no luck.
"Monsieur Moncharmin and Firmin. We were wondering if we could ask
you a few question," asked one of the reporters. Firmin looked at Andre
for help.
"Monsieur Firmin will be glad to answer all your questions
gentlemen," said Andre. Firmin stared at Andre in shock.
"Andre!" shouted Firmin.
"Sorry Richard, I'm not getting involved in any more of these
scandals. You handle the press." Firmin scowled as he saw his partner
make his way to the office. He then forced a smile.
"What is it you want to know?" Firmin asked stiffly.
"Well, there was a ruckus yesterday in a local restaurant called the
Golden Pond."
"Yes, I've heard about that restaurant, but what does it have to do
with me?" asked Firmin.
"I was just getting to that. There were some witnesses to the fight
who could give a clear description of one of the brutes," said the other
reporter." Firmin began to sweat. He took off his gloves and placed them
in his hat.
"Really, what was the description like?" asked Firmin nervously.
"At first the man wore a white mask. But after some drunks attacked
his friend, he tore it off, revealing the most disturbing, hideous face
you have ever seen." Firmin began to tremble. He took out his
handkerchief and wiped the perspiration from his forehead. " And this
sounds a lot like the description of your so called Phantom." Firmin let
out a loud nervous laugh.
"That's nonsense! Everyone knows that there's no such thing as the
Phantom!" Firmin began to walk away. The two men stopped him.
"Monsieur Firmin, you seem unusually nervous. Are you hiding
something from us?" Firmin now was shaking.
"No messieurs! I'm just under a lot of pressure!" Once again Firmin
tried to walk away, the two men stopped him. Then a note fell out of
Firmin's coat pocket. One of the reporters picked it up.
"What's this?" he asked. Firmin tried to grab it from him, but the
reporter held it away.
"That note does not concern you! Give it back at once!" shouted
Firmin. The reporter opened the note and read it.
'Dear Richard Firmin,
I appreciate you giving me the directions to the Golden Pond, but the night
proved disastrous, William was attacked by drunks. I unfortunately removed
my mask in the restaurant. Many people saw it. I know that snoopy reporters
will come, so I'm warning you ahead of time. If you tell anyone, even Andre,
that it was in fact me at the restaurant, I will have no choice but to put
together a Punjab Lasso and strangle you until all of your body heat has
disappeared. Let's just put it this way Firmin, I will kill you. You
have been warned.
O.G
The reporters stared at each other. When they looked at Firmin,
they saw him curled up on the floor, his eyes full of terror. He then
looked up at the reporters and got up. Firmin snatched the note from the
reporter's hand.
"Are you happy now? You have gotten the information you came for. You
had better be happy, because it has cost me my life," Firmin said
bitterly. He then stormed off.
"I don't think we should print this," the reporter said to his partner.
"Don't worry, this whole thing is hoax. I'm not going to lose my
salary to some joke." The two left the theater. Firmin dashed into
the office and locked the door behind him. Andre looked up at his
partner.
"How did it go Richard?" Andre asked with a smile on his face. Firmin
stared at Andre with a mixture of fear and anger. Andre's smile faded. "
What happened?" Firmin began to pace back and forth.
"It was bound to happen, I saw it coming!" cried Firmin. Andre got up.
"Richard, would you please explain to me what happened?" Firmin
continued to pace.
"It's over! It's all over!" Firmin looked up. " Why don't you just
end it now?" Firmin shrieked. Andre grabbed his friend and pinned him to
the wall. Firmin began to cry.
"Richard Firmin! Will you calm down?" Andre roared. Andre released
his grip and Firmin slid to the floor. The old manager kneeled down and
placed his hand on his partner's shoulder. " Now Richard, I beseech you.
Tell me what is troubling you."
Firmin didn't answer at first, but soon regained his sanity. He took a
deep breath so that he could speak clearly.
"I guess it doesn't matter that I tell you now," sobbed Firmin. He
reached into his pocket and took out the note. Andre retrieved the note
from Firmin's hand and began to read it.
"My God, don't tell me that you told them!" cried Andre. Firmin shook
his head.
"No, they found the note and read it," Firmin answered softly. He
then looked up at Andre. " You see Andre, I was right. My life was going
to end soon."
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Down in the lair, William woke up in his brother's armchair. He turned
around and saw his brother looking over their opera. The young brother
got up and immediately lost his balance. The Phantom got up and rushed
over to his brother's aid. He helped get his younger sibling back on his feet.
"Are you alright William?" asked the Phantom.
"My head hurts a little. What happened last night?"
"I'll tell you later when you're feeling better." William got back
in the armchair.
"I feel fine Erik. In fact, I think I'll go up and see what the
managers are up to." William got up, this time maintaining his
balance.
"I'd better come with you. We don't want to have any more disasters."
The two brothers left the lair and headed to a spot that was directly
above the managers' office. The two observed through a small hole.
Firmin was curled up in his chair and Andre stood by the desk.
"Richard, you should have told me ahead of time!" shouted Andre.
"I was too terrified to deceive him! " cried Firmin. " You know how
I'm easily frightened!"
"If you had told me, I would have talked to those reporters. They
never would have found out," Andre explained calmly.
"If I had been able to think more clearly, I would have done just
that." The two brothers stared at each other.
"What are they talking about? What's troubling Monsieur Firmin?"
asked William softly. The Phantom glared at Firmin.
"It does not concern you. Richard and I shall discuss this problem at
another time," answered the Phantom. The two looked down again.
"Now don't panic Richard," said Andre.
"Too late," whimpered Firmin.
"Nothing will happen to you. I'm sure the Opera Ghost is forgiving.
After all, it wasn't your fault. The note fell out." Firmin looked up
and smiled at his partner.
"Do you really think so Andre?"
"Of course! Now come along Richard. We have a theater to run." Firmin
walked over to his partner and the two left the office. William stared
at his brother.
"What was all that about, Erik?" asked William.
"This is between me and Monsieur Firmin, William. I pray that you
won't interfere."
"Erik!" shrieked William. " You're planning on killing him!" The
Phantom looked away.
"I'm going to make it look like suicide," said the Phantom.
"Haven't you spilled enough blood already?" barked William.
"It's between me and Firmin. William, promise me you won't get
involved. I don't want you getting blamed for Richard's death."
"I can't believe you! After what happened to Josh and Joseph. Who's
next, one of the ballet girls? Maybe Christine Daae?" snarled William.
The Phantom grabbed his brother by the throat and stared at him furiously.
"William. I'm not asking you, I'm ordering you to return to the lair.
Now go!" He released his grip and the younger brother scurried off. The
Phantom made his way to Box-Five. When he arrived he looked down. The
two managers were discussing how the stage should look for the next opera.
"I think we should place the throne right here. What do you think
Richard?" asked Andre. Firmin walked over to the spot and looked around.
He nodded his agreement.
"Looks like a good place for it," answered Firmin.
'Monsieur Moncharmin, leave, leave the widower alone in the theater,'
the Phantom hissed in his mind. Andre reached into his pocket.
"Oh, I appear to have left the agenda for today in the office. We'd
better go back and get it." As Andre turned around to leave, Firmin
dashed over and grabbed his arm.
"Andre! Please! I really don't want to go back to the office. The
Phantom might be there!" cried Firmin. Andre smiled warmly at his
partner.
"Then you can stay here Richard. I'll go get it." Firmin nodded.
"Thank you Andre." The old manager left the theater.
The Phantom, seeing his chance, leaped out of the box, and started to
climb down the curtain. Firmin was completely unaware that the Phantom
was slowly creeping up on him. When the Opera Ghost was close enough, he
grabbed onto Firmin's neck and slowly began to tighten his grip. The
petrified manager shook violently and tried to pry the cold, bony
fingers off his neck. The Phantom soon stopped tightening his grip.
"Don't fear for your life just yet widower. I'm not in the killing
mood tonight. But don't get your hopes up, you won't live to see your
forties," the Phantom hissed in Firmin's ear. He then threw the manager
across the stage and dashed off.
Firmin didn't want to take any more chances. He hurried out of the
theater and didn't stop until he was with his partner again. He
explained to Andre about what had just happened between him and the
ghost. Andre shook his head.
"This is very bad. The Phantom is not as forgiving as I thought he
was," said Andre. Firmin trembled with terror.
"What are we going to do Andre?" cried Firmin. " What are we going to do?"
"I'm not sure Richard. The Opera Ghost has led us to a couple of sold
out performances, but he has also taken a few lives." Firmin nodded his
head, still shaking.
"I'm afraid we have no choice my friend. We're going to have to have
to remove this ghost from the theater."
"The advertisement?" asked Firmin. Andre nodded .
The two managers walked off to continue their work. Only neither one of
them left each other's side for the rest of the rest of the day.
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