Over the past months it had become a habit of mine to listen into a room before entering it, in order to determine both the parties and the atmosphere within. It was probably ignoble of me to eavesdrop on conversations, but I hated going into a situation unprepared. Besides, any exchange involving Carlotta was impossible to ignore unless one happened to be deaf.
"Si, go ahead and coddle the little half-mad wench!" the diva was crying as I neared the door. "Look at her, pretending innocence…all the while engineering this whole plot in her mind!" Underneath her diatribe, Ubaldo Piangi could be heard voicing his agreement.
"You know a lot about plotting, don’t you?" I was pleasantly surprised by the vehemence in Christine’s voice; this sorry affair did have the benefit of forcing some strength into the girl’s spine. "You won’t understand, but I’d give anything to avoid this…"
"Nobody’s going to force you to sing," you were saying gently.
This time, I did away with the showmanship that had usually marked my acts as the Phantom’s messenger; my heart was not in the role. I entered the office quietly, taking only a second to view the care-worn faces around me before holding up the note.
Firmin groaned wretchedly. "Well, go on, read it," he said, his hangdog expression putting me in mind of a general who knows he’s outmanned.
Ordinarily, I would have enjoyed Erik’s elegantly worded slights as he succinctly pointed out the defects in the opera management and cast (lingering in particular over the failings of Carlotta and her leading man), but I hadn’t the disposition to appreciate them that day. And when the contents of the letter turned to Christine, my irritation only grew greater.
"Although I have every confidence in Mlle. Daaé’s genius," I read aloud, "it behooves her to remember that her current success is due largely to the devoted study of her voice, which I am sorry to say has been neglected of late. It would be very much to her advantage to see that the situation is rectified as soon as possible." The words were innocent enough, but I did not miss the underlying meaning. Nor did Christine, who blenched from them.
"I can’t," she whispered, her eyes pleading. "Madame, you know I cannot…"
"Yes, I know," I said, looking down on her sadly. She smiled sympathetically at me, but only succeeded in worsening my temper. I found myself angry with a very large portion of my acquaintance: Erik for the attempt to manipulate Christine, Christine for her indecisive reticence, Meg for her acrimonious manner towards me, and myself for having been involved in the whole mess to begin with.
Engaged as we were in mutual commiseration, neither Christine nor I noticed the conversation between the managers and yourself until you spoke up. "No, hear me out…the fiend has some kind of sick obsession with Christine. If we do as he says, and stage this work with her in the lead, he’ll be certain to attend the performance…"
"Yes, I see what you’re getting at," Firmin caught on. "Seal off the auditorium, make sure the gendarmes are present…"
"And we’ll have him!" André concluded.
The three of you were gloating so much over the prospective success of your plan that none of you noticed Christine’s eyes grow wide with shock at your words, nor did you see her turn to me with a desperate, silent plea that couldn’t be mistaken. No, they mustn’t, they’d kill him; do something!
Even if she hadn’t begged so adamantly, I would have spoken up. "Gentlemen, please consider the liabilities involved in this course of action. You are suggesting first that we lock a large throng in the auditorium with—in all likelihood—a person who is both willing and capable of creating widespread panic and disaster if he feels compelled. Then you propose to have armed men in the vicinity of the stage who, should their judgment err, would be just as likely to injure an innocent person as the intended target." And finally, there is the fact that said target is not only able to enter and leave the auditorium without using any known exit, but is most likely listening in on this entire conversation in the first place, I added in my head.
"Nobody asked your opinion!" Firmin snapped.
"Nor did you ask it prior to the performance of Il Muto six months ago, and look what happened then," I replied.
"For God’s sake, why don’t you do something useful! You’re not helping matters any by spreading these dire prophecies." Your eyes narrowed. "Perhaps that is your purpose in issuing them."
"Ah, si!" Carlotta cried, eagerly leaping at the chance to vilify me. "Everybody knows she’s the madman’s accomplice—"
"She means to sabotage us!" Piangi agreed.
"You are mistaken. I represent no aim other than preventing another catastrophe," I said quietly, turning to Firmin, André, and you with contempt. "Do you think it will be so easy, gentlemen—that you can trap him as easily as you would snare a game fowl?" I drew closer to emphasize the point. "Joseph Buquet once believed as you do."
"You seem to have great confidence in his abilities." You spoke as if I had delivered a personal insult to you.
"I speak as I find."
"It would be a disaster anyway," Carlotta said, ostensibly for Piangi’s ears but clearly pitched for the entire room. "The music itself is atrocious, not to mention the weak little thing cast in the lead—"
André patted her hand. "Signora, the Vicomte’s plan will ensure that things will soon return to their normal—"
"No." Christine had been silent for so long I was surprised when she spoke. "Mme. Giry’s right, Raoul, it’s too dangerous," she continued, taking your hand pleadingly. "It’s not worth the risk—"
"Christine, I do this for your sake," you vowed with your lips, but in your eyes I saw a calculating glitter that made me suspicious. "We need your help, darling, if we are to free you—and all of us—from the clutches of that monster—"
"He’s not…No, I simply cannot, don’t you see?" She fled the room, a soft sob marking her exit.
I broke the silence which followed. "I’ll go speak with her."
"No, allow me," you insisted.
I held up my hand. "Monsieur le Vicomte, I believe you have said quite enough already today."
"Disparage me if you will," you snapped, "I’m only concerned with what’s best for the Opera and Christine."
I studied you carefully. "Is that so? Well, you may fool them," I nodded to the remaining occupants of the office, "you might be able to convince Christine and even yourself of it. But not me."
"What do you mean by that?"
"I’ve been in the world a long time, monsieur," I replied with a touch of pity. "Don’t you think I know a jealous heart when I see one?"
I left before you could voice your contradiction, knowing that you believed in your own innocence. But although you wouldn’t have admitted it even to yourself, I was right, wasn’t I? You were jealous of him.
* * * * * * * * * *
Christine was standing on the steps outside the Opera when I found her, gazing sightlessly into the busy street below. "He is determined, isn’t he?" she said when I drew up beside her. "Raoul means to use the performance as a means to trap Erik."
I smiled cynically. "I fear he will not find that so easily accomplished as he believes," I replied. "But yes, it seems that Firmin and André will endorse the idea."
"I expected as much." She sighed heavily. "And Erik intends to have me perform as well, I suppose?"
"I do not pretend to know what end he hopes to accomplish with this course…but that much is clear."
"Yes, it is." The afternoon sun sparkled in her tears. "Dear God, I can’t do this…I can’t fight them both," she wept. "Every night, I pray for a solution that will not end in someone being grieved—or worse—and every morning I wake up to the same dilemma, the same impossible decision…" She turned her sorrowful countenance to me. "What should I do, Madame?"
I was tempted, Lord knows I was. It would have been an easy thing then to say Run, leave Paris with your young man and don’t look back. Don’t worry about Erik, I can manage him. But I could not bring myself to council her in that manner, partly because I knew it wouldn’t truly solve the matter and partly because it would do nothing to achieve my own desires. "You know I cannot take this burden for you," I told her instead. In the meantime…perhaps it would be best to go to the rehearsals and continue as best you can. At the very least, it will minimize the current conflict."
"It is not the current state of affairs that worries me so much as what may emerge from them," she said. "Oh, Mme. Giry, where will it end? What will become of us all?"
"I only wish I had an answer to that."
Go on to Chapter 24
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