Page 78 of Angel's Flight
“At the culmination of the business with the Phantom, Richard was working in league with Antoine de Martiniac.You know this,” Shaya began, and Moncharmin took a long drink of liquor.“De Martiniac was, like our specter now, lurking about the Opéra in the guise of the ghost for his own ends and as a sort of agent for Richard.He plotted with him, all the while being engaged to the sister of Raoul de Chagny.”
“For her money,” Armand replied.
“Money that Philippe de Chagny only gave the appearance of having, it seems,” Shaya went on, drawing a raised eyebrow from Armand.“Maybe Antoine knew that.I’m not sure, but he was after another fortune as well.One he nearly killed for.”
Shaya didn’t want to get into the complicated details of the scheme, or his part in ending it.Luckily, Armand was following.“A scheme he made promises to Richard about.He was invested in it.”
“Yes.He was owed a debt, first by de Martiniac, and now, by his widow,” Shaya confessed, and Armand’s lips fell open.“Hispregnantwidow.”At this, Armand’s jaw dropped entirely.
“How do you know this?”Armand gasped.
“I had a hunch and I sent an agent of mine to confirm it.Unfortunately, she enlisted the help of someone with no discretion, so I’m sure the rumor is spreading as we speak.”Shaya didn’t like that this was out of his control and might wake a tiger he didn’t want to deal with.“I sent this agent to investigate someone who was spying on me.They were working for Sabine and Richard as well.”
“Sabine de Chagny – or de Martiniac, I guess?– and Firmin Richard have people watching you?Why?”Armand asked.
Finally, Shaya could say to someone what he couldn’t confess to Meg.“They think I will lead them to Erik.It’s he that possesses the money they seek and more.”
“The Opéra’s money, you mean,” Armand scowled.
“I hate that we remain haunted by de Martiniac, even now.”Shaya had dreamed of the man for the past few nights.Of him and Sabine, confronting Shaya for taking the life of her child’s father...Or thanking him.
“At least Adèle got away from him,” Armand said with a smile.“You know, I’ve just had a letter from her!Where did it go?”Armand jumped from his seat and rushed towards an untidy pile of correspondence.“Here we are!”
He fished out a letter from the stack and opened it.Shaya watched in interest as the man pulled out the letter and another sealed envelope, marked with handwriting Shaya would recognize anywhere.“What is that?”Shaya asked breathlessly.
“It’s addressed to you,” Armand whispered, eyes darting between the letter and the unopened envelope.“Oh my god, she’s – she’s found them.”
Shaya snatched the letter from Armand, hands shaking as he looked over the scrawled address: For Shaya Motlagh, care of friends.
“Erik and Christine both?”Shaya asked, amazed.“Where?”
“She’s in London, at Covent Garden,” Armand said aloud as he read his letter.“They found her there.What does yours say?It’s from him, is it not?”
Shaya broke the seal of the letter, at last, breath shallow as he did.This meant that at least they were alive and safe, something he had not been able to admit he feared wasn’t true until now.Slowly, he read.
Dearest Daroga,
I hope that this letter reaches you in good health, thanks to the help of our heroic Madame Valerius.Encountering her here in London has been a blessing, and a surprise, as is our presence in this city.We came here from Florence by way of Lucca with the assistance of friends – and evading the pursuit of enemies.It seems someone is intent on claiming the de Martiniac inheritance I recently came into and has sent agents across the continent to do so.They found us through Monsieur Tissot in Geneva.This is why I have been remiss in replying to you, as they held onto your letter to him with these ridiculous suspicions of me returning to my old haunts, as they say.
I’m appalled you would ever think I would return without alerting you first, if only because doing so would make you have the seasick expression on your face you think makes you look irate and intimidating – the one you’re probably making now.I would not miss that expression for the world.
No, I am not engaged in any new activities at the Opéra, as I am too busy trying and failing to find some peace outside of Paris.Perhaps London will offer some, but at least it offers some familiar faces.
I confess that I miss your face, Daroga, and your usefulness.I think you would be of immense help in enlightening me as to who is after us and why.These methods hardly match those of the young Comte, but I cannot count him out.The man who found me goes by the name Bidaut and may have found himself slightly stabbed in the alleyways of Geneva (don’t look at me like that, Daroga, I was defending myself and my wife.Christine has been very dutiful in her punishments for that transgression).If you could find out if he lived and who he worked for, it would be quite a boon.I’m sure you’re bored and need entertainment.I can’t imagine this imposter ghost is as interesting as the real thing.
Finally, I apologize for the redundancy of this letter.I don’t trust the mail at this point, so this is, indeed, the second letter of the same contents I have sent you.If you have already received the first, I hope reading this one made you doubt your sanity.
Please reply only to Adèle and with as much secrecy as possible.
I remain, as ever, your obedient servant.
-E.
Shaya read and reread the letter, connecting pieces in his mind, his anxiety and guilt rising.
“What is it?You’ve gone rather ashen!”Armand asked, peering at the letter over Shaya’s shoulder.
“Erik was found, as I suspected he might have been, but he fled,” Shaya replied.“Unfortunately, I think he will be found again.The men who have been watching me – they’ve been getting into my mail somehow.”
