Page 89 of Angel's Flight

“No, don’t blame Blanche,” Meg said, panic rising.“She needs this job.She was only there because of me.”

Raoul scoffed, but Moncharmin placed a consoling hand on Meg’s shoulder.“No one will be let go.Mademoiselle Giry simply must apologize now that the situation has been explained.”

“Now, see here—” Raoul began, but Moncharmin raised a hand to silence him.

“No.Monsieur,” the manager cut in, voice dire.“You barge into my opera months after withdrawing your patronage and expect to be treated like you still have a stake in anything that goes on here.You insult my employees and demand their dismissal merely because, through them, the truth came out.Yes, the truth, Monsieur le Comte.You and your sister have other affairs to attend to and you have no rights here.Please leave.”

Raoul glowered at the older man, and Meg decided that whatever anger she had felt for Moncharmin in the past few days would be reduced by at least half now.

“What of my apology?”the Comte asked at last, lip curling.

“I’m sorry,” Meg said.She didn’t mean that she was sorry for anything she had done.She was only sorry she had not done more.

“Fine.It seems this damnable place has sunk even lower since I rid myself of its nonsense,” Raoul said.“Perhaps I shall have to be more watchful.”

“There will be no need,” Moncharmin said firmly.He made no move to assist as the nobleman gathered his hat and gloves before storming out, slamming the door behind him.Meg sank into a chair the moment Raoul was gone, sick with worry and released tension.

“I am sorry, Monsieur,” Meg exhaled.“I know this has caused you great trouble.”

“I’ll survive.I’ve dealt with worse,” Moncharmin said as he slumped towards his chair and collapsed, scrubbing his hand over his face so that he disturbed his glasses.

“Thank you for not firing me,” Meg added.“I don’t know how I’d survive.”

“I don’t fire people on the whim of patrons,” Moncharmin replied, sounding rather proud of himself.

Meg frowned.“What about Julianne Bonet?”

“Who?”Moncharmin asked, squinting.

“Christine Daaé’s old dresser,” Meg reminded him, annoyance growing.

“Yes, of course.I didn’t fire her.I wouldn’t have.”He looked doubtful though.“I think?”

“The patron who demanded it didn’t go through you and from what I hear, you didn’t intervene when it was brought to your attention,” Meg explained.

“I’ve been busy and I was under the impression Mademoiselle Bonet was taken care of or at least independent.Why are you asking?”

“No one has told me the real story of what happened to Christine and the ghost,” Meg said with a sigh.“I thought Julianne might know, so I sought her out through Cécile Jammes, but she’s gone.”

“You mustn’t go snooping into all that,” Moncharmin warned, sounding more tired somehow.“Especially with the Comte paying attention.”

“You don’t want him to know about the new phantom, do you?”Meg asked, finally making the connection.Moncharmin shook his head mournfully.

“No.That would be a disaster.”Moncharmin’s brows knit.“Though it would take some of the pressure off them if he...”

“Who?”Meg asked, sure she had just been party to a thought that should have stayed in Moncharmin’s head.

“Never mind.Anyway, I’m sure Mademoiselle Bonet is fine.She’s resilient.What did you want to talk to me about in regard to your little case?”Moncharmin asked, straightening up.“I’m curious to hear what theories a young dancer has on this case.”

Meg found herself staring at the man, taking in his condescending smile and indulgent look.“Will you really listen to me?”

“Of course, Mademoiselle,” Moncharmin said, the same way a parent might tell a child they wanted to hear their fairy story.

“Shaya believes these attacks and thefts are the work of Monsieur Richard or someone working for him,” Meg began, and Moncharmin gave an encouraging nod.He knew this.“Because the men who have been hurt were against him after the chandelier.”

“Yes, perhaps, though we don’t have a record of that yet.I have been trying to reach out to the others under threat.”

“Well, I was talking to a friend – another dancer,” Meg continued, swallowing uneasily.“She helped me to understand that the men who have been hurt, well, they have all done some hurting themselves.”

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