"Oui, je le sais (I know it)," I sighed, and then added, "If it will make you feel better, I'll see about finding another job starting Monday. I can always do as M. Buquet suggested earlier last week and spend my lunch hour this week filling out job applications."
For the first time that morning, her face lit
up as she said, "Would you do that for me, cherie? I would feel so
much better if you would find work elsewhere. I never did like that
place, you know. It wasn't the building that I didn't like but the
people that work there--that place has a reputation for chewing up people!
Do you know how many managers have worked there in the past thirty years?
Over forty, if the gossip columns in the newspapers are to be believed.
And that's just the managers! That doesn't include the music directors
and the performers. Non, cherie--I don't want to see you end up like
those people with your life ruined!"
"But what about my share of the rent?" I asked.
"Let Yves and I worry about that. In
the meantime, see what you can do, eh?"
I could only nod my head in agreement as I left the apartment. I don't know how she does it but Mme. Fontaine always gets me to do things I really don't want to do, like quitting the opera house. But, she's right, though--I don't know how much longer I can stand working there with Carlotta around. Eventually, one of us is going to have to leave. This situation between us just can't go on like it's been doing--one of us will have to go!
When I got to the opera house, Andre greeted me but did not seem to be his usual cheerful self. "Bonjour, Roberta. You look happy this morning," he said as he opened the door for me.
Trying to act more up-beat than I felt, I replied, "Bonjour, Andre. Is there any reason why I shouldn't be?"
Andre shrugged, and then said, "I don't want to ruin your good mood, but did you know she's back?"
Since there was little doubt as to who she was, I replied as nonchalantly as I could, "I didn't know Carlotta was coming back."
Andre snorted in disgust and said disdainfully,
"Neither did the rest of us!"
"Is she here now?" I asked, half-afraid that
she would come upon us at any moment.
Andre, seeing the look on my face, shook his head and said, "She's not supposed to be coming in until this evening's performance. I know that the show has to go on, but why does it have to go on with her? She's nothing but a pain-in-the-ass, if you ask me! We could do just fine without her but the managers won't admit that!"
I just shrugged my shoulders but said nothing more as I went downstairs to the workroom. When I got there, everyone was just as gloomy as Andre had been. "I suppose you've heard the "good" news--La Carlotta's back!" Michel grumbled as he went through the rack of costumes, checking each costume to make sure all were in order.
Just as I began to put my things down on my worktable, Jean-Baptiste came into the room and closed the door behind him. He got everyone's attention by clearing his throat, and after a brief moment's pause, he said, "I'm sure you all know by now that Carlotta's back and will be singing for tonight's performance." He paused and looked around the room and for a moment, none of us four in the room said anything. Then Michel started to say something about the unfairness of the situation, when Jean-Baptiste cut him off by saying, "I know that no one expected this but there's nothing we can do for the moment. Roberta, would you come with me please? Mme. Giry wants to talk with you."
I swallowed hard and meekly nodded my head as Jean-Baptiste and I left the room. I heard Michel say something unrepeatable under his breath as I passed him on my way out of the room and on the way up to the managers' office, I could only shake my head. Jean-Baptiste noticed this immediately because he asked a little sharply, "What's wrong now?"
Trying to control my feelings of anger and frustration, I exclaimed, "I knew this was too good to last! Jean-Baptiste, you know this can't go on much longer--there's all but open warfare between Carlotta and myself, and that's not good for the company! So--which one of us gets the ax?"
"You misunderstand Mme. Giry. She doesn't want to fire either one of you. She only wants to re-negotiate your work hours here, that's all. Look, I know you don't believe me, and after what you've gone through this week, I don't blame you. She called me into the office this morning and told me that Carlotta called after we left yesterday, and threatened to sue the company and its owners, and the management as well, if she wasn't given her job back. Of course, with her connections, she could have made things very uncomfortable for everyone concerned. Knowing that, Giry and Hauptmann had no choice but give in to her demands," Jean-Baptiste explained as we reached the managers' office.
"But what about me? Surely, Mme. Giry knows how Carlotta feels about me working here!" I exclaimed softly as we came to the office door.
Just then, Mme. Giry opened the door and said, "Ah, good! You're both here! This meeting won't take long. Come in, both of you, and sit down." I looked at Jean-Baptiste as we entered the room, for this was uncharacteristic of Mme. Giry, who was known for her buisiness-like, almost cold demeanor. As we sat down on the chairs in front of her desk, she sat down as well, and then said, "I know that this little meeting may surprise you a little and I apologize for calling it so suddenly. I'm sure you know by now that Carlotta's back." I nodded my head and she continued by asking, "That doesn't surprise you or disturb you in any way?"
I shook my head and said, with a note of disgust in my voice, "Unfortunately, I'm not surprised at all. Carlotta is like a bad penny--always turning up. Non, Mme. Giry, I'm not surprised one bit with her return or her threats. I'm just concerned as to how this is going to work out with her and I both being here. I've tried very hard to stay out of her way but I still can't seem to avoid having conflicts with her."
"That's why I called this meeting. I, too, want to avoid having any more trouble with her. I was wondering if you would be willing to come in an hour earlier--say at six, and stay until she gets here, which is usually around ten in the morning. You could leave then and return after she leaves which is usually about five in the afternoon, and then stay until nine. That would still give you an eight hour day and give us all much needed peace," she replied.
This is my last chance to save my job, isn't it? I thought to myself. After a brief moment, I asked, "Do you think this idea of yours will work--later hours for me but peace here at the opera house?"
"I surely hope so, madame. Buquet tells me that you've been a great help to him and he has put in his recommendation that you be his successor. He's shown me examples of your work and I think...well, if this plan works as we all hope it will, we will certainly consider his recommendation when he retires next month. Let's give this a try and see what happens," Mme. Giry said as she stood up from her desk to shake hands with me.
We shook hands and then, Jean-Baptiste and I left his office to go downstairs. As we descended the several flights of stairs to go down to the workroom, he said, "Giry was right--you don't seem surprised at all with Carlotta's return."
"I'm not," I replied, deliberately keeping my voice flat in order to keep from screaming out my frustration at the situation.
He said nothing until we reached the workroom, when he asked, "Why not?"
"Why not, what? Oh, you mean about Carlotta? Let's just say that I had a feeling that we hadn't seen the last of her," I replied as we entered the workroom. Erik, the things I do to protect you! I thought to myself as I joined in the work of checking the costumes.
After we finished checking the costumes to make sure all would be ready for that evening's performance, we all went to Jean-Baptiste's offfice where Michel said, "Everything looks OK for tonight. Do you want us back at the usual time?"
"Everyone but Roberta," he replied as he laid the paperwork for the costumes and props down on the desk.
"What? You're giving her the night off? Why? We need her here!" Michel exclaimed.
"I have to keep the peace somehow, mon vieux," Jean-Baptiste replied sadly, and then, turning to me, he added, "I hope you understand, Roberta."
Trying not to show my disappointment, for I think by then Jean-Baptiste knew how much I enjoyed every evening's performance, I shrugged and said, as I went to get my things, "I suppose it doesn't really matter. At any rate, I'll see you all on Monday."
As I turned to leave the room, Jean-Baptiste said, "Thank you for cooperating with Giry. I know it's hard, but, cheer up--Carlotta can't play her games forever."
I snorted and then said sardonically, "I'll believe that when I see it!"
The rest of the month of February passed quietly and it looked as though Mme. Giry's plan just might work after all, for in spite of my crazy hours, there was peace in the opera house. I told Erik about Mme. Giry's plan to change my schedule about a week later, and he agreed with her plan, saying, "The less you see of Carlotta, the better. Buquet is right, though--Carlotta can't play her games much longer. If she keeps this up, she'll be forced to leave the Paris Opera Company, too."
"Is that why she left La Scala?" I asked.
Erik nodded his head and said, "She has a habit of letting her ego get her into trouble. She is indeed the best soprano this opera house has seen in years, but that's no excuse for her behavior. Stay on Giry's schedule for the time being--we can move the time of our lessons back an hour. I know it's pretty early for you but you'll get used to it."
I could only nod my head and say, "I hope so. I hate getting up in the dark." Erik only smiled as he opened the spinet piano for my next lesson.
My lesson seemed to progress nicely, and when it was over, Erik closed the piano and said, "You're coming along nicely--your voice is getting stronger and you're keeping your pitch a little better. Have you been practicing every day?"
I nodded and said, "Yes,even those dumb breathing exercises you gave me! I've been able to sneak into the costume room that has that full-length mirror, but only for a few minutes each day. Michel must think I've got a spastic colon since I'm always saying I have to go to the bathroom!"
Erik merely smiled again, and then said, "I'm glad to see that you're practicing every day, even if only for a few minutes. I don't wish to change the subject, but are you planning to go to Buquet's retirement party?"
I nodded again and said, "Yes, I wouldn't miss it for the world. I'm going to miss him, though. He has been so kind, even in spite of Carlotta's little stunt!"
Erik nodded as well and then said, "I, too, will miss him. Has he chosen his successor yet?" I shook my head this time, as Erik continued, "Rumor has it that he will be choosing you."
I shook my head again and said, "I have a feeling I won't be chosen."
"Why not?" Erik asked as he and I left the upstairs room and took the secret set of stairs back down to the costume room.
I did not reply until we reached the costume room. As we entered the room from the wall panel Erik had opened from inside the wall, I finally said, "I know that Jean-Baptiste and Mme. Giry are satisfied with my work, as are Michel and Jacqueline, and I guess M. Hauptmann is too, since I've heard no complaints from him, but I don't think Carlotta would approve of my promotion. She seems to have a lot more pull around here than people realize."
As we got to the door to leave, going our separate ways for the day, Erik said, "Don't sell yourself short! You have many friends here at the opera house. As for Carlotta, she can't keep getting her way forever. You'll get that promotion, you wait and see." I only nodded at Erik's statement but I said nothing more for I did not want to spoil Erik's good mood that morning nor did I want to squelch any of his plans concerning my future at the opera house. If Erik wished to think that I had a promising future in either the costume department or in the chorus, who was I to spoil his plans? As for myself however, I was beginning to have my doubts. Erik or no Erik--if Carlotta has her way about it, I'm history here at the opera house! I thought to myself as I began work for the day.
February seemed to zoom by and before I knew it, March had arrived. Jean-Baptiste's party was to be Friday evening right there at the opera house between the hours of four and six so as not to interfere with that evening's performance of Girl of the Golden West. After my lesson that morning, Erik asked me to take the plant he had brought with him to our lesson along with a short note from him expressing his regrets that he would be unable to attend the retirement party, but also expressing his best wishes to Jean-Baptiste. "What kind of a plant is it?" I asked as he handed the potted plant to me.
Erik smiled and said mischieviously, "I thought all women knew their plants!"
It was my turn to smile as I replied, "Not this one. To paraphrase General Grant, I only know two plants--one's a rose and the other isn't!"
Erik chuckled at my remark, for by this time, we had begun to hold both his lessons as well as mine in English and he was beginning to understand my American brand of humor. Then he said,
"It's a rose geranium. If you get up close to it and smell the leaves, you'll notice that they smell like roses."
I brought the plant closer to me and smelled the leaves and found that they did indeed smell like roses. "I see what you mean but I didn't know Jean-Baptiste liked potted plants," I said as I placed the plant on the top of the piano for a moment.
"Actually, he doesn't as much as his wife does," Erik answered, and then seeing the puzzled look on my face, he added, "After he hired me to exterminate the rats and we got to know each other a little better, he began to invite me every year to their apartment for Christmas dinner and over the years I have gotten to see how his wife decorates. Most Frenchwomen content themselves with only a few plants but not her. They were unable to have any children you know, and most concierges won't allow tenants to have pets, so she has poured her energy over the years into her "garden", as she calls it. You should see all the plants she has!"
"But won't Jean-Baptiste mind?" I asked.
"What? Another plant? No, I don't think he'll mind. He might have at one time but I understand once she started selling cuttings from her plants and acutally making some money with her hobby, he stopped complaining," Erik replied as we left the room and he closed the door behind us. Speaking more quietly, he added, "I'm sorry I can't be at Buquet's party tonight but I'll be in tomorrow morning. If you'd like, you could come in tomorrow and let me know how things went."
I nodded my head and said, "I'll look at the schedule and see if I'm scheduled to come in. Jean-Baptiste originally didn't want me to come in on weekends but he didn't plan on having to replace so many costumes for the chorus members. Fortunately, this is going to be the last opera of the season. I haven't seen the summer schedule yet so I don't what we'll be doing this summer but I hope we don't have to make any more costumes--I'm costumed-out!"
Erik smiled at my last remark, and then said, "If I don't see you tomorrow morning, I'll see you Monday. A bien tot!"
Later that same morning as I dropped off the plant and note at his office, Jean-Baptiste said, "Normally, whenever I see a plant from Erik, I just dread it because I know my Catherine will insist on finding or making another spot to put it in, but I know that Erik will always get her a plant that we both will enjoy."
"Has Erik given many plants to her...and you?" I asked as I placed it on his desk.
Jean-Baptiste nodded and said, "He's given us several over the years and each time it's been a different plant. He's given us an African violet, a Christmas cactus, a begonia, and last summer, he gave us some miniature roses to put out on our lanai. But I've got to tell you, as much as I like his taste in plants, I hope that this will be the last one he gives us. I hate to say this but we're running out of room at home for all these plants!"
I smiled and said, "It sounds like Mme. Buquet really likes her plants!"
Jean-Baptiste shook his head and said, I never thought I would marry a plant-a-holic, but I did. I really shouldn't complain though. Catherine and I were never able to have children of our own and these plants are her "babies" as she calls them."
"It sounds like she'll never be bored with all those plants to take care of. Does she plan on recruiting you to help her with them?" I asked mischieviously, finding it very easy to imagine my boss dressed as a farmer wearing a straw hat with a piece of straw sticking out of his mouth.
As if he was reading my mind, Jean-Baptiste smiled and then said in mock exasperation, "Don't give her any ideas!"
I shrugged and trying hard not to laugh, I smiled and said, "I'll try to control myself."
Still smiling to myself, I left his office and walked down the hall and as I did so, he stuck his head out of the doorway of his office and called out, "By the way, I almost forgot--Mme. Giry wanted to see you before you leave for lunch this morning."
My good humor instantly vanished as I glanced at my wristwatch and inwardly groaned for it was nearly ten already. "What does she want to see me for?" I asked, as I turned around and walked back toward Jean-Baptiste's office.
"I have no idea but she said it wouldn't take long. I'll see you back at five, then?" he asked as I stopped at his door.
I nodded and then added quietly, "I'm sorry Erik won't be there tonight."
Quickly looking around to see if anybody could hear us, Jean-Baptiste replied in a subdued tone of voice, "So am I but I learned a long time ago, as I'm sure you have as well, that he's not one for socializing, if you know what I mean."
That's an understatement if I've ever heard one, I thought to myself. I then nodded and said, "I know what you mean. At any rate, I'll see you tonight. A bien tot." I waved and turned to go upstairs to the managers' office.
When I got there, the door was closed so I knocked on it and heard Mme. Giry's voice call out, "Entrez!" When I entered the room, I immediately regretted it for there stood Carlotta in front of Mme. Giry's desk. Mme. Giry, who had been seated when I entered the room, rose from her chair and said as she pointed to a sheet of paper on her desk, "I'm glad you could come, Roberta. Now that you're here, we can get down to business. Ladies, I want you to sign this."
As I walked over to her desk, both Carlotta and said simultaneously, "What is it?"
Still pointing to the paper, Mme. Giry repeated, "Ladies, I want you both to sign this. Consider this a parting gift from both of you to Buquet--it's the gift of peace. It assures both him and management that there will be peace between you both. Since you both are acting like pre-adolescent girls, you will both be treated as such. This is a contract assuring that there will be no more rude comments or remarks from you, Carlotta and no tears or sullenness from you, Roberta. And this is not for just this evening's party. As long as both of you work here at the opera house, there will be peace! Do I make myself clear, ladies?" The look on Mme. Giry's face left no room for doubt--she was fed up with the war between Carlotta and myself, and quite frankly, so was I.
"Yes, Mme. Giry," we both said simultaneously. Looking back at this episode, I suppose that it would have been quite funny, but the stern look and demeanor of Mme. Giry squelched any impulse to laugh.
After we both signed the agreement, Carlotta started to leave the room but Mme. Giry called her back and said, "If you read the fine print, Carlotta, you'll find that you're also required to be courteous to everyone that works here at the opera house the same way that you'd be courteous to any native-born Frenchman, and that includes Mme. Martin." Muttering under her breath, Carlotta walked over to me and shook my hand. "Thank you, Carlotta," Mme Giry said and then she turned to me.
Before she could say anything to me, I said quietly, "I accept your peace offering, Carlotta. I'll see you tonight at the party." Carlotta, for her part, only snorted as she walked, or rather stomped out of the room, leaving the door open which surprised me considering her mood when she left. After she left, I walked over to the doorway, looked out, and seeing that she had truly gone, I turned back to Mme. Giry and asked, "Do you really think this will work?"
"I surely hope so, Roberta. This is her last chance--if she refuses to keep the peace between you two, she'll be fired and no connections on her part will ever get her back, I can assure you. As for your part, you've done everything we have asked you to do, so I really have no complaints about your behavior lately. Well, this was all I wanted from you. I'll see you tonight at Buquet's party. Enjoy your extended lunch!" she replied as she waved me out of the office.
The retirement party for Jean-Baptiste that night was really more of a get-together than an all-out bash. Carlotta and I kept our word and did not fight, although I must be honest and admit that I kept my distance from her as much as possible that night. Management decided to splurge and hired Cafe de la Paix to do the catering. Although the amount of food at the party was far less that the amount served at the New Year's Eve event, the quality of the food was just as good, and like the previous event, the food was served buffet-style, with a large assortment of raw vegetables and fruit along with some hot items in their chafing dishes. There were only a few pastries offered though, by which I was somewhat disappointed, but it was just as well for I could almost hear Erik voicing his opinion of my habit of dealing with stress by eating far more sweets than I really needed, especially chocolates.
After we finished eating, management insisted on getting everybody's attention in order to give Jean-Baptiste a plaque and a small gift as tokens of the appreciation for all the work he had done there at the opera house over the years. After they presented him with a small wooden plaque with his name and the years he had worked, management also gave Jean-Baptiste a twenty-four carot gold pocket watch. After holding it up for all to see, he said, "This is really a fine watch but I think you gave it to the wrong person. In all the years I've worked here, I've never been late but that can't be said of you, Roberta!" Nearly everyone chuckled at he remark, and after the laughter died down a little, I took a cue from the grin on his face and replied in a mischievious wasy, "Now, I've only been late once since I started working here, so I don't need another watch but what I really need is a metro schedule that I can actually understand!"
Everyone started laughing again and after it quieted down, Jean-Baptiste said, "It's so nice for all of you to be here this evening..."
Michel interrupted him by saying, "Actually, we're not all here."
"We know that, papa--that's why we work here!" Jacqueline replied and then giggled, which got everybody laughing again.
Michel rolled hes eyes, leaned toward me and said softly, "And you wonder why fathers go gray and I went bald!" I chuckled again as he composed himself and then added more loudly, "That's not what I meant. What I mean is, that not everyone is here at the party tonight. Joseph isn't here with us like he should be."
"You're right, papa! He's not here," Jacqueline replied.
"Maybe he forgot the party was tonight, you know how he is. I'll go get him," I offered as I rose from my chair.
"No, I'll get him. He's probably down in the basement again," Michel grunted as he, too, rose from his chair.
Jacqueline rose from her chair as well and said, "No, papa, I'll go. You stay here and enjoy the party."
Michel sighed and shook his head. Finally, he said, "All right, then, but be careful and watch it down there. You know how big that basement is! If you're not back in fifteen minutes, we're coming after you!"
"We?" I asked, somewhat dubviously.
After shaking his head again, Michel replied, "I refuse to go down to the basement by myself. The last time I did that, I got lost and it was hours before I was able to make my way back upstairs, and I swore then that I would never go down there by myself again!"
"I'll be back as soon as I can," Jacqueline said reassuringly as she left the room.
Turning back to me, Michel said, "I hope she's right about being back soon. The way things are thrown together down there..."
I only nodded my head, remembering the maze of sets and backdrops on the lower levels of the basement. Wishing to change the mood a little, I finally said, "I don't wish to change the subject but I'd like to see the gifts Jean-Baptiste got. I want to get a closer look at the watch he got and from the looks of it, the boss got more than that." Evidently the others at the party felt the same way, for several people had left their seats as well and some had gone over to the small table that was set up to display the retirement gifts Jean-Baptiste had received, including, I might add, the contract Carlotta and I had signed that morning which was propped up against the geranium that Erik had given him. Other attendees had decided to replenish their plates and had gone over to the other side of the room to the buffet table to refill their plates.
As we neared the display table, I overheard Carlotta sad, "What a lovely plant! Who's it from?"
Michel went to the table, took the envelope that was attached to the plant, and read the name that was written on it out loud, "Erik." Looking at our soon-to-be retired boss, he added, "Who the hell is Erik?"
Jean-Baptiste answered in a matter-of-fact tone of voice, "The exterminator I hired a few years ago to get rid of the rats."
"Well, why isn't he here? People make much better company than rats!" Michel exclaimed.
Jean-Baptiste only smiled and shook his head. Finally, he asked in a more serious tone of voice, "Would you socialize at a party if you had spent all day crawling around the basement of this place looking for rats?"
"I guess not," Michel muttered as he placed the envelope back next to the plant. Just then, we all heard a woman scream. Michel looked up again and said, "That sounds like Jacqueline--are you sure this Erik of yours got all the rats?" Then we heard her scream again. Michel glanced at the door and added, "That doesn't sound like she saw just a rat! Jacqueline's in trouble!" With that, Michel ran out of the room, with Jean-Baptiste, Mme. Giry, Carlotta and myself closely following him. As we ran down the stairs to where we had heard the screams, I noticed that we seemed to be running toward the workroom downstairs. As we ran down the last flight of stairs, we heard Jacqueline scream again, and as we reached the foot of the stairs, those in front finally learned why Jacqueline was screaming.
Everyone crowded around the foot of the stairs except for Carlotta and me. We found ourselves standing on the the stairs themselves, more toward the foot than the middle of the flight of stairs. At first, I was unable to see anything due to the poor light, the number of people at the foot of the stairs and Carlotta's girth. Jacqueline had stopped screaming by now and I noticed Mme. Giry gently take her arm and guide her down the hallway a little. As she moved away, I heard Carlotta gasp as Jean-Baptiste leaned down toward the object he saw on the floor. Jean-Baptiste then took charge of the situation just as he had on the night when the chandelier crashed onto the auditorium floor. "Mme. Giry, would you take Jacqueline and the other ladies upstairs?" Jean-Baptiste asked, and then turning to Michel, he added, "Michel--call an ambulance! Use the phone in the workroom, and then come back. The paramedics may need our help!"
"What is it? What's going on?" I asked as Michel went into the workroom, allowing Carlotta and I to edge our way down the flight of stairs. We then moved to make way for Mme. Giry and Jacqueline to ascend the stairs, and as we turned to follow them back up the stairs, I asked again, "What is it?"
Carlotta, holding on to the handrail of the stairs, turned to me and said sadly, "There's nothing more for us to see down here." After we ascended the next flight of stairs, she added, "Looks like that's the end of the party!"
As I followed her back upstairs, I asked Carlotta, "But, what is it? What happened?" She shook her head but did not answer as we went upstairs. Just as we got to the main floor and were going to Jean-Baptiste's office, the paramedics arrived and were entering the building from the employees' entrance. Andre pointed toward us as he spoke with them, no doubt giving them directions to the lower level of the opera house. We moved closer to the wall to let them pass us on their way downstairs. As we entered Jean-Baptiste's office, I asked, "Aren't we going back to the party?"
Mme. Giry replied, "Carlotta's right. I'm afraid that this party is over!"
"Would somebody be so kind as to tell me what's going on?" I persisted.
Through her tears, for she had been crying ever since Mme. Giry pulled her aside downstairs, Jacqueline said, "Joseph's dead!"
"We don't know that for a fact!" Carlotta said tersely.
Jacqueline shook her head and then replied, "I know he's gone. He looks just like maman did when she died four years ago. That poor, poor man!"
Shocked, I could only ask, "Did he have any family?"
Jacqueline shook her head again and said, "None that live around here. His wife died many years ago and his only child, a son, died several years ago in a traffic accident. His only other living relative is a granddaughter, but she lives in Marseille...I guess I'll have to notify her right away...I'll be all right, Mme. Giry...it's just such a shock, though, to see a man crumpled up like that! I just wasn't expecting to see that when I went downstairs to get him, that's all."
"Non, Jacqueline. I'll be the one to call her. That's part of my job, and not a very pleasant part at that. Right now, I want you to sit down. I'll get you some brandy after I let everyone else know what's going on," Mme. Giry replied just as Jean-Baptiste entered the room. Seeing him, Mme. Giry said, "Good news, I hope."
Shaking his head, Jean-Baptiste could only say, "No, I'm afraid not. Joseph is gone." At that, Jacqueline began to cry harder. He walked over to her, put his arms around her shoulders and said, "I'm so sorry you saw him like that." He then turned to Mme. Giry and said, "Would you be so kind as to get us all some brandy after you tell those upstairs what has happened? What a hell of a day this has been!"
Just then, Michel entered the room, shaking his head. Seeing all of us there, he said, "Looks like we'll have to end the party early."
"I was just going to go upstairs to do just that. Why don't you come with me, Michel? You can help me bring some brandy downstairs for us all afterwards," Mme. Giry said as she walked toward the door. Michel followed her and they both left the room together but the rest of us stayed in Jean-Baptiste's office either too stunned or too drained to do anything else.
After a time, the two returned with Michel carrying a tray holding six small glasses of brandy. As he gave one to his daughter, he said, "Here--take this. It will help take the sting off." After handing out the rest of the glasses, he took the last one on the tray, put the tray on Jean-Baptiste's desk, and then drained his glass in one gulp, saying to Jean-Baptiste as he did so, "Mon vieux, this isn't a good way to send you off!"
"Papa! How can you joke at a time like this?" Jacqueline exclaimed.
"Cherie, there'll be time enough later for tears! Poor Joseph...well, I'll say this much--he died doing what he loved doing most, working here! What a hell of a way to go though!" Michel replied.
"At least it was natural causes," Jean-Baptiste replied.
"Natural causes, eh? Are you sure about that? There may not have been any marks on him but how do you explain the fact that he was dripping wet?" Michel retorted.
I sat up straight in my chair at that remark and asked softly, "He was wet?"
"Completely wet, cherie!" Michel replied and then added, "The floor under him was wet as well and I thought I saw a trail of water leading to the door that goes downstairs to the lower levels." Turning back to Jean-Baptiste, he said, "It doesn't look like natural causes to me! There should be an investigation!"
At that point, Mme. Giry spoke up and said firmly, "That has already been arranged but I would say nothing more for the moment to anyone except Inspector Ledoux. The company's owners do not wish to have any scandals marring the company's reputation."
"I don't care about scandals! I only want justice for Joseph!" Michel growled.
"And there will be, monsieur, I can assure you of that. I only ask that you, and indeed the rest of you as well, cooperate with the inspector and tell him everything you saw. Just don't go broadcasting this to the whole world. M. Hauptmann and the owners will have my head if this gets out!" Mme. Giry replied and then added, "M. l'inspecteur will be here any minute. I'm going to the door to meet him and after he has interviewed the rest of the party goers, I'm sure he'll want to talk with us as well. Now, if you'll excuse me." Mme. Giry then left the room.
After she left, Jean-Baptiste said quietly, "She's right, mon vieux. If there's anything suspicious about this, we'll never hear the end of this from the media."
Michel only snorted and then said, "I suppose you're right. There's nothing for us to do but wait."
After nearly an hour, Mme. Giry returned with Inspector Ledoux, who only raised his eyebrows upon seeing me with the rest of the group. As they entered the room, Mme. Giry said, "M. L'inspecteur, I don't mean to rush you but M. Hauptmann told me after I phoned him with the news of this tragedy, that he wishes that the performance go on as planned. He doesn't want any undue publicity if it can be avoided."
"I understand, madame. Since it's after six already, I would like to interview Mme. Carlotta first and then the rest of the witnesses," Inspector Ledoux replied as he took out his small spiral notebook, and then added, "The rest of you may wait out in the hallway until I've finished." The rest of us left the room in single file, leaving Carlotta alone with the inspector. After a time, she came out of the room and then the inspector called for Jacqueline. As for Carlotta, she went downstairs to her dressing room to get ready for the night's performance. What a strange way to run things, I thought. A man dies under mysterious circumstances here at the opera house and yet, the show must go on! While I would have prefered to voice my thoughts, Jean-Baptiste had made it clear that we were to remain quiet while the inspector conducted his interviews, no doubt hoping to let the inspector know that he could expect full cooperation from the opera house in his investigation.
After the inspector finished interviewing Jacqueline, he called for Michel, and then Jean-Baptiste. As I stood in the hallway waiting for my turn, I tried not to speak with anyone. My efforts became easier as the inspector finished his interviews, for first Michel and then Jean-Baptiste left to go downstairs to get things ready for the performance. Finally, it was my turn to be interviewed. When I entered Jean-Baptiste's office, the inspector motioned for me to sit down on one of the two chairs in the room. After asking me what I saw and answering his question, the inspector put his pen down on the desk and said, "Madame, this won't take very long at all. Did you see anything from your vantage point on the stairs?"
"Non, monsieur l'inspecteur. There were too many people around at the foot of the stairs, and besides, I couldn't see anything because Carlotta was in my way," I replied.
The inspector nodded his head and said, "Yes, it appears that Mme. Carlotta takes up a lot of space. Well, I have before me two lists of names--one is the list of people that were at the retirement party and the other is the names of those working here today and only one of those names is that of a person I have not interviewed and that is the exterminator--one E. Filipovic. Do you know this person?"
"Yes," I replied, thinking so that's Erik's last name--Filipovic.
"Do you know why that person was not at the party tonight?" the inspector asked.
"He told me he doesn't socialize very much," I replied, feeling very uncomfortable with the turn our conversation was taking.
"He?" the inspector asked, raising his left eyebrow.
"Oui. If I'm not mistaken, the "E" stands for Erik. Erik Filipovic," I said, finally.
"Filipovic. Hmmm. When did you see him last, madame?" the inspector asked.
"This morning," I replied, feeling even more uncomfortable.
"Indeed, madame. And, just what business does a costume girl have with an exterminator?" the inspector demanded, and then as if he sensed my growing discomfort, he added, "Need I remind you that I'm investigating a suspicious death and I need all the information I can get!"
Trying hard not to squirm in my chair, I said hesitantly, "Monsieur, I'm not trying to hide anything but...if Mme. Giry or M. Hauptmann ever gets wind of this, I'll lose my job."
"And just why is that?" he demanded.
I paused for a moment, and then leaning forward in my chair, I said softly, "Monsieur l'inspecteur, maestro...Erik...is more than just an exterminator. For some months now, he's been giving me singing lessons and in return, I've been teaching him English. If this ever got out...well...I have the distinct impression , at least from what Jean-Baptiste says, that I'll lose my job."
"Indeed, madame. And why is that?" the inspector asked.
"Monsieur l'inspecteur, I was hired to work in the costume department, not to sing in the chorus," I replied.
"And, you want to be in the chorus," he added.
"Well, you have to admit, monsieur l'inspecteur, the pay would be better," I replied.
He finally smiled, which helped to put me at ease after all of his questioning. "Very well, madame. Does anyone know of this...arrangement. besides you two?" he asked.
I shook my head and said, "Only Jean-Baptiste...and he's not too happy about it."
"I'm not surprised," the inspector said dryly, and then added, "Getting back to the subject at hand, you say that you last saw...Erik, is it?...this morning?"
"Oui, monsieur l'inspecteur--at my morning lesson," I replied.
"And how often are these...lessons?" the inspector asked.
"Every morning on days that I work, and I give him his English lessons usually on the same evenings," I replied.
"Indeed, and did either of you see anything or notice anything out of the ordinary this morning?" he asked.
"Non, monsieur l'inspecteur," I replied.
"And where do you have these...lessons?" the inspector asked as he continued writing down my responses on his notepad.
"Erik found an unused room on the third floor. That's where we have our lessons," I replied.
"Unused room? In this place?" the inspector asked sharply, and for the first time since my interview began, he had a look of incredulity on his face.
"Monsieur l'inspecteur, all I know is that Erik said it was a servant's room at one time, and that he was able to convert it to a practice room," I replied, feeling uncomfortable again.
"Well, madame, this certainly sounds incredible, but I must move on. Do you know where this...Erik lives or how I can get reach him?" the inspector asked, shaking his head, obviously not believing a word of my story.
"Non, monsieur l'inspecteur. He told me that he rents a room but he has never told me where. I'm sorry I can't help you more," I replied.
"A witness who sees nothing, secret music lessons, rooms that don't exist, and the name Filipovic. Just what I need...another damned foreigner that can't be found," the inspector muttered to himself and then, speaking more loudly, he added, "Madame, I may have to call you back for more questioning later. I hope that you don't have any plans to leave Paris anytime soon. You may go now, madame," he said finally, with a note of dismissal in his voice. As I rose from my chair, he added, "Wait! Your name sounds familiar. Aren't you the one who was assaulted at the metro stop a couple of months ago?"
"Oui, monsieur l'inspecteur," I replied as I sat down again.
"And I don't suppose you remember anything else about that night," he said, more as a statement than a question.
"Non, monsieur l'inspecteur," I replied.
"Why am I not surprised. Mon dieu, how I love unsolved cases," he muttered sarcastically , and then speaking more loudly, he added, "Well, if you remember anything else about that night, or about this case as well, call me immediately, understand?"
"Oui, monsieur l'inspecteur, je comprend completement (I understand perfectly)," I replied as I rose from my chair and walked out of the room. To be honest, I was never so glad to leave that room as I was that night. As I went downstairs to join the rest of the crew, all I could think of was the interview. If Joseph died of natural causes, why was his death being treated as a homicide? And what did Erik and my music lessons have to do with all of this? And speaking of my lessons, the inspector makes the fourth person to know of them, and just how long will it be before Mme. Giry finds out about them and fires me? All these questions, plus the events of that evening made me feel very depressed indeed.