Phantom of the Opera (1943)

[bunniefuu]

Good evening, Vercheres.

Shh!

Good evening, Inspector.

You have missed half of the opera, as usual.

I didn't come to see the opera.

As usual.

Christine! Raoul!

I just got back from Rouen. Now I must talk to you for a moment.

But I...

Raoul, I shouldn't have left.

Christine, dear. I hurried over to tell you something.

What? That I love you.

Again? Still.

What a wonderful audience tonight. Wonderful.

And you were marvelous, Biancarolli.

Oh, thank you.

We're having supper tonight at the Café de l'Opéra.

I'm terribly sorry, Raoul, but I can't tonight. Why not?

Chris! Christine!

I'm coming, Jenny.

If you have another engagement tonight, break it.

You've had your fling at this for two years.

But I don't want to give up the Opera.

Not until I've had a chance to really sing.

And Anatole says he has great faith in my voice, and he's going to help me.

Naturally. That's what baritones are for.

You're in wonderful voice tonight, monsieur.

Excellent. Thank you, Marcel.

Christine! Why weren't you on the stage for the end of the act?

Well, I...

You're all right, aren't you? Oh, yes.

Mademoiselle DuBois?

Come here, please.

Don't worry.

Why weren't you on the stage for the curtain calls, mademoiselle?

Well, I was ill...

No, you were not.

You were entertaining a friend. A friend, mind you!

Now, for a singer to deliberately absent herself from the stage during a performance is a gross breach of...

Oh...

You wish to talk to me, monsieur?

With your permission, I'd like a few words with Mademoiselle DuBois in my office after the performance.

Yes, she will be there. Thank you.

Now, you bear in your mind what I told you, mademoiselle.

Yes, monsieur.

Terrifying fellow, that Vercheres, when he wants to be.

I'm very grateful, monsieur.

I promise you I'll never miss a curtain call again.

It's a promise. Now, uh...

This young man who is more important to you than your career...

Who is he?

But he isn't, monsieur. That is, I'm very fond of him... I mean...

Oh.

Well, he's Inspector Raoul Daubert of the Sûreté.

Inspector? You mean a policeman?

But he's not an ordinary policeman.

Even an extraordinary policeman seems a strange sweetheart for an operatic soprano.

Does he sing?

I'm afraid you don't understand, monsieur.

He's a graduate of the m*llitary academy at Saint-Cyr.

And he's very intelligent and very clever.

For a man who means nothing to you, he seems to have made quite an impression, mademoiselle.

But I didn't say he meant nothing to me. What I said was...

I know.

I know what you mean.

You have promise, Mademoiselle DuBois.

But you must choose between an operatic career and what is usually called "a normal life."

Though why it is so-called is beyond me.

You can't do justice to both.

The artist has a special temperament, and he must live his life exclusively with those who understand it.

I understand, monsieur.

You'll find that music has its compensations, my dear.

Good night.

Good night. And thank you.

Oh, Mademoiselle DuBois, will you please tell Monsieur Claudio to come in?

I think he's in the anteroom.

Certainly.

Good night.

Good evening. Monsieur Villeneuve asked that you come in now.

Thank you, mademoiselle. Thank you.

Mademoiselle? May I speak to you for a minute?

Certainly.

You weren't on the stage tonight for the third-act curtain calls.

Everyone in the theater seems to have noticed it.

It's really quite flattering.

Why weren't you there?

Oh, forgive me, but I've been here so long that you...

Everybody, everything connected with the Opera is so much a part of my life.

Of course. But Monsieur Villeneuve is waiting.

Yes.

You weren't ill, were you?

You're not in any trouble?

Oh, it's impertinent of me, I know, but, uh...

You're very kind.

Good night.

Christine!

Oh...

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

Good night.

Good night.

Come in, please.

You know why I sent for you, Claudio.

I think so, Maestro.

For some time now, I have sensed discord in the violin section.

It was not until tonight that I definitely located the source of the trouble.

Let me hear you play, if you please, Claudio.

Yes, Maestro.

What was that, Claudio?

A little song. A lullaby.

From Provence, where I was born.

You played it very well.

Perhaps I was wrong.

No, it was you.

What could have been the matter, Claudio?

You're an accomplished musician.

Come, come now.

Let me hear you play the opening movement in the third act of Marta.

It's no use, Maestro.

Something has happened to the fingers of my left hand.

But you played that lullaby perfectly.

It's a simple melody, Maestro.

That's why I played it.

You were trying to fool me, eh, Claudio?

Well, perhaps it's only temporary. Perhaps it'll get better.

I hope so, but in the meantime...

You know, Claudio, the aim of the Paris Opera is perfection.

I'm sorry, old fellow. Very sorry.

You've been with us a long time, haven't you?

Twenty years.

What am I to do, Maestro?

I know it's hard, Claudio.

No doubt you've saved a tidy little fortune to retire on.

Yes, of course.

In appreciation of your long service, I shall arrange with the directors to have a season ticket issued to you.

Thank you, Maestro.

Why didn't you get yourself something to eat before the opera instead of keeping me up all hours? You're rich enough.

Same soup night after night, week after week.

Oh, please don't disturb yourself, Marie.

You're a fine one to say that.

Why wouldn't I be disturbed?

I'll come right to the point, Monsieur Claudio.

What you do with your money is none of my business.

If you want to hoard it and starve to death, that's your affair.

But you haven't paid me a sou for six weeks, and that's as long as I'm going to wait.

Marie, I haven't any money. Not now.

If you'll be patient just a little longer...

You haven't any money!

After working for the Paris Opera all these years?

What do you expect to do with your money? Bury it with you?

If you do, they'll dig you up and steal it.

If you think you're going to add a few francs to your fortune at my expense, you're very much mistaken.

Marie, you've been very kind. You've been very patient.

You'll be paid, I promise you!

Now, please leave me alone.

It makes me sick to think of all that money doing nobody any good.

Either I get my money, or out you go!

That's my last word, Claudio.

You are late, Monsieur Claudio. The lesson is almost over.

I didn't come about that today, mademoiselle.

She's not in voice today.

I'll tell Signor Ferretti...

Oh, please don't interrupt the lesson.

Of course not.

I understand.

But I must announce the time to Signor Ferretti or he'll keep his students for hours.

It's 11:00, Signor Ferretti.

Thank you.

Mademoiselle, you disappoint me this morning.

I'm sorry.

I'm a little upset.

If some man is upsetting you, pitch him out of your life.

Music is first. Music is everything.

I understand.

You don't understand. Women never understand.

But they are docile.

Perhaps you're not getting enough sleep.

Come later tomorrow, say midday.

Thank you, monsieur.

Mademoiselle, remember you have responsibilities to others as well as yourself.

I know.

I can never repay you for what you've done for me.

Good day, monsieur. Good day.

Would you come this way, monsieur?

Monsieur Claudio is here, Signor Ferretti.

Oh! Come in, Claudio. Come in.

Won't you sit down a moment?

Thank you.

I suppose you noticed your protégé was disappointing today.

Well, an off day now and then...

You've done a lot for her, Signor.

Nevertheless, she is making definite progress, eh?

I was dismissed from the orchestra last night.

Oh.

Then you will have to withdraw your support from Mademoiselle DuBois?

Only for a little while, just until I can secure another position.

I had hoped that you would continue to instruct mademoiselle.

Claudio, if you don't mind me saying so, you are a fool.

A man of your age might win a young girl like Christine DuBois if he happened to be the director of an Opera company but a poor violinist...

Signor.

We agreed never to discuss my motives.

Please. Won't you continue to work with her?

Why should I?

Why should I assume your burden after you spent all your money on her?

The girl means nothing to me.

But her career means more to me than anything else.

I would never let you lose anything on her account.

I'm sorry, Claudio. Really sorry.

If I had the time... But my expenses are great, and you must remember that many who can pay are waiting to study with me.

Well, I'll let her come a few times, and then I will tell her she no longer needs me.

But that isn't true.

As a matter of fact, if you had the money, she might be launched on a career very soon.

I assume that Mademoiselle DuBois has not the means to pay for her own instructions.

Why, her month's salary wouldn't be enough to pay for one of your lessons.

But, uh...

But I have written a concerto.

Now, will you trust me if I can arrange to have it published?

Every violinist has written a concerto!

Come, come, my dear Claudio.

But I have faith in this one, as much faith as I had in Mademoiselle DuBois when I came to you three years ago.

Now, I was right about her, Signor. And I'm right about this.

Pleyel and Desjardines are certain to publish it and they'll give me a substantial advance.

You'll see.

It's a shame. Pleyel's in there with his etchings.

Why don't they tell the poor devil he won't see anyone today instead of torturing him like this?

Claudio.

He'll see me?

No. He is too busy today.

Do you know whether he's seen my manuscript?

Manuscript? What manuscript?

My concerto.

I know nothing about it.

Oh, but you yourself took the portfolio into him.

If I did, you will receive it in due time.

Now, my dear, the acid. Be careful, or you'll burn yourself horribly.

Monsieur Pleyel.

What are you doing here?

I've been waiting to see you since this morning.

Weren't you told I couldn't see anyone today?

Yes, but my manuscript. I must find out about my manuscript.

Would you mind giving this fellow his manuscript, Georgette?

You'll find it on the desk, if it's anywhere.

What is your name?

Claudio. Erique Claudio.

Claudio.

No, no, no, it wouldn't be there.

It's a large manuscript in a portfolio. It's a concerto.

Well, I'm sorry, but I don't know where it is.

Oh, but it must be here.

If it is, it will turn up. Call again in a few days.

You don't understand, mademoiselle. It's the only copy I have.

It represents two years' work.

You heard what the lady said.

But it was brought into this office.

It must be here! It must be found!

Did we ask you to bring your music to us, Claudio?

I've seen samples of your compositions before.

Perhaps some employee has thrown this one into the wastebasket, where it belongs.

Good night!

You think I was right, then, Monsieur Liszt?

It's magnificent. Tell me his name again.

Erique Claudio. Claudio.

I've tried for years to persuade Pleyel to publish his work.

But you know how Pleyel feels about unknown composers.

Pleyel will publish this, I promise.

That's my music!

I thought I told you to get out.

Thief.

You've stolen my music.

Thief! Maurice!

You're choking him! You've stolen my music!

Thief! Thief!

You've stolen my music!

Argh!

What happened?

Stop him! What's happened, mademoiselle?

Monsieur Pleyel's been m*rder*d.

m*rder*d? By that madman, that Claudio.

Get a doctor, quickly!

You, get a doctor. Somebody call the police.

You hear. Get the doctor! Call police! Police!

Police!

Somebody stop him!

What happened?

Monsieur Pleyel has been m*rder*d!

He ran down that way.

Not here.

I am sorry, monsieur.

Move on and don't come back into this district tonight.

Lecours, how could we ever have been induced to accept the management of this place?

It's not an opera house. It's a madhouse.

Now this, "Wanted for m*rder. Erique Claudio, "former violinist at Paris Opera House.

"Age, 48 years, height 5'8.

"The face has recently been d*sfigured by acid."

It's an outrage.

After 20 years with the Paris Opera, this miserable Claudio has the insolence to commit a m*rder.

After 20 years with the Paris Opera, a man is capable of anything, my dear Amiot.

Come in. Come in, come in!

Monsieur, there is a thief in the Opera House.

Thief?

A costume has been stolen. And two masks.

That's impossible. That fool of a wardrobe woman must have lost them.

She should have been dismissed long ago.

She's much too fat.

That's not all. The thief has broken into the restaurant.

The restaurant? Yes, monsieur.

There's missing a...

There's missing...

There's missing a bucket of pickled pigs' feet in vinegar, a ham, and a paté.

Call the police at once. This must be stopped!

Yes, monsieur.

Monsieur, I'm afraid the police can't stop that.

It's he. Who?

Please, don't start that nonsense again, Vercheres.

At your age, you ought to know that there aren't any ghosts.

Monsieur, you are skeptical, but I don't like ghosts.

I'm a busy man. What's that?

Our brilliant stage manager insists there's a malicious ghost prowling about the Opera.

If anything goes wrong, he thinks this ghost did it!

Oh, Monsieur.

It has a long nose and a big red beard.

You make me nervous!

It's gone.

Did you hear that, Lecours?

My master key is gone.

Do you realize what that means, Lecours?

With that key in his possession, the thief can open 2,500 doors!

To say nothing of thousands of closets and cabinets.

Perhaps the pickled pigs' feet will k*ll him.

Oh, you don't seem to understand.

Why, he can hide everywhere.

The entire police force couldn't find him here.

You don't seem to realize the extent of this place, Lecours.

You have never taken the trouble to find out.

Why should I? I have troubles enough.

What are you waiting for?

Get the police! Yes, monsieur.

Paté, a ham, pickled pigs' feet and 2,500 rooms!

What is the Opera coming to?

That's lovely. What is it?

It's a lullaby of Provence. I've known it all my life.

Hear those bells ringing Soft and low Bringing peace Through the twilight glow Calling to everyone Night has begun Tired from your weary toil Day's work is done Hear them ring While my love and I Drift and dream To their lullaby

Hear those bells ringing Soft and low Ringing peace Through the twilight glow Calling to everyone Night has...

Monsieur Daubert. Madame.

They call this rehearsing, monsieur.

I'm sorry to intrude, but I must see you, Christine.

Well, you see, I'm busy right now, Raoul.

Christine!

Please remember that you are speaking to a gentleman.

Well...

Come in, Raoul.

Rehearsals!

Anatole, well, he's been helping me.

Oh, Monsieur is very kind.

Not at all, monsieur. I find it a pleasure.

I'm Anatole Garron of the Opera.

Oh, I'm so sorry. This is Inspector Daubert, of the Sûreté.

I've heard of you, Monsieur Inspector. Your work must be exciting.

Not so exciting as yours, monsieur.

It doesn't lend itself to self-expression.

I didn't recognize that delightful song you were singing, Christine.

But as you know, I am no connoisseur of the opera.

It's not from an opera, Raoul.

It's a lullaby.

A lullaby.

It didn't seem very effective as a lullaby.

Well, you see, Monsieur Inspector, a song is capable of many interpretations by a musician.

By a detective, too.

Though no doubt the detective is usually mistaken.

I must see you alone, Christine.

I'm here on business from the Sûreté.

With me?

What business could mademoiselle have with the Sûreté?

What is it, Raoul?

If you don't mind, I'd rather Anatole stay.

Very well, Christine.

You know Erique Claudio?

Well, yes. How well?

I knew him only as a violinist in the orchestra.

I encountered him a few times in the foyer or on the stage or outside the Opera, but that's all.

He... He acted a little strangely, but I assumed he was that way with everybody.

Strangely? How do you mean, strangely?

Well... I don't know.

He just seemed eccentric, but harmless.

I thought he was a rather kind old fellow until I read of the m*rder.

What is it, Raoul?

He was a kind and inoffensive man, until he thought Pleyel was robbing him of his life's work.

Then something snapped, and he became a homicidal maniac.

In his state, he may commit other murders.

It's urgent that we capture him as soon as possible.

But... But what has all this to do with me?

We found something in his room that connects you with him.

No doubt, you can explain.

So that's what became of it.

Be good enough to explain yourself, monsieur.

Well, certainly. That statuette is mine.

Yours? Definitely. I made it.

I intended to make you a present of it, Christine.

How nice of you, Anatole.

Unfortunately, it disappeared from my dressing room.

It's an extraordinary likeness.

My compliments on your versatility, monsieur.

You must have posed for this many times.

Every detail is you.

I never posed for it Not once.

You did this from drawings?

And from memory, Monsieur Inspector. Oh.

To see Christine is to carry her image in your heart and mind forever.

That old scoundrel Claudio must have stolen it.

Why?

Isn't it obvious?

Speaking purely as an inspector of the Sûreté, I'm afraid that even the obvious often needs confirmation.

But as a man, Monsieur Daubert, you can understand that sitting there in the orchestra pit night after night and looking at Christine, Claudio probably fell in love with her.

You admit that is possible, no?

Christine, Claudio ever seek more than a casual acquaintance with you?

No, never Can you imagine so diffident a lover, monsieur?

Claudio was barely 50.

Well, no doubt he lacked assurance.

No doubt.

This is yours, Christine.

You're giving it to me? Yes.

Well!

Then I'll accept it as a gift from both of you.

Well, I seem to have got the worse of this bargain.

In the future, Monsieur Inspector, I detect, you model.

In any case, monsieur, that was a bad clue.

Not so bad as it seems.

It enabled me to recover mademoiselle's statuette.

Thank you, Raoul.

Is that your carriage at the door, monsieur?

Why, yes.

Would you be good enough to give me a lift?

Which way are you going, monsieur?

Oh, it doesn't matter. As Inspector of Police, I have business all over Paris.

Yes, well, in that case...

Au revoir, Christine. Au revoir.

You've been most helpful, Christine. Most helpful.

I hope you catch him soon. Thank you.

Ready, monsieur?

At your service.

After you, monsieur.

Madame looks beautiful tonight.

Don't I always, Yvette?

But especially tonight, madame.

Monsieur Garron, if he has eyes in his head...

Madame Biancarolli, please. The first act just started.

Thank you. Madame.

Good evening.

Marcel, do you think I lead an enviable life?

Yes, monsieur.

Well, I do, but not for reasons you're thinking.

I'm a very happy man because I'm having supper tonight with Mademoiselle DuBois.

Christine?

You're going to be a great and famous singer.

I'll help you.

Christine, you're going to be a great and famous singer.

I'll help you.

What's the matter?

Why, someone just said the very same thing to me a moment ago in my room.

Someone? Who?

I don't know. It was just a voice.

I knew you'd hear me sooner or later.

You mean it was you? Of course.

I don't mean actually but I've been saying that ever since I saw you and heard you sing.

And at last, you heard me.

Your cue, monsieur.

I'll tell you again tonight, at supper.

What is it, madame?

I don't know. I...

Help me!

Monsieur Vercheres!

Madame.

You, get the doctor. Quickly.

Take her to her dressing room.

What could have happened?

What?

Quick!

Mademoiselle DuBois, you must go on at once.

Madame Biancarolli has been taken ill. Please get changed quickly.

Claire! Claire! Where is that clumsy wardrobe woman?

Claire, get Mademoiselle DuBois changed at once.

There isn't a moment to lose.

She was drugged. There's no doubt about it.

Now, who the devil would want to drug her?

I'm sure she over-ate.

You're certain she'll recover, Dr. Lefort?

Definitely.

What am I doing here? I...

I should be onstage! I...

Doctor! Madame...

She'll be all right now.

Why is she singing? What is she doing out there?

What's happened?

Please, madame, control yourself. I assure you that...

Come to the point, Amiot.

You were seized with a touch of indigestion.

As your understudy, Mademoiselle DuBois naturally took your place.

A touch of indigestion! Why, I was perfectly well when I went on the stage.

Why, I was drugged. Oh...

And you all know by whom.

Anatole Garron did it to make room for that baggage.

Madame, consider what you're saying!

Madame, please, compose yourself.

I demand Garron's arrest, and hers, too. She had a hand in it.

I demand an investigation. Please, madame.

Let me go!

Madame, consider our position.

You were wonderful!

I assure you, monsieur, the property man swears that there was no opportunity for any human being to tamper with the drinks.

Monsieur Inspector, what are you waiting for?

I demand the arrest of Anatole Garron. You know he did it.

I know nothing of the sort, madame.

I am a police officer, not a psychic.

It is my duty to collect evidence, without prejudice.

Well, haven't you evidence enough? Everyone knows...

Madame! Will you be seated, please?

It is true, Monsieur Garron, that you had the opportunity of placing the drug in Madame Biancarolli's glass.

Certainly, Monsieur Inspector.

We all did.

It becomes, then, a question of motive.

The motive is very simple, monsieur.

He wanted to get me out of the way so he could make room for that little...

Are you referring to Mademoiselle DuBois? I am.

You heard, Monsieur Garron.

Madame is in good voice, and most explicit.

Have you anything to say, monsieur?

I deny madame's accusation.

Do you deny, monsieur, that you had any motive in drugging madame?

I deny that I drugged her.

I don't understand your reluctance to make the arrest, Monsieur Inspector.

You're not an examining magistrate.

Can you substantiate your charge that Monsieur Garron had a motive in drugging you, and that the motive was Mademoiselle DuBois?

Why, anybody with half an eye would be able to tell you...

Hearsay is not evidence, madame.

I'll go over your head, Monsieur Daubert!

I have influence at the Sûreté.

I was drugged tonight to the point of death, and I insist upon the arrest of the criminal and his accomplice.

And if you don't, I... One moment, madame. Please.

You have heard Monsieur Garron deny that he drugged you.

As the inspector says, there is no evidence to warrant an arrest.

And remember... Are you suggesting that I...

And remember, madame, if you insist upon his arrest and fail to obtain a conviction, you will find yourself in a very, very difficult predicament.

Quite right.

And no matter what the outcome, don't forget that your career is bound to the Paris Opera.

Whatever scandal injures us or any member of the company will injure you as well.

Precisely.

Are you suggesting that I forget the whole affair?

Yes.

For your own sake as well as ours, and purely as a matter of business expediency, if nothing else.

That is exactly what we propose, madame.

Exactly.

Very well.

That is, under certain conditions.

I want a new understudy.

Christine DuBois goes back to the chorus and stays there for the two years my contract has to run.

I won't permit it. I'll not stand for such an outrage.

If any such arrangement is made, I'll...

My dear Anatole, I have not finished.

You suggest I forget I was drugged tonight, monsieur?

Madame. Very well, I'll go a step further.

I suggest that you forget anything happened afterwards.

For once, madame, I do not understand.

Oh, Monsieur Lecours, it's so simple.

Nothing happened tonight.

I wasn't drugged.

And Christine DuBois didn't sing.

But...

Madame, there are always critics in the house.

You'll send word to the paper that no mention of her is to be made.

You'll do nothing of the sort. It's ridiculous.

Besides, what about the public, madame?

Shall we send word to the public to forget that Mademoiselle DuBois was a sensation?

If you're willing to ruin the opera for the sake of Christine DuBois, that's your affair.

But you'll either do as I say, or I'll charge both of them with trying to m*rder me.

Do you understand that? "m*rder me."

Madame was magnificent tonight.

I was good, wasn't I?

Monsieur Garron must be biting his nails.

Let him.

He'll come crawling back to me on his hands and knees, confessing the whole thing and begging my forgiveness.

Madame!

Who are you?

Christine DuBois will sing tomorrow night.

Leave Paris.

This is your last warning.

Take off that prop room mask!

What was that? I don't know.

What is it? What happened? Shh!

Monsieur?

Madame Biancarolli and her maid have been m*rder*d.

m*rder*d?

Are you hurt? What happened?

What were you doing?

I was chasing him.

Chasing whom? The m*rder*r, of course.

Do you mean to imply there was someone else up there?

Why, certainly. Everyone must've seen...

You saw him yourself, didn't you?

No, monsieur. I was chasing you.

But how long will the Opera remain closed, Monsieur Inspector?

Yes, how long? I do not know.

Are there any suspects? Yes. Whom do the police suspect?

There is no one.

What is your theory on the motive, monsieur?

I am not a theorist.

All I can tell you is that as long as the Opera House remains closed, everyone in all Paris, in all France, will be thinking of nothing but the m*rder and hounding us to make an arrest.

Inspector Daubert.

I came directly. I got your message.

What has happened now?

Listen to this, monsieur.

"Christine DuBois must replace Biancarolli, "who chose to ignore my warning."

I found this mysteriously placed on my desk after we got back from supper.

There is an excellent suggestion in this, monsieur.

You must reopen the Opera at once.

But, monsieur, your orders...

I'll countermand it. You must reopen.

With Mademoiselle DuBois, monsieur?

Of course. That should pacify this madman.

And if he doesn't harm anybody, his being in the building doesn't matter.

Christine DuBois must not sing, monsieur.

What?

And the m*rder*r must not be permitted to remain in the building indefinitely.

It is my duty to apprehend him.

I don't understand.

If Christine DuBois sings, that will satisfy the m*rder*r, and he may never appear.

Soto lure him from his hiding place, someone else must sing.

Are you suggesting that we reopen the Opera with a m*rder as an added attraction?

Please, Lecours, the...

I shall post police throughout the building, even with the chorus on the stage, with a special bodyguard for the singer.

But, monsieur, our reputation...

I am reluctant to do this, monsieur, particularly on Mademoiselle DuBois' account, but I can see no other way.

And whom do you suggest as bait, Monsieur Inspector?

Whomever you decide.

Madame Morency. She has nerve, that woman.

Too much. Very well, then.

The Opera will reopen.

Yes, monsieur.

Oh.

Good morning, Christine. Good morning, Christine.

Good morning.

May I come in, Christine? May I come in, Christine?

Yes. Do.

Well?

Christine, I... Christine, I...

If I might have a word with you... Yes?

What is it? After you, monsieur.

Christine, I... Christine, I...

Well, now, one at a time, please.

You first, Anatole, because your name begins with an They're going to reopen the Opera, Christine.

At last, you and I are going to sing...

You are wrong, monsieur. I'm sorry, Christine.

They are going to reopen the Opera, but without you.

Circumstances connected with the m*rder of Biancarolli demand that someone else sing the role in your place.

But Anatole... Really?

You may be interested to know, Monsieur Daubert, that circumstances connected with the m*rder of Biancarolli demand that Christine does sing.

Really?

I am aware that your profession requires a certain self-assurance, but aren't you going too far?

Not at all.

I have a plan of my own for apprehending the m*rder*r.

So you have turned detective, monsieur?

I have.

Very well, if it amuses you.

But I advise you to confine your hobby to the entertainment of yourself and your friends.

Now let's not waste words, monsieur.

I've been assured by Messieurs Amiot and Lecours that as soon as the Opera reopens, Mademoiselle DuBois will sing.

And I might add that my plan is strictly confidential.

I'm sorry, Christine, but in my official capacity, I have had to order Messieurs Amiot and Lecours not to permit you to sing.

But Raoul... At least not for the present.

And I am not in the least interested in your plan.

May I have a word with you alone, Christine?

That's what I came for. May I speak to you alone, Christine?

But I'm going out.

My carriage is outside. My carriage is outside.

Well, I'm not going right now.

I mean, I'm going later.

I'll wait. I'll wait.

Monsieur Villeneuve suggested you might be willing to perform this service in the cause of justice.

Do you really think this Claudio would be tempted to leave his hiding place and risk his life merely to hear his own concerto?

Played by Franz Liszt himself? Do you doubt it, Maestro?

So many crimes have been committed in the name of music.

It seems only fair to use it now to avert one.

I'm at your service, monsieur.

Thank you, Maestro. Thank you.

Most exciting, this detective work. Most exciting.

Well, it's more than exciting to me.

I had the honor of being suspected of the crime.

Monsieur Daubert. Please.

Listen to this, monsieur. Another note.

How this phantom knows everything is beyond me.

"If Madame Lorenzi sings, you will be responsible for what happens.

"This is your last warning."

Our plan is succeeding, then.

I don't like it, monsieur. I don't like it.

What is to become of the Paris Opera?

Policemen everywhere. It's worse than a racetrack.

How is Madame Lorenzi?

She's enjoying it. Nothing will keep her from singing now.

Well, you know how opera singers are.

What with your matron from the Sûreté in her dressing room and that sphinx-like fellow of yours waiting to escort her to the stage, she feels quite important.

Madame Lorenzi, I trust you're entirely composed.

Composed?

What are you talking about?

Why not?

Maestro.

The piano has just been tuned, Maestro.

And when do we introduce the concerto?

Probably after the opera.

Inspector Daubert has a plan of his own, and we must give it every chance.

Perhaps you'd enjoy seeing the opera from the orchestra pit.

Thank you, gentlemen. If you don't mind, I'll be quite comfortable here.

It'll give me the opportunity to look through the score.

Excuse me. The overture.

Thank you again, Maestro.

You men are to remain onstage throughout the performance.

You are to make yourselves as inconspicuous as possible and be on the alert for anything suspicious.

The only persons who have business backstage are the members of the Opera company, all of whom you know.

That is all.

Christine, I'd much rather you'd stayed at home.

Surely you understand why I asked them not to let you sing tonight.

But I couldn't stay away.

We're introducing a new opera, and Madame Lorenzi is a great artist, and...

And Anatole Garron is the baritone.

I'm sorry, Christine.

But I'm really concerned about what may happen tonight.

I know. I am, too.

Wait for me, please, in your dressing room.

I'm sorry.

He's here, Gerard.

He's m*rder*d one of our men and stolen his cape.

He's probably wearing one of the masks. Watch everyone closely.

Of course, monsieur.

I'm sorry.

What is it?

Come with me, mademoiselle.

Are you one of the police?

Where is Inspector Daubert?

He's investigating the cause of the accident. I will look after you.

You're not one of the police.

Don't be frightened. I'll watch over you.

I've always watched over you. Come.

Shh!

You'll stay here with me, my child, won't you?

It's been so lonely without you, but you've come to me at last, haven't you?

Now you'll sing for me, and I'll play.

And we'll be together forever.

It's beautiful down there.

Beautiful.

Come now, my little one.

Christine?

Where's Christine?

Oh, I don't know. Isn't it horrible?

Hasn't she been here? I haven't seen her.

There.

You're not frightened now, are you?

You know I'll not harm you, don't you?

How could I harm you? I've always helped you.

Haven’t I?

Yes.

Yes, what?

Yes, you've always helped me.

Of course I have. Biancarolli knows.

She wouldn't let you sing.

She didn't know how much I love you.

Now she knows.

But it doesn't matter now.

Nothing matters except you and me, Christine.

Now you'll sing all you want, but only for me.

You will, won't you, my darling?

Of course.

There's a piano in the Opera foyer. Let's go there.

You play, and I'll sing for you.

But you don't understand.

We can't go back there ever.

It was I who made the chandelier fall.

I for you, Christine. But I warned them.

I told them there'd be death and destruction if they didn't let you sing. Come.

See?

Didn't I tell you it was beautiful?

You didn't know we had a lake all to ourselves, did you?

They've poisoned your mind against me.

That's why you're afraid.

Look at your lake, Christine.

You'll love it here when you get used to the dark.

And you'll love the dark, too.

It's friendly and peaceful.

It brings rest and relief from pain.

It's right under the Opera.

The music comes down in the darkness, distills it.

Cleanses it of the suffering that made it.

And it's all beauty.

And life here is like a resurrection.

Gentlemen, this is more than just a performance of a new concerto.

The whole future of the Paris Opera may depend upon it.

Garron. Garron, have you seen Christine?

No. She's at home.

She came to the Opera House earlier this evening.

Now she's disappeared. We can't find her anywhere.

Play, Maestro.

Play.

Christine?

Christine?

Christine?

Christine?

Christine!

Georges, you two search that passageway. Gerard, go that way.

Be careful. This madman may do anything now.

Christine!

Christine!

My concerto.

Liszt is playing.

That was a brilliant idea of yours, Garron.

Perhaps Claudio is up there now, listening.

It sounds in front of us.

It is in front of us.

The whole place is ready to crumble.

Sing, Christine.

Sing.

Don't move.

The whole place is caving in.

The sh*ts must've started it.

He called that his concerto, and yet it's written around the melody of my song.

Who was he?

He came from your district in Provence.

Everybody there must have known that old folk song.

He was almost a stranger to me, and yet somehow I always felt drawn to him with a kind of pity, understanding.

His suffering and madness will be forgotten.

His music, his concerto will remain.

I... I'm glad he heard it before he...

Poor Claudio.

Oh, mademoiselle. You were magnificent tonight!

Thank you, Celeste. I was good, wasn't I?

Oh, wonderful!

Celeste.

Oh!

You were magnificent, Christine.

Incomparable, beautiful. A sensation!

Is that all?

I've just begun. It would take days and years to tell you how superb you were.

We're having supper tonight at the Café de l'Opéra.

Well, I'm terribly sorry, Anatole, but I can't tonight.

Why not? Have you another engagement? Yes.

With whom?

With Raoul.

That policeman?

Come in.

Christine?

Oh.

Oh.

Christine... Christine...

You two know each other, of course.

Of course. Of course.

Well, how soon will you be ready, Christine? The carriage is waiting.

I know Monsieur Garron will excuse us.

Anatole has just asked me to supper too. No doubt.

You won't be long, will you, Christine?

I have an idea.

Why can't we three have supper together? It's all ordered, isn't it?

I am not in the habit of taking baritones to supper.

And I do not care to be seen in public with the police.

Christine, you'll have to make up your mind finally and irrevocably between the two of us.

Precisely.

Don't push, monsieur.

No, no, no. Mademoiselle is very...

Excuse me.

Don't push, monsieur. Please.

Would you join me for a bit of supper at the Café de l'Opéra?

With pleasure, monsieur.

Think we can get through this crowd?

Certainly. After all, who'd pay any attention to a baritone and a detective?

Quite right.

After you, monsieur.

After you, monsieur.