Phantom of the Opera Page #4

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 murdered.

Murdered? 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 murdered!

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 murder.

Erique Claudio,

"former violinist

at Paris Opera House.

"Age, 48 years, height 5'8.

"The face has recently

been disfigured by acid."

It's an outrage.

After 20 years

with the Paris Opera,

this miserable Claudio has the

insolence to commit a murder.

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 pat.

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.

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