Not for myself, Lord. For something else.’
‘And what might that be?’
‘While I have been here I wandered by night through the Lower East Side district of this city, but a few miles from this very cathedral. It is an appalling place, an inferno on earth. There is grinding poverty, squalor, filth, stench and despair. Out of these come every vice and crime. Children are used as prostitutes, boys and girls …’
‘Do I hear a hint of rebuke, Joseph, that I should allow these things?’
‘I could not rebuke you, Lord.’
‘Oh, don’t be too modest. It happens every day.’
‘But I cannot understand it.’
‘Let me try to explain. I never gave Man a guarantee of perfection, only the chance of it. That was the whole point of it all. Man has the choice and the chance but never the coercion. I have left his freedom to choose inviolate. Some choose to try to follow the path I pointed out; most prefer their pleasures now, here. For many that means inflicting pain on others for their own amusement or enrichment. It is noted, of course, but is not to be changed.’
‘But why, Lord, can Man not be a better creature?’
‘Look, Joseph, if I reached down and touched him on the forehead and made him perfect, what would life on earth be like? No sadness, so no joy. No tears, no smiles. No pain, no relief. No bondage, no freedom. No failure, no triumph. No rudeness, no courtesy. No bigotry, no tolerance. No despair, no exultation. No sins and certainly no redemption. I would simply create a paradise of featureless bliss here on earth, which would make my heavenly kingdom somewhat redundant. And that is not the point of it all. So, Man must have his choice, until I call him home.’
‘I suppose so, Lord. But I would dearly like to bring this Erik and all his riches to a better service.’
‘Perhaps you will.’
‘But there must be a key.’
‘Of course, there is always a key.’
‘But I cannot see it, Lord.’
‘You have read my words. Have you taken nothing in?’
‘Too little, Lord. Help me. Please.’
‘The key is love, Joseph. The key is always love.’
‘But he loves Christine de Chagny.’
‘So?’
‘Am I to encourage her to break her marriage vows?’
‘I did not say that.’
‘Then I do not understand.’
‘You will, Joseph, you will. Sometimes it takes a little patience. So, this Erik frightens you?’
‘No, Lord, not he. When I saw him on the roof and later saw his figure fleeing from the Hall of Mirrors, I felt there was something about him: a feeling of rage, of despair, of pain. But not of evil. It was the other one.’
‘Tell me about the other one.’
‘When we arrived at the Coney Island funfair, Christine and Pierre went into the toyshop with the Funmaster. I stayed outside to walk by the sea for a while. When I rejoined them in the shop, Pierre was with a young man who was showing him round and whispering in his ear. A face as white as bone, black eyes and hair, a black frock-coat. I thought he was the manager of the shop, but the Funmaster told me later he had never seen him before that morning.’
‘And you did not like him, Joseph?’
‘Liking was not the point, Lord. There was something about him, a chill colder than the sea. Was it just my Hibernian imagination? There was an aura of evil about him that caused me to make Your sign, just instinctively. I took the boy away from him and he stared at me with a dark loathing. That was the first time I saw him that day.’
‘And the second?’