Episode 5: The Phantom of the Gilded Stage (The Misadventures of Felix Bright and Dr. Moira Keys)

The Setup

The invitation arrived in dramatic fashion: an envelope slipped under their door, sealed with a wax insignia of a mask and rose.

“An invitation to an opera!” Felix exclaimed, holding it aloft. “Finally, someone recognizes our brilliance.”

Moira took the envelope and read the accompanying note:

"Detectives Bright and Keys,

The Gilded Stage Opera House is plagued by a sinister presence. Curtains are falling, voices are vanishing, and the audience is terrified. We implore you to solve this haunting mystery before opening night.

P.S. Black tie preferred.”

Moira raised an eyebrow. “You don’t even own a tie.”

“Nonsense!” Felix proclaimed, digging through a drawer. “I have a perfectly serviceable bowtie—just needs a bit of ironing.”

Moira sighed. “Fine, but if this ‘phantom’ is just someone trying to boost ticket sales, I’m leaving.”

The Investigation

The Gilded Stage Opera House was a masterpiece of excess: chandeliers dripping with crystal, walls gilded in gold leaf, and seats upholstered in red velvet. But beneath its grandeur lurked an air of unease.

“I don’t like it,” Moira murmured as they walked through the darkened lobby. “Too quiet.”

The manager, a stout man with a perpetually furrowed brow, met them at the grand staircase.

“Thank heavens you’ve come!” he exclaimed. “The phantom struck again last night. The lead soprano found her dressing room covered in rose petals—black ones!”

Felix’s eyes gleamed. “Black roses, you say? Intriguing!”

“And someone keeps tampering with the chandeliers,” the manager added. “We’ve had two near misses already.”

Felix stroked his chin theatrically. “A phantom with a flair for drama? I like their style.”

Moira rolled her eyes. “Let’s see the dressing room.”

The Clues

The soprano’s dressing room was a disaster: broken mirrors, scattered sheet music, and an ominous note scrawled in red ink:

"Leave, or face the final curtain."

“Very dramatic,” Felix noted, sniffing the black roses. “Artificial dye. Our phantom is resourceful but lacks a greenhouse.”

Moira examined the handwriting. “Look at this. The ink smudges easily—probably fountain pen. Someone old-school.”

As they pieced together clues, a distant sound echoed through the opera house—a haunting melody played on a pipe organ.

“Cliché,” Moira muttered.

Felix grinned. “But effective! Let’s follow it.”

The Phantom’s Lair

The melody led them to the bowels of the opera house, where they found a hidden passageway behind a crumbling tapestry. Felix, ever eager, pushed the tapestry aside and stumbled into a cavernous room filled with theatrical props.

“I knew it!” Felix exclaimed. “The Phantom’s Lair!”

Moira inspected the room, unimpressed. “It’s just storage. Look—stagehands’ uniforms, old scripts, and… wait.”

She picked up a mask identical to the one in the letter.

Before they could investigate further, the organ music swelled, and a shadowy figure appeared on the balcony above.

“Who dares disturb my domain?” the figure boomed.

Felix squinted. “Nice voice projection. Did you train at the Royal Academy?”

“Felix!” Moira hissed. “Maybe don’t antagonize the phantom.”

The Confrontation

The phantom, draped in a flowing cape and mask, descended dramatically via a hidden staircase.

“You shouldn’t have come here,” they intoned. “This opera house is mine.”

“And you are…?” Moira asked, crossing her arms.

The figure faltered. “Uh… the Phantom?”

“Right,” Moira said. “And why exactly are you sabotaging your own opera house?”

“I’m not sabotaging it,” the Phantom snapped. “I’m saving it—from mediocrity! These productions lack soul. No passion! No artistry!”

Felix clapped. “Bravo! A critic with flair.”

Moira shot him a look. “And the black roses? The falling chandeliers?”

“Symbolism!” the Phantom declared. “I wanted to inspire fear—fear breeds brilliance!”

“That,” Moira said, “is the worst motivational speech I’ve ever heard.”

The Finale

Before the Phantom could retort, the chandeliers above began to creak ominously.

“Um,” Felix said, pointing up. “Was that part of the plan?”

The Phantom looked genuinely confused. “No…?”

The trio scrambled as a chandelier came crashing down. Felix grabbed Moira and dove out of the way, landing in a heap.

When the dust settled, they found the real culprit: a disgruntled stagehand hiding in the rafters with a saw and a guilty expression.

“Phil?” the Phantom exclaimed.

“Sorry, boss,” Phil mumbled. “You’re a great phantom, but I needed a raise.”

The Wrap-Up

Back in the lobby, the Phantom (revealed to be the opera’s director) apologized profusely.

“You’ve saved the opera,” he told Felix and Moira.

“Not really,” Moira replied. “You should probably invest in better workplace conditions.”

As they left the opera house, Felix grinned. “Another case closed. And you doubted the Phantom!”

Moira shook her head. “Felix, the only thing I doubt is your sanity.”

“Ah, but that’s what makes me brilliant,” Felix said with a wink.

Moira groaned. “Next time, you wear the cape.”