would haunt an Opera House, out of all places. However, Jean-Claude put a paw to his chin instead.

   "Inspector?"

   Jean-Claude came back to his senses, "Oh, sorry about that Babet. I was just…thinking…" The Shepard placed his top hat on his head, and made his way to the door.

   "See you later, Monsieur." Babet nodded, Jean-Claude following suit, before heading out of his office. As he walked out of the building and waited for a carriage, the words "Opera Ghost" seemed to stick to his mind.

   A ghost in an Opera House, he thought, placing a paw to his chin again, how interesting…

   The loud barks of an extremely furious poodle resonated among the walls of the Manager's office, in which the trio of bosses seemed to be shaken by La Carlotta's sudden appearance. They hadn't expected her to arrive a day early, as she was said to be back by that Thursday, but her current disposition seemed to tell them otherwise.'

   La Carlotta had just recovered from her bronchitis, and having heard the news of the dog that had replaced her during the Gala, she nearly spit out her morning tea. Just the idea of her, the great La Carlotta, the leading soprano for the past 5 seasons, having an understudy was preposterous, unbelievable, but it was indeed true: The great La Carlotta had been replaced at the Gala without her permission, something that she wasn't all too happy about.

   "Please, Madame, if you could keep your voice down," Kaltag said, checking if his ear drums were still in tact by rubbing his ears. "There are people at work outside."

   "Keep my voice down?" Carlotta barked, "How can I when you have replaced me with some…some…costume dog! I can never be replaced! What kind of managers are you? Monsieur Levefre would never let this happen!" She then slumped on the chair behind her, whilst her dachshund servant Jacques fanned her off.

   "Madame, this is not entirely our fault." Kaltag responded, "We didn't know that you were going to be replaced at the Gala."

   "But you didn't fix it, did you? I know what goes on the stage, Monsieur Manager, how that husky plays my role during rehearsals! I thought I instructed Monsieur Belmont to not have anyone, and I meant anyone, to take my place if I am away. But, he did not listen, did he? I will be speaking with him about this. Do not think for a second messieurs that I am going to forget this little stunt! We will discuss matter this later, messieurs"

   The poodle then got up from her chair, and strutted rather abrasively towards the door, "Jacquie, la porte, s'il vous plait," she ordered her servant.

   "Oui, mademoiselle," The dachshund replied, opening the door for the poodle. With a resounding "humpfh" sound, and with an abrupt turn of her head, the diva left the office, with her little servant tailing behind her.

   "Yeesh, with all that yelling, it's strange how her voice is still in tact!" Star said, taking another sip of his champagne, "So, when is the Inspector arriving?"

   "He will be here shortly, Star. In the meantime, could you please fetch the waiter from the Café de'l Opera?"

   "No problem, Kal," The purple husky saluted, and right as he got up to the door, it was suddenly opened by the Box-Keeper, and the door smacked the poor husky right on the head.

   "Oh, I am sorry, Monsieur Andre!" Madame Aurelia cried, realizing what she had done, "Are you alright?" Star nodded in response, as he started to see stars.

   "It's ok, he'll be fine," Nikki interjected, "He's taken worse beatings from Kal."

   "It's true, Madame." Star responded, as he was getting dizzy, "It's all in good…fun…" The husky then fell on his back with a thump, unconscious.

   "I'll get him," Nikki walked over to the purple husky as he dragged him over to an adjacent chair.

   "Well, while he does that," Kaltag said, getting up from his spot, "Is there something you need?"

   "Yes, Monsieur, I have a letter for you three." The collie then took out a letter with a very familiar red wax seal on it. As soon as she placed it on the manager's desk, the Chinook groaned, as the letter was the same one from before.

   "Let me guess, it's from O.G.?" Kaltag inquired, taking the letter in his paws. "Is this really necessary? We've been following his orders as of late."

   "Yes, Monsieur, I suggest you read it." Aurelia replied insistently.

   Kaltag rolled his eyes, knowing full well that this was nothing more than a prank. Of course, he had expected another letter, but this was starting to get a bit ridiculous. Despite his disbelief in the ghost, he broke the seal of the letter, and read it:

   Monsieur Managers,

   I am quite excited for the beginning of the newest season of the Opera Canine, and one of my favorite operas is the one that will start off this glorious season: Charles Gounod's Faust.

   I assume that Carlotta has returned to the Canine, and whilst she is welcome back, I don't exactly believe that she has any "real" talent. Only a fool would prance around the stage, thinking that she's acting, and whilst I think that her voice is quite impressive, she does not seem to capture the charm, beauty, and innocence that Mademoiselle Daae has brought to the stage during rehearsals. Oh, if only there was a way for her to play the part of Marguerite for this production…

   Oh, that's right, that's your job, Messieurs, and I am absolutely sure that you will give the role of Marguerite to Mademoiselle Jennifer Daae, who, in my opinion…no in fact, will do a much better job than any other singer before her that has played the role.

   As for Carlotta, she will probably play a smaller role, one that's more "ideal" for her taste. Like, oh I don't know, Siebel perhaps?

   Anyway, I expect you to follow up on this offer, and perhaps you could make it possible. It would surely be of service to this entire opera house, and to your "reputations".

   Sincerely,

   O.G.

   P.S.: Expect more letters from me next week. They will be of great importance to opening night.

   P.S.S: Also, could you tell Madame Aurelia to get me a foot-stool. The seats are a bit stiff in Box Five, and I must stretch my legs from time to time.

   The Manager slumped down in his chair, unsure what to think of the letter. From the looks of things, it was practically telling them, no, forcing them to comply with whatever this O.G. wanted. It didn't sound like an order, it was mostly a suggestion, but Kaltag didn't exactly trust what this O.G. was referring to.

   He acts like we're his servants or something! It is your duty to do so! This O.G. is really starting to- The Chinook's thoughts were suddenly cut off by a knock at the door.

   "I'll get it, Monsieur," Madame Aurelia walked over to the door, and opened it.

   She gasped once she saw the figure before her, "Oh, Monsieur Inspector," She bowed, "Mind if I take your hat?"

   "Much obliged, Madame," Jean-Claude smiled and nodded, handing over his top hat.

   "Monsieur Inspector, thank you for coming," Kaltag said, "Please, have a seat."

   "Thank you, but I'm perfectly fine at the moment." The Inspector sat down on his haunches instead, "So, you three called me…?" He looked over at Star, who was muttering in his sleep.

   "Is he alright?" The Inspector asked.

   Kaltag groaned, "Nikki could you?" He then made raised his paw and slammed down on his other paw.

   "No prob," The large husky smacked Star over the head, waking him up instantly.

   "I'm up, I'm up!" He cried, before noticing the Inspector's presence in the room, "Oh, sorry about that, Inspector."

   "Its fine, Monsieur Andre," He replied, "Now then, as I was saying, you three called me here because of the appearance of a thief in the Café de'l Opera."

   "Yes, and I was just about to send over Monsieur Star to fetch the waiter-"

   "There is no need to, Monsieur Moncharmin," Jean-Claude interrupted, "I have already spoken to him, and he has given me the details about this thief." He then pulled out a notebook from his coat, and flipped a few pages, and started reading, "Here is the list of items that have been reported as stolen: A small, cooked chicken, one bottle of wine, a case of various vegetables, and a pate."

   "Did the waiter tell you anything else?" Nikki asked.

   "He stated that he was standing nearby the storage room around the time of theft, which was during dinner at 9:25 PM. According to the waiter, he was sent back there to fetch a bottle of wine, and he noticed that something was rustling amongst the many boxes, crates, and cases, and upon further investigation, he saw what