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1.
Javert was already late for the report in the mayor’s office. It was a first. Javert had never been late for anything, especially not for any kind of official meeting with a superior – a superior he admired as much as he did admire Monsieur Madeleine, furthermore. Not that he had ever admired anyone that much.
However, to his shame Javert had to admit that he was running late a good five minutes by now. Not that it was his fault, mind you. Even when officially off-duty, Javert was still a policeman, a full-time job in his eyes, and as such he had to uphold the law any time. A brawl on the square had caught his attention and, of course, Javert felt obliged to interfere and keep the two young, obviously drunken men apart until one of the officers arrived.
He could only hope that the mayor would not be inconvenienced by Javert’s delay. About Monsieur Madeleine’s anger he was not concerned at all. The ever present charity and kindness of the mayor was all too often bestowed upon Javert. As much as he admired the man for his kindness – for he himself knew barely a thing about bestowing mercy – he was also exasperated by the naivety with which he was giving his kindness to other men.
Still, it would be inappropriate to keep the mayor waiting longer than necessary. So, in his hurry, Javert barely avoided bumping into Monsieur Madeleine’s foreman. Javert grumbled a half-hearted apology but the foreman just barked a laugh. “No problem, at all, Inspector. It’s completely understandable that you want to see the mayor as soon as possible. Don’t let me keep you from the possibility to bath in the presence of the man you’re enamoured with.”
Javert froze in his tracks. How could the man possibly- no. That was absurd. The man was only teasing him because Javert had warned him off last week about the man’s drinking habits. That was everything behind the man’s words, surely. Javert could not have been that obvious, could he?
“Don’t be ridiculous”, he barked at the foreman and rushed past the offending man to finally get to the meeting with Monsieur Madeleine.
2.
As a man of the law, it was Javert’s duty to uphold the peace on the streets and deal with every sort of disruption. Even, if that disruption was a bunch of teenage boys who thought they were the most cunning people to ever have existed.
For a few weeks now Javert had had problems with this gang of seven boys who liked to splash paint at house fronts and destroying fences and stealing apples from Madame Benoir’s trees. It was tiresome and infuriating at the same time, mostly because he could pass that time with so much more productive, actual police work. But, alas, duty was duty, whether he liked it or not.
So, Javert found himself facing the underdeveloped wits of seven hormonal influenced teenage boys. He would rather face a gang of violent thugs but what could he do but his duty.
“Boys”, he scolded them, when they yelled obscenities at him because he was cuffing one of them “Just stop behaving like that and we won’t have a problem with each other, but as long as you continue to be such a pain in my backside-“
“I bet”, the leader of the little gang suddenly chided in with a wicked grin, “You’d like someone entirely else to be the reason for some pain in your backside. Like, I dunno, Monsieur Madeleine?”
The boys howled with laughter. They sobered up instantly as soon as Javert began to drag the lot of them to the police station because of insulting a top-ranking politician.
3.
The docks were the foul region of Montreuil-sur-Mer, the realm of whores and thieves and burglars and scum in general. Javert was content to uphold law and order even there. Prostitution was not illegal but still it seemed to attract many different sorts of crime.
So, naturally, Javert saw it as his duty to patrol the docks regularly. There never was a time when he found not someone he would arrest. Sometimes one of the prostitutes would attack a costumer, sometimes a customer would attack a prostitute.
Javert found himself quite at a loss why someone would do that. It was plain stupid. But apparently being the law meant also leading an endless fight against people’s stupidity. Javert would always interfere to save a person’s life or to keep an innocent from harm. Even when that someone was a prostitute.
Sometimes the girls – for they were seldom more than that – tried to offer him payment in their ways, but of course Javert would have none of it. He was an honourable man, he was an unbribable policeman. Besides, he would desire someone else and no prostitute could offer him what he dreamed o- Javert really ought to stop thinking like that. It was dangerous.
Apparently he thought too often about that because one evening he arrested a drunken sailor who had tried to take one of the girls against her will. When another officer hauled the man away to the police station, Javert stayed to write down the statement of the prostitute.
But the young blonde smiled warmly at him, bashing her eyelids. “Thank you so much, dear Inspector. Without you that man would have taken me right here right now. I am in your debt. How can I ever repay you, Monsieur?”
Javert scowled at the girl. “I merely did my duty, Mademoiselle. No payment is required.”
The girl sighed and rested a hand on Javert’s arm. Javert stared blankly at the hand. “But I wish to thank you very thoroughly, Monsieur l’inspecteur. With all I can offer you.” Her hand crept up to Javert’s shoulder.
The inspector stood there, motionless, blankly staring at the moving hand, trying to comprehend what was going on. Only when the hand reached his neck, he was pulled out of his stupor. “What do you think you’re doing, girl?”, he hissed and firmly pulled her hand away.
To his surprise, the girl chuckled. “So it is true”, she giggled, “You don’t take a woman’s payment. None of us can steal your heart. Maybe because it is already taken?”
“What are you talking about?”, Javert bellowed, instantly regretting his stupid, stupid question.
“I think”, the girl whispered in a voice that Javert thought was supposed to be seductive, “I think your heart already belongs Monsieur Madeleine. And that is why you won’t have us. Or am I wrong? Then prove me wrong, Inspector. Show me that you are not interested in the dear mayor.”
Javert could not believe his ears. Had the girl just really proposed what he believed to have heard she had? “You are out of your mind”, he mumbled and spun around to escape from this deprived person. He had brought a few meters between them, then he faced her again to bark “A police officer will take your testimony tomorrow morning, be here at ten o ‘clock” before he spun around once more and hurried away.
4.
Although Javert liked to paint the world in black and white, he had learned over many years, much to his dismay, that there were uncountable amounts of grey shades. Javert usually tried to ignore those grey shades because in front of the law, everyone was the same, after all.
Still, it did not escape his notice how impossible it was to generate stereotypes for some groups of people which could always been applied. Even among criminals as well as honorable men he met such and such people. There were always two sides of a coin.
Maybe that was the reason why he always was so very skeptic of priests. Of course, he held them high in his esteem. They were men of god, after all, and as such they had to be treated with respect. Still he could not help but feel the need to be extra cautious around them. One could not say if there was something else to them or not when those robes made them untouchable.
Untouchable, that is, for everyone but an inspector during an investigation. Javert had followed a lead in the most recent case of a spectacular robbery that before had been unheard of in Montreuil-sur-Mer. Said lead had proven to be most valuable. Robespierre, a dodgy worker he had already suspected, had lost any kind alibi but had been seen around the church, not very far from the house where the break-in had taken place.
Now it was up to Javert to collect as much data as possible. That included taking a testimony from the priest, Father Mathieu.
When he met Father Mathieu in the church’s garden, the priest smiled pleasantly at him. “Ah, Monsieur l’inspecteur”, the elder man bowed his head in a greeting manner, which Javert answered with a salute.
“Father Mathieu”, Javert began, “I have come to you because I need your help.”
“Yes, yes”, Mathieu nodded, “I think I know why you have come. To be honest, I awaited you much sooner, son.”
“Really?”, Javert frowned, displeased, “Then why did you not say something?”
Mathieu smiled. “Because it is up to you to decide when you are ready.”
“Ready?”, Javert’s frown grew deeper, “What for? Father, I think we are not talking about the same-“
“Of course we do, my son”, Mathieu chuckled, “There can only be one reason your conscience would have brought you to me. And I can relieve you of your worries. God’s love is for all of us. You surely have not strayed from his path with your thoughts.”
“Pardon?!” Javert stared at the father, wide-eyed. What was that madman talking about?
Matieu continued to smile that infuriating, understanding smile of his. “Of course, son. God approves of every kind of love, even when it is from man to man. You are not doing wrong when you are in love with the mayor. On the contrary, love is God’s gift to us.”
Suddenly, Javert was shaking with a coughing fit. A throat and a mouthful of spit could indeed be a dangerous combination. “I have not come to you to talk about my feelings for Monsieur le Maire, Father”, Javert scolded the man as soon as he could breathe easily again. “Which”, he added hastily, “Are not existent in that way. I am here to ask you about the evening the robbery down the street took place.”
“Forgive me, Inspector”, Mathieu still smiled and did not seem sorry at all, “That the most obvious point sprung to my mind. Of course I will answer your questions. But be assured, you are doing no wrong.”
Sometimes, Javert was more than skeptic of priests. Sometimes, he hated them.
5.
Another hotspot for crime were the local inns. The fact that there were three inns located only a few streets away from each other was not helping. Apparently, most men who enjoyed alcohol too much liked to act violent without any apparent reason.
Once again, Javert found himself unable to relate to his fellow men. And he was disgusted to see that even some of his subordinates engulfed themselves in such inappropriate behaviour.
One could say it would be an understatement to say Javert was unpleasantly surprised to see one of the constables sitting at the bar, holding a drink in his hands that definitely smelled alcoholic. Javert scowled at the young man. “What are you doing here, Voliére?”, Javert asked not too friendly after he had checked that there was no other drunkard causing any problems around.
The constable looked up, eyes bleary and glazed over with drunkenness. “What does it look like, Inspector?”, he slurred when he had finally recognised the man in front of him, “I’m trying to forget that my wife cheated on me. That whore!”
“Constable Voliére!”, Javert hollered sternly, “You are forgetting your place! It is neither appropriate to insult your wife nor to let go of yourself like that! Show some self-respect, man!”
“You ain’t one to talk ‘bout self-respect”, Voliére snorted, his tongue loosened remarkably by the alcohol, “You’re pathetic, always thriving for Monsieur Madeleine’s approval like a good lapdog. Why don’t you sit with me, have a drink? Dulls that heartache. Puts your mind off that thrice damned Madeleine for once.”
Javert glared at Voliére. “Do you even hear yourself talking? You can be happy that I won’t dismiss you. After such behaviour, I could.”
“You could, yeah. But would you? Would you when the mayor doesn’t approve of that?”, the constable snickered.
“It is not my concern to match Monsieur Madeleine’s approval”, Javert growled. The man was starting to seriously get on his nerves.
“But it is”, Voliére slurred, “You should see yourself whenever he’s around. ‘Whatever Monsieur pleases.’ ‘As Monsieur wishes.’ And that disgusting look of yours, like a lovesick puppy. I bet you’d lick this man’s boots if he let you.”
Javert had had enough. His face flushed in a deep red, partly with embarrassment, partly with anger, he tugged at Voliére’s arm. “You don’t know what you’re saying, Voliére. You’re drunk. Get up, I’ll escort you home.”
Javert ignored any further words coming out of Voliére’s mouth and he surely did not think about the saying ‘children and fools – and what else were drunkards?, whispered Javert’s treacherous mind – speak the truth’.
+ 1
Patience was a virtue. One of the most valuable virtues and, thus, one of those virtues to be rarely found. Javert was proud to say of himself that he had mastered this particular virtue. If not on first sight, Javert was the epitome of patience whenever he was hunting down his prey. He was patient when he had to deal with tiresome superiors or influential men like politicians or wealthy businessmen. He had discovered very early that it was easier to be patient than to get a filled complaint.
Nevertheless, even Javert’s patience had its boundaries.
So it was no surprise that Javert wished for the meeting with Monsieur Madeleine and a Monsieur Jeraque, a businessman from Paris, to end sooner or later. Rather sooner than later, thank you very much.
The man was exhaustingly arrogant and had a blasé attitude towards the mayor Javert would have liked to arrest him for.
His patience was strained further by the mere fact that he was in the same room as Monsieur Madeleine. It was difficult to not stare at the man he admired so much. His presence was like a heat that was piercing Javert when he wanted nothing more than to ignore that man as well as he could so he would draw no attention to his crush he tried so desperately to hide. There would be nothing worse than Monsieur Madeleine finding out about his inappropriate and surely not appreciated feelings.
Of course, he could not ignore his superior completely, for he was integrated into the discussion about a possible future agreement between Montreuil-sur-Mer and Monsieur Jeraque and Monsieur Madeleine did not let a chance pass to ask for his inspector’s humble opinion.
The mayor was growing weary of the meeting, Javert could feel it. He knew the elder man well enough. It was no surprise, Javert pondered, that Monsieur Madeleine’s patience was limited, too, when it came to a twat extraordinaire like Jeraque. When the mayor sent the businessman a tight-lipped smile and declared that it was quite late, angel’s chorales would not have been a sweeter sound to Javert’s ears. “Let us end this meeting for today”, the mayor proposed, “And continue tomorrow at the same time. I am afraid that I still have work on my desk here to attend to.”
Jeraque said good-bye with a sneer and Javert in a much more respectful manner with a swift, deep bow. The Inspector felt it was his duty to accompany the mayor’s guest back to his quarters. He could think of a dozen more pleasant tasks, wrestling with a mother bear being one of them, but as always he was a man of duty.
The businessman constantly threw short, concealed glances at Javert who got riled up by that very fast. “Is something on your mind, Monsieur?”, he asked after a few minutes.
Jeraque snorted. “Yeah, your mayor. That Madeleine fellow. I can’t stand him. Work on his desk to attend to, my arse. The only work he wants to attend to on his desk is you.”
Javert stopped, frozen on the spot. “What did you say?” His voice was flat, ragged.
Jeraque snorted again, chuckled even. “You mean to tell me you have not noticed the way he kept looking at you, kept trying to gain your attention? Please, inspector, I thought you were smart.”
Javert was smart, but he had been too busy with masking his own desire to notice anything else aside from the discussion which he had followed intently to be able to take part in it.
“Seriously”, Jeraque chuckled darkly, “I was surprised that he would not jump you right in front of me. Disgusting behaviour, surely you agree with me, Inspe- Inspector? Inspector!”
But Javert had abandoned his duty, left Jeraque and raced back to the mayor’s factory to ask for a very private meeting right then and there. Somehow, he had the feeling, that the mayor would not decline.