Things had been slow. Things had been very slow.

When Javert was first transferred to Paris, there had been lots to do. Papers needed filing, orders needed to be given, officers needed to be evaluated, and patrol routes needed to be set. All of these simple duties Javert carried out with relish. Organizational work, which many abhorred, never bothered him. Such details were necessary, Javert believed, for things to work. And Javert liked it when things worked.

So the Inspector laboured for months on these menial tasks. Like a skilled watchmaker, he perfected each screw, each cog, and spring of his life-sized machine, and assembled them in working order. He then stepped back to admire his handiwork; why, the department had been in shambles before his arrival! But before long, Javert's pleasure at seeing his precinct work dissipated. The watch was fixed, nothing left to do but sit and watch it tick!

And that was dull.

Javert well remembered that dullness. He remembered sitting around for days on end with nothing to do but stare out the window, taking the occasional pinch of snuff to keep him awake. He remembered dealing with nothing but petty criminals who could hardly recall their own names, let alone plan out a successful robbery. Javert remembered this dullness so well because he was feeling it again, almost ten years later.

It was a crisp October morning, and this matter is what Javert ruminated on as he was walking to the prefecture. The problem had been nagging at the back of his mind for some time now, yet still the solution was nowhere in sight. He could not very well smash his own watch again, but the thought of enduring another day of apple-stealing buffoons, and dimwitted prostitutes was unbearable.

To be precise, Javert just sometimes yearned for a grandfather clock to repair instead of a pocket watch. That was all.
Javert arrived at the prefecture in good time. He drew out the old key to the building, and brought it up to the lock. He was just about to unlock the door when a loud yell startled him. Disturbed, Javert turned around to look for the source of the noise. He saw nothing. When he was finally convinced that there was nothing amiss, he turned back around to let himself inside.

The cry sounded again. And again. Then finally, a cacophony of yells shot forth from the general direction of the nearby square in front of the Notre Dame cathedral.

This was the kind of excitement that Javert was longing for! He put away his key, and hurried over to see what was the matter.