"Your apartment!" came a deep, incredulous voice from the other room, "I think not!"
Javert found himself confronted by a bear of a man wearing a shabby brown coat.
"Now," the new arrival continued, "Tell me who the blue blazes you lot are – and don't give me any of that Javert guff either – "
"Because the only inspector Javert around here is me!" interrupted a balding man in a leather carriage coat who strode into the room at that moment, elbowing the burly fellow out of his way and into the doorframe, causing him to stand upon the tall Roma's foot.
"Mind what you're doing, you oaf!" snapped the gypsy.
"Why don't you tell that to baldy?" said the tall man sourly
"Alright. Watch where you're going, baldy."
The bald intruder span around, fixed the two men by the door with a dark look: "I will not be insulted by strangers in my own house!" he said in a slow, dangerous sort of voice "Now, if I may take you names, gentleman" he continued, withdrawing a notebook from his pocket"
"My name is Javert, Louis Javert"
"As, coincidentally, is mine" snickered the Roma, who was beginning to see the funny side of all this.
"What, you mean your name's Louis?" enquired the gaillard calling himself Louis Javert.
"No, it's Javert"
"Oh do stop being ridiculous, Javert is my name and I don't know what kind of game you're trying to play –" fumed the man at the desk, who had definitely not seen the funny side of the business.
Javert himself, who was still standing midway between the desk and the door looking rather lost, was having a hard time seeing any side of the business. He felt a confusion similar in style and proportion to the time when Madeleine had order him to set free some rabid tart that had just tried to claw out his eyes.
"– I am the one and only – "
"Inspector Javert"
"If you don't mind – "
"And I'd still like to know – "
"- how you got in here"
Javert felt giddy and began to sway slightly.
"I am inspector Javert of the Paris prefecture," said the bald man.
"No you're not, you loon!" retorted the tall man.
"I really don't see any point in turning this into a slanging match," said the Roma with horrible amiability.
"If you would all just shut up! I am trying to work on the recapture of a dangerous felon," snarled the man at the desk.
"Don't you tell me to shut up!"
"– I demand to know what the devil – "
"– and then I'll haul all your arses down to the nearest police post!"
"SILENCE! BE SILENT THE LOT OF YOU"
A hush descended over the room. You might have heard a pin drop had there been a tailor by to drop one. All eyes were fixed on Javert, who folded his arms across his chest took a deep breath: "Now, that I have your attention – "
He then promptly lost their attention as the curtain of the bed at the far end of the room were drawn back to reveal a figure in a grey nightshirt. He was a tall man, snub nosed and hard eyed with bushy grey side-whiskers.
"Oh Jean-Jean, is that you?" Then he looked around at the five other men with a simpering air of coquetry on his broad face
"Why, what fine strong lads you are! My name's Javert. What's yours?"
