An act of Mercy

The inspector came back long before sundown. A very efficient man. He had all the items his station-house needed neatly listed, even sorted by the alphabet. Madeleine was impressed and he said so. The inspector´s reaction, as subtle as it was, taught him right there and then, to make a habit out of praising like this. A man had to be trained by positive acknowledgment, to support the right behavior, and in this case, to teach him who his friend was.

But it was a delicate ballet. Javert was clever. And even more so, honorable. He would never take anything as simple as bribing. Which meant Madeleine had to bind him to him in a much more delicate way. A way that not even the great inspector Javert would be able to resist.

He made his first step in that direction by noticing how incomplete Javert´s list was. The inspector had named the most important items: eight horses, saddles and a collection of tools and weapons that badly needed to be replaced. What he´d left out were accessories of uniforms and some other secondary items. When the mayor addressed his assumption, Javert instantly reacted with reluctant suspicion. Thin ice, as suspected. But Madeleine figured he could walk it, if he did it right.

"I told you, it´s my fault that these things were handled badly in the past." he said. "Earlier today I felt you believed me when I said I want to correct this mistake."

"I do, Monsieur le Maire …" Javert assured him.

"Then allow me to really stay true to my word. Be honest with me, and name everything, and I mean truly everything that you need." he handed him back the list for emphasis. "I don´t promise you I´ll be able to get them for you right away, the budget is bound and limited as you know. But I´ll see what I can do in time. Bit by bit. But I can only do so, if I know everything."

At last Javert was convinced. He straightened his back, eyes almost proud and took back the list. "Yes, Monsieur le Maire."

Madeleine allowed him to work on his second desk, while he´d finish his own business of the day.

"You have to excuse the inconvenience." he apologized. "But I´m afraid you´ll have to write it yourself."

"I am literate, Monsieur." Javert frowned irritated, and Madeleine laughed, quickly shaking his head.

"I … I´m sorry, that´s not what I meant. Of course you are, it is just …" he went behind his own desk to fetch the ink and a pen for Javert. "I was talking about …" he had to look through several drawers before he finally found the wanted tools. "This." he held it up for a moment. "I was talking about this." he placed the tools on the desk, for Javert to use it. "I´m short on an assistant right now I´m afraid. She used to maintain the order at my desk. It seems I wasn´t aware how much I´d given this into her care."

"What happened to her?" Javert asked, curios, as Madeleine took his seat behind his own desk again.

"I had to fire her." he answered, not looking up. "It´ll take me some time, to find my way through her order … and find a new … assistant to replace her."

For a moment it was quiet, and when Madeleine looked up, he met the inspector´s gaze, still on him. Worried? What for?

He gave him a smile. "Please, inspector. Carry on." he asked him. And of course Javert complied.

For approximately half an hour they worked in silence, each of them busy with their own paperwork, which in Madeleine´s case consisted in a lot of searching drawers for files and notes, which were stored in a three category system. Damn you, Fantine. What was it with women and their alternative storing systems? And how was it that it made sense while she´d been around, and now suddenly it didn´t?

He was almost glad when Javert presented him the finished, and now truly complete list. It was much more pleasant to discuss this matter and leave the desk and its confusing system out of the picture for a while.

They spent an hour planning the budget of the next few months. Javert was more than eager to provide the mayor with insight and inform him about the priorities, about which items should be renewed first and which of them were still convenient enough to last until the money was there. When they were done they were confident that within three months of time, the police of Montreuil-sur-Mer could be as perfectly equipped as one could ask for.

"I would call that a perfect plan." Madeleine commented, facing his new partner. "You have quite some talent in financial matters as it seems. Well done, inspector."

Javert made a movement with his head that was probably the closest to a blush this man would ever perform.

"Thank you, Monsieur le Maire." he said. "It´s more like a talent in reasonable planning I guess. In my opinion an inspector of the law should know how the system he protects works, economically and politically."

Madeleine nodded, acknowledging this admittedly unexpected detail about the inspector. "A man of many talents." he praised, storing this fact away in his mind, for later examination. Javert was much smarter than he´d believed. A dangerous man indeed. Resourceful. And useful.

"Well." he said. "I´m glad to have you in my town. I need men as good as you are."

This time it was truly a blush, but if Madeleine had to take a guess, Javert was less uncomfortable now, than he had been before. Good. Very good.

Before he could think of anything more to say, a noise from outside drew both of their attention. Usually no reason for him to abandon his meeting, but when he heard his name being called, he had no choice but to get outside after all. How important could it be anyway?

It was disgusting to walk on the muddy ground. If he´d had a choice he would have rather send one of his guards to take care of whatever business was to be handled back in this allay. But people were crying his name and he had learned, early in his career that a man of high rank, only kept his high rank if he kept his reputation. And unfortunately his reputation was that of the benefactor of the town. Which meant he had to show concern, whenever something happened that had influence on his citizens. The one way or the other. This influence though was easily identified, even to a blind man.

"The weight." his foreman cried, after having tested to move the broken cart off the trapped man beneath. "It´s crushing him."

Some other people standing about had already tested the weight just the same. Without success. Madeleine could see the outcome of this before his inner eye. There was a man who would not live to see the next day. A man who´d die a more than painful death underneath this monster of a wagon. A man that only by coincidence had once bruised his mayor´s cheekbone. Madeleine couldn´t help but feel reassured in a higher system of retribution, seeing this.

All around women were already shaking their heads in horror. No one wanted to see this poor man die, but no one dared to simply turn away and leave him for death either. It would be immoral to do that. But dear God, who would be able to stand by and watch while a man slowly died in unimaginable pain? None of these poor souls gathered in the allay knew how to act on this predicament. Leave and be damned for it, or watch and carry this terrible memory for the rest of their lives?

Madeleine needed merely a minute to assess the situation. And he knew the answer.

"Has everyone tried to lift this thing?" he asked. "You!" he addressed a strong looking man, but the man stepped back. Of course.

Madeleine made an effort to inhale. "What about a hoist?"

He only got told that someone was already trying to organize one. It wouldn´t be there in time. Just as expected.

"Inspector." Madeleine turned to Javert, the gravest frown between his brows, and the inspector glanced right back at him, just as dark. He knew Madeleine would ask something from him, and the mayor was sure a man as dedicated as Javert, would do everything in his power to try and obey the given order. Even if he thought it impossible to succeed.

Madeleine inhaled once more, and spoke.

"Is your pistol loaded, inspector?"

Javert blinked, startled. "Yes, monsieur."

Madeleine nodded, and glanced back at the cart, only for a moment before he closed his eyes, to silently ask God for forgiveness. The decision he had to make was not easy. But it was the right one to make.

"This man will suffer." he spoke, quietly, but loud enough for everyone in a radius of five meters to hear. "There´s no way to save him. He´ll be dead until the hoist is here but … until then he´ll be in pain." he closed his eyes, yet again. "It would be inhuman to …"

"I understand, Monsieur le Maire." Javert´s voice was low as well, and when Madeleine met his gaze he saw that he had spoken true. He did understand.

The mayor nodded. "Do it." he ordered, and everyone who was present in this moment, everyone who witnessed the mayor give this order, would later on testify how much guilt and pain they had seen in Madeleine´s eyes, when he had to give an order like this.

Javert took his pistol, steadily and walked over to the man under the cart. When he aimed his gun at the man´s head, old Fauchelevent met the inspector´s eyes. There was pain, and fear, and despair about his own inevitable end. But after a moment, not longer than a few heartbeats, the man settled down, stopped fighting against the weight that slowly crushed his body, and nodded, in final acceptance.

Javert waited until the man had closed his eyes. When his lips stopped moving, after having spoke a last silent prayer, Javert pulled the trigger.

...

After that incident, Javert finally accepted the cognac Madeleine offered him. He took the glass the mayor filled for him, and took a cautious sip. His hand was shaking. Next to him, Madeleine filled a glass of his own and swallowed almost all of it in one gulp. His eyes were in the distance, dark and gloomy. And for a moment Javert could see the face of the dead man again, filthy with mud and distorted in pain.

The shot still seemed to echo in his mind.

"You did the right thing, inspector." Madeleine´s voice woke him up again and he opened his eyes. He hadn´t even noticed that he had closed them.

He met the gaze of the mayor, tired, tensed, and yet so much more compassionate than he could remember to have ever seen it on any of his superiors. Madeleine looked like a soldier, a general after the battle was over. Only Javert wasn´t sure if this battle had been lost or won.

"Yes, Monsieur le Maire." he managed, but his voice was hoarse, partly from the alcohol but mostly from the experience.

Madeleine nodded. Once. "This man would have died in any case." he spoke, turning to face the room before him. "But slowly. Painfully." It didn´t sound as if he spoke to Javert. "There was no way to save him. You spared him unnecessary suffering. You did the right thing, Javert." The mayor stopped to take a shaky breath. "You did the right thing."

Javert lowered his gaze. "Yes, Monsieur le Maire."

Madeleine turned back to face him. And there was something desperate in his eyes. "I ordered you to do it." he spoke, and he spoke it like a confession. As if he was really asking for Javert´s forgiveness.

Javert met his gaze right on. "But I pulled the trigger." he replied, strangely calm.

Madeleine shook his head, regretfully. "I´m so sorry I had to ask this from you." he said. "I had no right to do this."

"Yes." Javert objected. "You had. You are my superior."

"That´s no reason to …"

"Monsieur le Maire." Javert interrupted him, stronger this time. He put down his glass, in order to face the mayor right on with no distracting element between them. "This man would have died." he repeated what Madeleine already said. "Slowly. And in pain. I´ve seen it in his eyes." for a moment he could see it again, but he willed the image away in order to focus on the mayor´s eyes. "You did the right thing." he told him.

Only the mayor didn´t look convinced. "Did I?" he asked, gulping, and something in Javert wanted to reach out, and comfort this man.

"Monsieur le Maire." he put as much strength into his words and posture as he could in this moment. "There was only one right decision to make and you made it. And if you´d ask the same thing from me again, I´d do it again."

Madeleine only nodded, stiff despite the warmth of the room. "Thank you, Javert." he wiped his hand over his face, stepping away, as if thinking. For a while he just stood there, his back to Javert, eyes on who knew what. And Javert waited, until eventually Madeleine turned back to him. His gaze was still exhausted, but something was still different. Javert could not name it but it was.

"What will your report say?" he inquired.

"Exactly what happened." Javert answered, not needing to speak out that exactly what happened meant, exactly what they just spoke about. And of course Madeleine understood.

"Thank you." he said again. Nothing more. They were agreed.

Don´t forget you can still tell me what you think. I´m always open for suggestions.