Doomed

When the sun rose the next morning over Montreuil-sur-Mer, Fantine´s hands were stiff. Her fingers would barely move, cold and numb as they were, and when they did it hurt as if someone was driving a toothy knife through every single one of her joints. The entire night she´d been washing the clothes Madeleine had given to her – a uniform jacket and a greatcoat – with the strict order to wash out all traces of dirt. That´s what he´d called it. Dirt.

She was to do it alone, and no one else was to know or even notice what she did. At the time Fantine had not dared to ask him any questions about it. She just went to work, frantically trying her best to obey his order to have all of this done and the clothes dry and pressed the next morning. It wasn´t easy with the low temperatures of winter, but somehow she managed it to get them at least halfway dry. Clean they were. She had not failed in that.

When she at last delivered the clothes to Madeleine´s room, barely able to keep on her feet any longer, he did not say a word. She was still too tired to ask him any questions, but she noticed a clean shirt lying on his bed, neatly folded, and he put the uniform above it.

Fantine left him, in total silence, storing this detail away in the back of her mind, for a closer examination. Later, when she had rested and could think clear again.

...

Barely an hour later, Madeleine and his staff left the house, ready to leave for the office at his factory. He´d handed the bag that contained Javert´s clothes to his assistant, Amelie, along with all the other bags she had to carry. It wouldn´t stand out much.

He was just about to enter the carriage, when a lonely figure crossing the street with quick strides, caught his attention.

Javert.

He was in civil clothes – not Madeleine´s – and damn, the sight was strange. Judging by his staff´s gazes, it wasn´t only strange to him.

"Javert." he greeted, as nonchalantly as possible. "I expected to meet you at the factory. Later." He unobtrusively gestured for the bag in Amelie´s hand.

"Everything is …"

"Monsieur le Maire." Javert talked over him, and while this interruption was already unusual enough for the man, his distraught tone was even more unusual. "I need to talk to you." he told Madeleine and his gaze was repressed. As if he was trying to hide a physical pain.

Madeleine hesitated. "Surely this can wait until we´re at the office."

He really didn´t want everyone to speculate why he suddenly changed his habits. No one had ever gotten an audience with him without making an appointment first, except there was a very good reason. And in this case, of course he could never share the reason with any of his staff members.

No. Javert would have to wait until they could talk at their official conference room. He would just …

And that was the moment Madeleine noticed the tiny beads of sweat on Javert´s forehead. The desperate furrow between his brows, the slight and almost unnoticeable quiver of his upper lip, the frantic tapping of his fingers to his own leg. The man was a wreck. Dear God.

"All right." Madeleine spoke, carefully. "I … I guess we have a few minutes. Thomás."

"Yes, Monsieur."

The guards stepped aside to allow the mayor and his inspector to pass, and reenter the house. All the way to the library Madeleine feared Javert might break down. But he didn´t. Not yet.

Fantine and Marianne were dusting off the shelves when they entered and he ordered them out, with not more than one word. He barely noticed Fantine´s tired but curious gaze, as she retrieved. And then he closed the door.

"What is it, Javert?" he asked. "I thought we were …"

"I can´t do it, Monsieur." Javert once again talked over him, and the shaking in his voice made every anger Madeleine might have felt upon such insolence, dissolve before it even came.

"Javert."

"I tried but …"

"You tried one night." Madeleine felt angry after all. What the hell was the matter with that man?

"What I did was a crime." Javert insisted. "And if I avoid my own responsibility, how can I keep wearing this uniform?"

Madeleine sighed. "We´ve been over this. What you did was not a crime. It was a mistake. One I am responsible for, not you."

"I did it." Javert shook his head, resolutely. "Not you. I have to …"

"You will do nothing." Madeleine stopped him, fiercely. "You hear me?"

"I am betraying everything I ever believed in. It´s not right to cover up what I did."

"We, Javert." Madeleine corrected and stepped closer to take the man by his shoulders. "We did. Never forget that. We are in this together."

But Javert was still shaking his head. "It was me." he insisted, yet again. "Not you. I need to turn myself in. You must charge me, sir. That alone is just."

The anger in Madeleine boiled over. How could a man be so self crucifying? How?

"And then?" he asked him, fuming. "You want to go to prison? Cause this is what waits for you. Prison, Javert!"

"I know."

"So you want to go there?"

"No. But if this is the just punishment, I must accept it."

Madeleine was mad enough by now, at so much stubbornness, to punch reason into Javert. But he didn´t. This man was ridiculous, nothing more.

"You don´t know what you´re talking about." he told him, dismissing the whole idea. "Do you even know what a life this would be?"

"I was a guard." Javert recalled, hollowly. "I know."

"Being a guard and being a prisoner are Two. Different. Things. You know that. Don´t pretend you´d know how it would be. You live with the lowest scum in the smallest spaces. You sleep in the stench of their piss and shit and decay, hoping by God it isn´t your own yet. You´d be forced to work until you break down. And as a former police man you´d be attacked by other inmates in a trice. You would not last long in prison, Javert, no matter how strong you are."

The former prison guard, current police inspector Javert held his gaze fixed on the ground. In shame, in pain, in desperation. Madeleine couldn´t have named all the emotions he saw in this gaze.

"I can´t just run away." Javert pressed out, and for a moment Madeleine almost feared the man would start crying.

"You won´t." he grabbed his shoulders again, made him look up, into his eyes. "You´ll stay right here. Live with your guilt. Take that as your punishment. Believe me this can be much worse than prison."

The broken man stared at him, astound, shocked. "You speak as if you know … Monsieur." he brought out and Madeleine took a step back, his gaze never leaving Javert, never decreasing in its intensity.

"I do." he said, and Javert blinked, startled. "You think I´m a saint, Javert? I´m not. I carry my own burden in life, just like every other man. Yes, I do know what it means to carry guilt that no one knows about. And I´m trying to make up for this guilt."

Javert regarded him, with a sad desperate frown, for a long time. "Is this the reason why you help me?" he then asked, startling Madeleine.

The mayor needed a moment to think. That was not a question he would have expected. He also didn´t expect that he actually wanted to answer the question, truthfully.

"Maybe." he said. "But I also do it because I believe it´s the right thing, Javert. It is the right thing. Javert. I am the one who committed a real crime, not you. You only tried to do your duty. And in a perfect world, people would see that. They wouldn´t see your parents and their past. They would see what I see. A dedicated police inspector, a good man. A loyal friend."

For a moment Madeleine was shocked himself about the effect his words had, and not only on Javert. At some point his hand had found its way back to Javert´s shoulder, as if that was exactly the place where it belonged.

"But the world isn´t perfect." he quickly went on. "The world is cruel and unforgiving. And in this world you would be punished for doing the right thing. The only thing you knew to do. In this world a man like you could end up in prison for something that wasn´t your fault. And I will not let this happen." His hand squeezed the shoulder under his palm. "You don´t deserve to go to prison."

When Javert answered his voice was barely there anymore. "I also don´t deserve to stay at this post. Monsieur le Maire. How can I keep up the law when I broke it myself? The very least you must do is dismiss me."

Madeleine glowered at Javert, holding this oh so pleading gaze of the man – pleading for punishment, who had ever heard such a ridiculous thing?

"No." he then said, simple as that, and turned away.

"But Monsieur le Maire …"

"I said no. I need you at your post, Javert. And I don´t wish any discussion about this."

The inspector obeyed. He didn´t discuss. He simply lowered his gaze.

"Take this as your punishment." Madeleine repeated. "You think you don´t deserve it. So pain yourself with this order to remain at your post. Eat yourself up as much as you like. But you will stay."

Again Javert´s voice was choked. "Yes, Monsieur le Maire."

"Promise." Madeleine demanded and at last Javert looked up, meeting his gaze, startled. "Swear it to me." he clarified. "Swear you won´t do anything. Anything that could … that could rob me of my best inspector."

He could see how his words left Javert speechless. Thunderstruck. The man had to close his eyes and take a deep breath before he could answer.

"I swear." he said, but his eyes stayed on the ground, still so ashamed.

And without knowing why and how it even happened, Madeleine found himself reaching out for the man, and pull him into his arms, for a protective embrace. And maybe he was using a tiny bit more force than it was actually necessary. Just maybe.

"I´m so sorry …" he breathed, against the man´s shoulder. "That I did this to you."

He could feel Javert´s irritation, his natural reaction of defense and distancing. But he did not try to pull away. "It wasn´t your fault, Monsieur." he spoke, his voice clearly confused.

"I am the one who committed a real crime." the words fell out before Madeleine could stop them. "Not you. Not you."

Javert exhaled. "Yes, Monsieur le Maire."

Madeleine released the startled man, looking him into the eyes.

"Are we good?" he asked, lacking any better words, and yet again, Javert answered with his usual:

"Yes, Monsieur le Maire."

A relieved smile spread on the mayor´s lips. That was the man he knew.

"Good." he padded Javert´s cheek, before he finally let go of him. He still had no idea what had gotten into him to act so intimate. As if Javert was a child that needed to be comforted. Ridiculous. He must have been out of his mind.

"I still need to give you your uniform back." he diverted the matter to business he could control, and Javert seemed as grateful for it as he was. "Come to my office later." he ordered him. "I can´t give you the bag in front of everyone. It would raise too many questions."

"Yes, Monsieur le Maire."

...

Outside Fantine could hear the two men at last walk towards the door, and quickly hurried away, hiding in the shadow, until they were gone. Whatever it was these two had done together last night, it got curiouser and curiouser.

Later that day, she snuck upstairs, into the mayor´s bedroom, and began looking around. She didn´t know what she expected to find, but something just told her to keep looking. So she did. When she didn´t find anything unusual though, her irritation grew. And so did her frustration. She had been so sure.

The last place she searched – and that one she only searched for good measure before she would give up – was the mayor´s nightstand.

It was the most unlikely place for something secret to be hidden, because it was obvious, and silly and just too plain to be a real hiding place. But when she opened the drawer, her eyes fell on something that made her world stop dead for a second.

It was a shirt. A white shirt, folded but only to make it fit into the drawer. And on the collar and cuffs there were dark red stains.

Blood!

Fantine did not need to know the details. She knew enough in order to know what she had to do. She grabbed the shirt and threw the drawer shut with a push of her knee, hurrying out of the room before anyone could find her there.

...

When Javert entered the mayor´s office at the factory, he was a little calmer. His heart was still racing, way too much, his head still swimming with the shadow of uncertainty hanging over him, clouding his sight for every reasonable strategy.

The clear analytic mind was gone, replaced by that of a trapped animal, that can smell the hunter closing in, knowing that the only two options were fight or flight. And since Javert was Javert and not an animal, he was in an even worse place than the proverbial animal. Because he had neither of those choices. He couldn´t fight – the law? – and he surely couldn´t run – from the law, dear God! Javert the man, was trapped and he had no way out of this.

Except for the mayor. The man who had promised to protect him.

And what a strange feeling it was to be so dependent on another man. To be so in his hands. No matter how benevolent these hands were, how much Javert believed him, when Madeleine said, he wanted to help him. It still felt strange. It felt exposed and helpless and powerless. Javert did not like any of those feelings.

He´d always been in charge of his own life, his own fate. To hand this over to someone else now was hell. In a way it had been easier to just accept that he would not be able to avoid punishment. Even if that would have meant prison. Or death. Anything would have been easier to deal with than this uncertainty. Because even if the judgment had been death, it would have been something he knew, something he could understand and expect until it was enforced. This situation right now though … he didn´t understand it at all. He wasn´t sure he ever would.

When he met the mayor´s gaze he saw uncertainty in those eyes too. But not for the same reasons. The mayor was uncertain for him, Javert. He was worried. And he probably had good reason to be.

"Thomás, please give us a minute, will you?" Madeleine spoke to his guard and the young man frowned but left the room. Javert could feel his suspicions towards him. But there was nothing he could do about it. Only one more weight on the scale of lady justice, that slowly outweighed his righteousness. How could this ever happened?

Madeleine came to him, a leather bag in hand and gave it to him with a smile.

"All cleaned and pressed, just like new." he promised, as if none of this was anything unusual. Javert closed his eyes and forced himself to nod.

"Javert?"

He opened his eyes at the cautious voice and met the worried gaze of his superior. Genuinely worried. Not pretentious like some other superiors he had known over the years. This man here was really, truly trying to help him. Him.

"I´m fine." he brought out, but Madeleine was not convinced so easily.

"You sure?"

"I … I will report back to duty." Javert finally managed, much to his mayor´s displeasure.

"You took the day off, didn´t you?" he asked. "Like I told you?"

"I did. But … it is better I go back."

He tried to turn away, to take his leave, but Madeleine would not let him go. The lightest touch to his elbow was enough to keep him in place. There had been times when even an iron grip of the strongest man wouldn´t have been enough, if Javert really wanted to leave.

But how could a man still be sure he knew what he wanted, when his entire life lay in pieces before him?

"Javert?" Madeleine asked again, and Javert could read the question in his eyes.

He didn´t know how but somehow this gaze was the reason why Javert finally managed it to pull himself together.

"Don´t worry." he said, facing the mayor straight on, and at last Madeleine understood. The faintest smile grazed his lips. Not even really a smile. Just a tiny deepening of the little wrinkles around his eyes. Javert lowered his gaze.

"I just fear I won´t be able to stop thinking, if I don´t go back to work." he explained. "Monsieur le Maire."

"I see."

Javert looked up again, into the man´s eyes, and said: "Thank you, sir."

He barely managed the words.

Madeleine nodded.

"I´ll be here." he promised. "In case you need anything."

"I know."

The mayor nodded, and finally let go of his elbow. It was a strange thing, that Javert saw guilt in Madeleine´s eyes, while in fact he had been the one who had killed a man in cold blood last night. A very strange thing indeed. And like everything else in this whole thing, he did not understand it.

But neither did Madeleine.

...

The day went by slowly, crawling almost, and for the first time since he could remember, Madeleine felt a pulsing headache because of the icy cold wind. When he got home he retrieved to his room, this time not because he had letters to write, but for the simple need to be left alone.

Only someone would not grant him the solitude he needed.

When Fantine stepped in, he glanced up, irritated.

"Monsieur?" she addressed him, cautiously, but he did not care about anything she could want.

"What is it, Fantine?" he snapped. "I´m busy."

Why did he even allow her to just enter like that? She was not his assistant anymore. She was a servant, nothing more. But before he could snarl at her to never dare again entering his room unasked, she closed the door behind herself, safely and unafraid. That was the moment when Madeleine realized, something was going on.

"I just wanted to inform you …" she began, watching him just as closely as he watched her. "That I found something peculiar today. It was in your nightstand, sir."

The muscles in his body tensed, ready to jump, but it wasn´t until she said the word shirt, that he truly jumped out of his chair, to swirl around and check his nightstand. The drawer was empty.

NO!

"It was blood-stained." Fantine spoke behind him, dragging him back to reality.

And her voice. It sounded from far away, way too calm, as if she simply informed him about a curious fact he as the master of the house should probably know about. And just this insolence, the fact that she dared to mock him like that, made him furious. When he jumped up, to approach her, she finally realized her mistake.

"What did you do with it?" he demanded to know. "Did you wash it?"

The moment of shock, as quickly as it had come, passed, and all that was left in her eyes, was a grim smile.

"Oh no." she shook her head. Her voice was shaking too. But not with fear.

Madeleine´s hand shot forward, grabbing her arm with iron fingers. "Where is it?"

"I hid it." she told him right into his face. "Gave it to a friend of mine."

His first irritation was defeated by this last sentence and he laughed. "What friend?" he asked. "You have no friends."

Fantine narrowed her eyes. "I do." she insisted. "There´s a gamin in the streets, that was quite fond of the idea to do me a favor."

Madeleine´s fingers seized her skinny arm in his fury. "What are you up to, woman?" he hissed, but his threat, neither the physical nor the mental one seemed to scare her in any way.

"Strange." was all she said. "I asked myself the same question about you. And this inspector." She held his gaze, not showing any pain at all, even though he knew his grip must hurt like hell. "You two did something and you´re covering it up." she spoke it out. "I bet it´s something you would do anything to keep it a secret. Wouldn´t you? Wouldn´t you?!"

Madeleine yanked her up, closer to his face. When his nose almost touched hers, he snarled at her: "Are you trying to extort me?" the next word he shouted into her face: "YOU?!"

Fantine flinched only for a second. But her gaze remained hard and defiant.

"Unbelievable, isn´t it?" she said. "That someone could be so desperate."

Madeleine pushed her away, making her stumble against the door. For a moment she struggled to keep her balance, hands searching for hold. But only for a moment.

"Where is that shirt?" he demanded to know.

"It´s safe."

"I want it back!"

"I bet you do."

Her gaze was so insolent, so provoking, he did not think any longer, and just jumped, hands grabbing both of her arms, pressing her into the door with force. She panted as her back collided with the wood, but the smile was still on her face.

"I can get hold of it whenever I want." she told him. "I bet the police would be very curious about it."

One of his hands shot up to her throat, making her gasp for real, eyes bulging out in sudden fear.

"You will tell me where I can find this shirt. Now."

"Or what?" she croaked. "You kill me? Go ahead. A body right here in your house would be something to explain, Monsieur le Maire. If I don´t meet this boy again tomorrow morning, the shirt will be delivered to the police for sure."

Madeleine´s fingers closed around her throat on their own account. Oh God he wanted to crush her for all this insolence. For her daring attitudes, for the simple fact that someone like her existed and dared it to look him in the eyes like that. Daring. Provoking. Demanding to be treated as equal. How preposterous.

Before him the woman croaked, choked, hands desperately trying to pry his hands off her throat, but unsuccessfully. Slowly her resistance weakened, losing the fight as air got refused to enter her lungs. Her lids fluttered like that of a dying butterfly. Soon. Just a little longer and her insolence would come to an end. For good. Soon now.

Just before her eyes rolled back even further he let go of her, stepping back while she sucked in the air, desperately panting, coughing, hand gripping her throat. Her other hand was reaching behind, but only for hold, not to reach the door handle. She was still not thinking about running away. She was still not scared enough to believe he might actually truly kill her. Oh, she had no idea. No idea at all what he could have done to her.

For a moment the precious dagger in the drawer of his desk grazed his thoughts unasked, but he pushed it away.

"What do you want?" he asked her, and when she only looked at him, taking her time to calm her own breathing, he lost his patience.

"Speak!"

"I want my daughter." was her cryptic answer, almost too quiet for him to even hear the words.

A laugh escaped him. "What?"

"I want my daughter." Fantine repeated, so determined, it couldn´t be a mistake. "Here." she clarified. "You will get her from the inn and let her live here with me."

Madeleine stared at her, shaking his head in total disbelieve. She could not be serious. This was ridiculous. How could she even dare to ask something as impossible as this? He was laughing, but she would not let him.

"You will give her her own room." she demanded. "Both of us, and you will pay me, at least enough to let her believe this is a respectable job I´m doing. You will take her in and give her a chance to live. Better than me. You do that and this shirt will stay where it is. If you don´t …" she halted, only for a second. "Well, you use your fantasy."

Madeleine stood there, facing her, confronted with a face that was as hard as a stone, almost matching his, and he had no idea what to think. Was this real? Was this truly happening? When had he lost control over his carefully calculated plan? When?

Fantine did not waver. She didn´t speak any more words, but her gaze would not leave him either. It was hard, it was intense and it was demanding an answer. Yes or no. Secret or Truth. Back or Forth? Madeleine decided to take his chance.

"All right." he pressed out. "You´ll get what you want. If I get that shirt."

"Oh no." Fantine was seriously laughing at him. "I think I´m gonna hold onto that." she said. "You know. Just for safety."

Again he advanced upon her, threatening, but this time she did not flinch at all. She simply held his gaze and against his own nature, he stopped, knowing there was nothing he could do.

"You meet that boy tomorrow?" he asked at last, and when she nodded: "I´ll go with you."

The expected nervousness did not occur. Instead Fantine just shrugged, indifferently. "You can do that." she said. "He won´t bring the shirt."

Madeleine raised his hand instinctively, rage boiling up again, and Fantine flinched back, also on instinct. And that was the moment he realized what he was doing. That hitting her would make no difference. None at all. So he took down his arm.

"I told him to meet me." Fantine obviously took his decision not to go through with it for an invitation to keep speaking. "And if I don´t show, he shall bring the shirt to the police, and tell them where it´s from. And everything else I told him."

Madeleine felt his chest tighten in feral fear. "You told him?" he repeated, and something in Fantine´s eyes changed. She must have seen what this idea had caused in him. Must have realized how dangerous this was.
"I wrote it down." she rephrased it. "In a letter. He keeps that one too."

"He doesn´t know?" Madeleine asked for confirmation again, and Fantine gulped, gaze never changing.

"No." she affirmed. "He doesn´t. You can believe me. But he has everything the police needs to really look into you, Monsieur le Maire, and you can believe that as well. I took good care about the details in my letter."

"I believe you did." Madeleine rasped and for a moment the two of them were engaged in a staring contest, held in total silence.

"So you just meet him to make sure nothing happens to you tonight." Madeleine at last broke the silence. "Clever."

"And …" she added. "To pay him."

The mayor snorted. Of course. More extortion. Why not?

"How much?"

"Five sous."

He wiped his face. Would this day never end?

"All right." he snapped. "But I´ll still go with you. Just in case you´re a better bluffer than I thought you were."

Fantine nodded, solemnly, and took a step back, towards the door, like a perfectly good servant. "There are a lot of things you don´t know about me." she said. "Sir."

Madeleine´s eyes bored into hers. "Obviously." he hissed, but Fantine did not seem to hear the hostile tone.


I just wanna repeat once more, that I really appreciate reviews. Feedback, you know.

That´s all.