A/N: Thanks to those who are still reading and following this tale! Second to the last chapter here

Chapter 11: Reckonings

When Gavroche returned upstairs to the apartment in order to see to his captives, he was hardly surprised to be greeted by his father's baleful glare. "You'd break your mother's heart if she could see you," Thenardier muttered. "After what these police did to turn us out into the street, you turn into one of them?"

Gavroche shrugged as he looked to where Beaufort was still insensible and sprawled on the floor. "She always had a thing to say about fancy feathering."

The former innkeeper made as if to spit on the floor, but he relented at the last moment as he glanced at Beaufort. "He would have killed me if I had kept my pipe shut. He came to me a year ago, and since then he has robbed me of my peace!" he hissed. "Now be a good boy and save me from him. You've got a gun, I see."

Gavroche felt a frisson of disgust course down his back at his father's words. "What a messy business!"

"So you'll leave me to him?" Thenardier asked. "I, a defenceless old man, with this killer?"

"I'll leave you walking about so you can explain something to the rest," Gavroche answered. "There are a good lot of folk like the Brujons who'd want to know who sang, and you have the score to it."

Thenardier blanched as he strained against the handcuffs. "You would dare leave me to them! You've certainly learned a lot from your sister, that bitch! Ever since those revolutionaries put ideas in her head, she's turned her back on her own, and you're no better!"

"Azelma and the momes might say different," the younger man pointed out. "You imitated Rousseau too well for their liking."

"At least I set those brats up in a genteel situation," Thenardier spat. "Of course had I been as well heeled as you are, I would have certainly done better-"

Gavroche clucked his tongue even as he heard Beaufort stirring. "Easy there, Citizen, we are waiting for our carriage," he replied.

"Consider this your last day in the service. It's the least you deserve," Beaufort growled. "Like father, like son, indeed!"

"He'll protect me from the likes of you!" Thenardier jeered. "That's what we decent folk do; we look out for our own."

At that moment Gavroche heard the rattling of a fiacre from the street, prompting him to smooth out the creases in his uniform and dust off his hat. Yet as soon as the apartment door opened he fell silent on realizing who had come all the way from the Rue du Pontoise. "Good day Prefect Delessert," he managed to say as he made a snappy salute to the burly man standing in the doorway.

Delessert's steely eyes narrowed as he took stock of the two handcuffed men in the room. "Unfortunately there is another urgent matter that requires Inspector Bahorel's urgent attention. Now explain this!"

Beaufort grunted as he raised himself to a sitting position. "This boy is in league with this conman you see here!" he said loudly to Delessert. "They ambushed and tied me up here!"

"Then why am I tied up as well, you booby?" Thenardier retorted.

"I am speaking only to him," Delessert barked before glaring at Gavroche. "Why have you placed them both under arrest?"

"For going after my person, and for conspiring to murder a citizenness," Gavroche answered. "I came to call on Citizen Beaufort, and I did not find him at his apartment downstairs. I took a look up here and went knocking when I heard a chair fall over."

"You had reason to believe that someone was assaulted?"

"More of on the verge of it. I found Inspector Beaufort collaring Citizen Thenardier."

Thenardier burst out laughing. "So see, he's here to save his father after all! There is my wondrous boy!"

"You are extending your prison term with every word," Delessert warned him. "Now what have you to say to this?" he addressed Beaufort.

"I was making a friendly call and Citizen Thenardier tried to bribe me to keep his part in murder silent. He had wanted his eldest daughter killed," Beaufort replied cruelly. "I asked for Detective Thenadier's help in arresting this man, but he refused to cooperate, and he handcuffed me here."

"You traitor! You Brutus!" Thenardier howled, trying in vain to kick at Beaufort.

"Sit still. We haven't room for you at our Prefecture's infirmary," Delessert warned him. He looked pointedly at Gavroche. "Now you will kindly assist me to bring both our friends downstairs; I have not yet paid the fiacre driver's fee, and we need to be at the Prefecture shortly-"

Beaufort went livid. "You are arresting me too?".

"I had meant to call on you to clarify some questions that have come up as a result of Inspector Bahorel's questioning Barrecrosse," Delessert said sternly. "Pray do not further perjure yourself."

Beaufort went deathly pale at these words. "You-side with them? This is exactly how things went wrong years ago, with all of Vidocq's and Gisquet's prattling about the need for evidence. These men have judged themselves!"

"You are not a law onto yourself, I would bid you remember it!" Delessert said in an undertone as he forced Thenardier to his feet and ushered him out the door to the back stairway.

In the meantime Gavroche made his way to Beaufort with every intention of half dragging him out of the room. "You did for Glorieux. I found him near my apartment," he muttered as he ushered Beaufort towards the stairs.

"He was guilty of other crimes," Beaufort sneered. "The Prefecture will pay long and dear for tolerating such miscreants on the streets, beginning with you."

Before Gavroche could jump back he already felt a searing pain in his left side, enough to force him to his knees. He felt Beaufort's boot at the small of his back followed by the feeling of falling. The young man managed to throw up his hands to keep his head from striking the floor as he fell onto the stairway landing. From afar he heard Delessert's swearing followed by running footsteps. Sounds of a struggle broke out at the top of the stairs, ended only by the sickening thud of a body on the floor.

Gavroche soon felt a hand on his flank, clearly stemming the flow of blood there. "Keep your eyes open. We'll get you to a doctor soon enough," Delessert ordered. "You there, get the fiacre driver here! We need to bring this man to a doctor!"

"There are bandages in my coat-"Gavroche managed to say through the searing pain and the feel of something warm soaking through his coat. He winced as he felt Delessert pulling the liniments from their hiding place before clumsily pressing them to the wound. "What about Beaufort-"

"Has gotten his due," Delessert said tersely.

'I thought so as much,' Gavroche almost said even as he felt himself being lifted by several pairs of hands the rest of the way down the stairs. At the corner of his eye he could just see two fiacres already waiting in the street. Thenardier was being shoved into one, followed by Beaufort's once again senseless form. "Where are we going?" he asked Delessert.

"Hotel Dieu. It's far closer than Val du Grace," the Prefect said as he helped lift Gavroche into the second fiacre's backseat. He chafed Gavroche's wrist. "Stay strong. You're not through yet."

Gavroche managed a quick salute. "Understood, Prefect."