All good things must come to an end, so they say, and Rougemont had never understood the expression quite as perfectly as he did this morning. Last night's festivities had evaporated with the morning dew and now Rougemont was 'back on the chain gang' so to speak. A briefing at Rue Pontoise was never his idea of a good time, but a briefing at Rue Pontoise headed by Jolivet, who expected him to make constructive suggestions despite his being hung over and lovesick, well . . . Frankly that was justification for suicide. The dreadful February weather - freezing and with the rain coming down in ropes - did nothing to lift his spirits. No. 14, Rue Pontoise was one of those badly designed buildings than are made unbearable by any slight caprice of the weather. Today it managed to be both ridiculously cold and unbearable damp. The erratic behaviour of the stoves didn't help in the slightest. Rougemont supposed this to be the reason behind Javert's absence. He was probably engaged in the running battle with the heating which he pursued with almost as much vigour as his ongoing war against the forces of crime. Although Rougemont was grateful for the Inspector's concern - soon the stoves would be back up and running (for about a fortnight, before moving on to 'too hot', 'dangerous' and 'busted again' in a cycle only to be broken when they were switched off for good in April) - he couldn't help but wish the Inspector present. Not from any innate love of the man's company, you understand, but simply because Jolivet was making such a terrible job of things. Despite being long winded, Javert's briefings were always at least interesting and informative. Rougemont looked around at the troop of bored faces grouped around the table. Pontellier was leaning back on his chair, looking at Jolivet through narrowed eyes and picking lint of his uniform in a conspicuously bored manner. There was really not much love lost between the two handsome Sergeants - Le Blond and Le Brune they were nicknamed, after the popular song.
"So, er, what the Prefect wants is the opportunity to, well, to observe the Parisian student body as a whole, both the subversive and the . . .the . . the not subversive. If anyone has any ideas on how we could do this . . .anyone at all?"
Vavasseur sneezed, Pasteur stifled a yawn. Relieved that it wasn't just him that would rather be anywhere but here, Rougemont began to daydream. His reverie, of course, centred on the divine Olympia. The details probably aren't necessary here. Suffice to say Rougemont's mind was considerable occupied with Olympia's black hair and white skin but not at all with her russet dress. He thought of a comment Grantaire had made the night before "I really can't think of anything I wouldn't give to see Olympia naked". What wouldn't he give to see
"Olympia naked", he murmured absently
That really hadn't been meant for public consumption. Everyone in the room stared at him as if he'd just flung a dead rat into the centre of the table. There was a moment of perfect crystalline silence, and then Pontellier drawled
"Thank you for that insight into your squalid little mind Rougemont, we all truly appreciated it. If you have any more brilliant ideas do be sure to let us know"
Now was the time for some seriously quick thinking. Rougemont breathed in deeply and prepared to dig himself out of the pit.
"I only meant that . . .well, Olympia naked would get every student in Paris together."
"I think we all know what you meant, you guttersnipe - " Jolivet interjected in a prissy, irritated sort of voice.
"Now now Sergeant Jolivet, hold your horses a moment.", came a voice from the door. They turned and saw Javert, leaning on the doorframe and running a finger absently through his sidewhiskers. None of them had noticed him, although he had clearly been there for some time. Stepping into the room and sitting down, he continued.
"After all, Rougemont probably has the best insight into the student mind out of all of us -"
"Monsieur l'Inspecteur will recall that I was a law student myself once." Pontellier protested
"Yes, and you've grown up considerably since then. And I don't notice anyone's come up with anything better in all the time you've been fannying around in here. Carry on lad."
Grateful that the Inspector had scented an idea where the others had only found an obscenity, Rougemont began to spin as he never spun before.
"Well, what I was thinking was this. We want every student in Paris together, right? So we can observe them, take a look at which ones seem to be - undesirable. But we also want to observe them in their natural state, right? At their ease. I was thinking, what's the one thing guaranteed to get any student - any young man at all - to come along and be in a good mood? Why, the most beautiful woman in France with no clothes on. I'm not sure how we'll get Olympia to take her clothes off for us - "
"Oh, I'm sure I can find a way of persuading her." Javert said with a strange sort of half smile. Rougemont looked at him enquiringly, but the Inspector seemed disinclined to expand on this cryptic statement so he carried on.
"I'm sure it will work then. I was having a conversation along these lines with one of the subversives only last night."
"Speaking of subversives - do you have this week's report for me, Rougemont? The Superintendent wants to see it."
Rougemont handed the document over.
"Thank you. I'll take it over now and see what he has to say about this little bagatelle whilst I'm there. Keep thinking."
With that he left, pausing to pass an enquiring hand over the top of the stove and frown as he did so.
"Now, one important question; is Olympia the most beautiful woman in France?' It's something I would hotly contest." Pontellier remarked, appearing perfectly happy to go along with the idea now it had been endorsed by the Inspector. In fact, his usually acerbic manner had mellowed and he seemed rather affable. His comment produced a good ten minutes of noisy arguing amongst the men an the relative merits of Olympia compared to Lune-de-Miel, La Polonaise, Rosalinde and 'that blonde girl who waits tables chez Michel'.
"Olympia is a goddess!", Rougemont proclaimed theatrically (clearly Grantaire was catching), "but I still don't see how we're going to get hr to take her clothes off."
"Yeah," Vavasseur chipped in, "I mean, the Inspector's brilliant in his own mad sort of way, but he doesn't exactly have a way with the ladies." This comment raised a few sniggers
"Oh, he knows her." Pontellier said as casually as one might remark on the weather.
Rougemont could almost feel his jaw drop. The Inspector knew Olympia! Rougemont knew that she had been a streetwalker before becoming successful. Meaning there were only two ways Javert could have met her, neither of them appealing
"Javert knows Olympia?" he said stupidly
"Yeah, they've got a history," said Pontellier with barely concealed laughter.
"God yes," exclaimed an old hand named Minot, "they hate each other don't they?"
"Cordial dislike might be a better way of putting it"
"I really fail to see how that helps though Sir. And how does he know her?" Rougemont asked with morbid curiosity.
"Who taught Olympia to sing?"
"Gloriana" said Rougemont, who, when it came to Olympia, knew his stage trivia.
"Indeed."
"A sad loss to the stage". reflected Minot.
"Quite - though I doubt she's missing us as much as we're missing her. Anyway, the Inspector met Olympia through Gloriana", continued Pontellier
"And how does he know her?!" Rougemont suddenly felt that he understood all the unfairness life had to offer. That a man like Javert should know (however you meant the word) two such legends of the Parisian stage - it was just wrong!
"Is there something he's not telling us about how he spends his spare time?!"
Everyone in the office erupted into laughter and groans of mock disgust.
"Not a picture I wanted in my head mate!" guffawed Jean-Marie Bonnet.
"Quite the jealous lover aren't you? Now use your brains lads - can you really see Inspector Javert entangled with a courtesan? She was Javert's neighbour before she became Gloriana."
Frankly Rougemont was more disturbed by the idea that Javert had not got involved with these women when given half a chance than by the idea that he had been involved with them.
"Olympia's a right cow but there's one person she'll do anything for - Nana. That's who M'sieur Javert will be asking.". He paused before adding fondly, "Nana's great - gets my vote for most beautiful woman in France every time."
"Nana?"
"Marianna Tellford as was - Nana to her friends - that's Gloriana's real name. Knew her quite well before she got all gentrified" Seeing Rougemont's disbelieving face he added tauntingly, "I've met Olympia too - didn't like her much."
Rougemont felt he was going mad. How could Pontellier - who, despite his good looks, was well on the way to bachelorhood a la mode de Javert - dismiss the Rose of Pantin with the words 'right cow - didn't like her much' ?