The smell of thin, acidic perfume suffocated Javert as he sat in the furthest corner of a purple satin settee. He tried desperately not to gag, fighting the urge to fan his face in a meek attempt for clear air. The stench was acrid as the perfume mixed with the thick cloud of smoke puffing out of the small enamel pipe the brothel matron sucked constantly on between her overly ruby lips. Bright red lips popped against a face entirely caked in white, a face powdered and bleached like the aristocrats of a hundred years ago. Even her eyes were nearly white, the coloring so faintly blue, that it disappeared into the rest of her eyes. The light red hair that clung about her neck in curls lent coloring to the aging woman, but even that showed streaks of white, as though the bleaching spread from her effaced features. Only her red lips and the tints of rough on her cheeks gave the matron a semblance of life. With an enthusiastic sigh of contentment, Madam Rosette sucked deeply on her pipe, releasing another cloud of smoke in Javert's direction.
She smirked delightedly at the Inspector's obvious discomfort, his thick features twisting in disgust. In her joyous fascination, she slid the pipe stem over her bottom lip, drawing in another breath of her cheap Persian tobacco. The smoke slinked out from the red fullness as Madame Rosette raised her penciled-in eyebrow, oozing seduction with every minute move she made.
"Care for a smoke, Monsieur? Something to ease your time away?" She laughed to herself as the Inspector sniffed in derision.
"I don't smoke," he half barked, half coughed in reply.
Madame Rosette settled herself against the back of her desk chair, propping her heeled boots on the whitewashed writing desk before her. "Bet there is quite a lot that you don't do, Monsieur l'inspecteur, but cutting deals with whorehouses falls not into that category, no?"
The woman's impertinence made Javert smirk, his arms folding tightly across his chest. "Would you rather I simply had you all arrested immediately? I could you know." His voice resounded coldly across the room, threatening in its lack of feeling.
Madame Rosette paused mid puff, and her drawn-in brows furrowed over the narrowed whites of her eyes. She left forth a trickling chuckle and a mouthful of smoke. "You're not very good at bluffing, Monsieur. With that precious criminal I'm keeping for you up in my attic, you need us, no?"
"I would hardly risk losing my prey by gathering the net which ensnares it, Madame. You are correct." Javert leaned forward in his seat, resting his hands upon his knees and never once releasing eye contact with the matron opposite him. He would not allow for the smallest negotiation now; his authority, his superiority between them must remain resolute and assured. "You have done superbly, Madame, to keep Tournot so comfortably occupied here, and you will be well compensated, so long as the arrest runs smoothly tonight. My agent and I will handle everything from now on."
"Ah, oui, the matter of your mysterious agent, La Comptesse." Madame Rosette returned her boots to the floor, dusting off the white of her desktop ever so attentively. "I am rather put out that she did not accompany you here. I would rather like to meet this woman."
"Unnecessary, Madame. What is necessary, however, is your assurance that Tournot and his gang are watched and that we will have uninterrupted access to the front corner room as we agreed." Javert refrained from grinning as the matron stood from her desk, crossing the plush scarlet carpet to stand before him. Rising from the settee, he stood at his full height, careful not to let his gaze move from hers. Nothing would slip through this trap if all was in his power.
Madame Rosette stopped a decent distance away, stretching out her gnarled hand. "All is as we agreed in matters of business, Inspector." Her glossy red lips drew back into well-practiced smile as his hand shook hers firmly once. "Besides, my fear of you greatly outweighs that of Tournot's gang at their worst."
Stepping back, Javert allowed himself a self-contented smirk. "Is that so, Madame?" he led her to continue.
"Bien sûr, Inspector," her voice rolled and lilted, and all the while, her pale eyes never once shied from his gaze. "At the worst, Tournot could take my enterprise's money or snuff out some of my employees. But you, Inspector, you threaten liberty. How easy it would be for you to..." Her voice trailed off, and only then did Javert completely realize how close she had approached. The paleness of her eyes suddenly reminded him of another more vibrant pair, especially as the matron issued forth a cascading chuckle. "Well, Monsieur, let us say my allegiances lie with the most entrepreneurially assuring side, no?"
Javert's sneer could not be stopped from twisting across his broad face. All traces of thin accolades disappeared. "Glad you see it as such," his voice growled deeply. He turned his back to her swiftly, gripping his billed cap tightly in his fist as he crossed to the door.
"Pardon me, Inspector. I do have one more request to put to you," that silken voice called to his retreating form.
Javert turned, finding Madame Rosette once again sitting behind her antique writing desk. Reluctantly, he approached her once more. "I fail to see what more you could demand, Madame." He attempted to suppress the intolerant gravel that grated his voice.
"I want personal assurances, Monsieur, should you fail tonight. I..."
"I will not fail so long as you meet every once of our prearranged agreements." His green eyes flashed with an intensity that instantly dried the words in Madame Rosette's mouth, and she swallowed to steady herself. He laughed harshly once. "I believe you will understand the potential results should failure result from mishaps on your end, Madame Rosette."
She titled her head in a slow nod, forcing a ruby smile across her bleached and powdered face.
Setting the cap back atop his long hair, Javert gave as smoothly false a smile as he could. "I do not mean to end this conference between us on a threatening note, but as you understand, it is simply good business," he added another bark of a laugh, "no?"
"But of course, Inspector. Forgive my audacity, then, if I make a final business request of you in the certainty of your success." Her withered hands toyed with the enamel of her pipe again, dashing the remaining charred tobacco into a small porcelain dish. The inspector seemed ruffled by the delicate chink she made; his irritation gave her the most charming tickle of delight within her.
"You see, Monsieur, I cannot help but feel put out that I have been denied meeting this mysterious assistant of yours. She must be remarkable if you trust her to seduce and connive a confession from a... hardened... murderer—" her ruby lips smirked broadly—"if you pardon the unintentional double entendre."
His face gave not the slightest reaction, but Madame Rosette knew well enough how to read men with such a profession as she boasted. The male sex's nerves were easy enough to prick. And besides, it was far too amusing to twist the mighty Inspector and make him squirm.
Javert impassively titled his head ever so slightly to the right. "Madame la Comptesse has my full confidence. I don't see how this concerns you, however."
"Must I repeat that it is for business reasons, Inspector?" Madame Rosette began to toy with the grey-tipped ends of her faintly red hair. "I'm merely suggesting that perhaps La Comptesse's talents are being put to... misguided use. I could use an undaunted woman in my industry. Can you think of any reason she would not prefer to work for pleasure and profit rather than for the law?" At that moment, her pale, liquid eyes flashed up from her hand's preoccupations. "Any chance she would leave you to work in my trade?"
The Inspector's nostrils flared wide, a barely suppressed sneer slowly morphed into that same forced smile from before. "You may rest assured, Madame, that there is no chance of that. She answers to me alone for numerous reasons. These reasons are not your business—" he squared his shoulders broadly and grinned— "and neither is she." Then, he took one quick and shallow nod, never once breaking his eyes from hers.
Madame Rosette flicked her hair behind her shoulder with a hummed sort of laugh. "I will see you both once this is finished then, no?"
Javert remained resolutely silent as he left the room, fighting the urge to answer 'no' to her thin question. Shutting the door, he groaned inwardly and set himself down the flight of stairs and along a musty corridor. The flashes of nearly colorless eyes appeared like echoes of deep blue in his troubled thoughts.
As rarely as it ever occurred, Javert's insides knotted in anxiety and twisted in dread he could not shake. Assurance and confidence were simple enough to profess, but in constant need of affirmation. And Cécelie, alone, could offer such affirmation.