In the Underground
Javert felt a dizziness behind his eyes, making his lids heavy. The deep breath he took was not enough to chase away the exhaustion. Not completely. But he was far from admitting that.
His hand shoved the glass away, as if it knew it was partly the Cognac´s fault that his strength was abandoning him.
"You could need some rest." Vidocq suggested. "You´ve been through a lot as it seems, so …"
"What I need, is for you to let me finish." Javert talked over him. "I need you to know what happened last night. Because I´ll need your help … to find the man who set this fire."
Vidocq regarded Javert for a moment, uncertain, probably considering if it was a good idea to object. In the end he just sighed.
"I listen."
And Javert was sure he would.
"We came to see you the next morning." he started again, and gave Vidocq a second to admit his own failure, maybe even apologize. It would be the least he could do.
"I guess I wasn´t the most polite guy that day." the burly spy said, and Javert had to restrain himself.
"You were out of the door before we even had a chance to come in."
"I had been ordered to the mayor´s office on short notice." Vidocq explained, defensively. "They said they might close my office before we even got a chance to start the business. That would have kicked you guys out of the job too."
"We never asked for that job." Javert growled. "And a: Sorry, not now. Is hardly what I´d call not being the most polite."
"I´m sorry." Vidocq still sounded defensive.
Javert simply lowered his gaze, not willing to fight about things that were done. "It wasn´t my idea to ask for your help anyway. It was once again Valjean who thought you´d be in any way useful. After he saw his mistake I took him back to the theater. To keep investigating."
Javert halted for a second and a tiny smirk crept over his lips. He hadn´t expected to find something right away. But admitting that wouldn´t have taught Valjean that he, Javert, had been right all along. Right?
...
A whole bunch of people was gathered together at the tiny restaurant, standing in a circle, discussing as if they faced the world´s most important question. The real reason though turned out to be a boy. Valjean´s little employee. And the kid seemed very distraught. His eyes went wide when he spotted the two of them. And the adult beside him instantly stepped before him, shielding the kid.
"Are you the father of this boy?" Valjean asked, and the man shook his head.
"No." he regarded them both with a mixture of anger and distrust. "But we´re friends."
"I saw your house." the kid shoved himself past his protector. His gaze was full of fear and sorrow and his voice so quiet, it was almost inaudible. "The mademoiselle?"
Seeing the tears in the boy´s eyes, Javert knew what would happen next. And Valjean, predictable as he was, promptly did it. He went down to his knees.
"Dear boy. You don´t have to worry." he assured him. "She´s fine. We´re all fine. It …" he searched Javert´s gaze for a second. "It was just an accident. A very tragic accident."
Something about the kid´s reaction told Javert that he knew very well how false this was, but for some reason decided to keep his mouth shut.
"I came there to tell you …" he started instead, visibly forcing himself. "I followed the carriage." his eyes went up to Javert for a moment, as if searching for some sort of salvation. "The one that took the lady last night."
The man beside the boy exclaimed, exasperated, as if he´d heard that too many times by now. "You should have never done that." he cried. "They could have seen you. Could have hurt you."
"She asked me to do that." the kid cried, defensively. "She told me to find out where they´d go."
"Where the family would go. Not a bunch of murderers. Are you out of your mind, Pascal?"
Javert stepped forward. "Did you actually see where they went?" he asked and the kid nodded.
"To a place just outside the city. In the woods."
"Can you describe the way for us?" Valjean asked, eagerly, but this time the boy shook his head.
"I can only show you. You´d never find it."
"No." the man who was not the boy´s father tried to forbid it, but got ignored.
"And we need to hurry." the kid urged. "Before they hurt the lady."
Valjean straightened and searched Javert´s gaze. The question was clear in his eyes, but Javert didn´t need to say it.
"I´ll find us a fiacre." Valjean agreed, already on his way.
"No driver." Javert mentioned, although he was pretty sure Valjean had already thought of that. "We don´t know what we´ll find there."
He regarded the kid, and the boy lowered his gaze. As if he were ashamed. Strange. Javert spared asking him, if he knew what they´d find there. Maybe he shouldn´t have.
...
The sky had clouded over. There was rain ahead. If it would actually fall or pass was a different matter, but right now it made the woods seem much darker than Javert would have liked it. He couldn´t see a goddamn thing. Aside from trees and bushes. What was the boy trying to show them?
"Stop here." he instructed them at some random point, and Valjean obeyed. There was still nothing to be seen, anywhere.
"We must walk the rest." the kid explained. "The fiacre won´t get there."
He led them off the track and through the trees. It wasn´t far. Only a few dozen feet into the wood he made them hunch down, behind a bush. And at this point Javert didn´t need anyone to point it out for him anymore. He could see the entrance of the tunnel very well. Overgrown by vegetation, but still very visible.
"What´s that?" Valjean whispered amazed.
"That´s where they brought the lady." the kid answered, unnecessarily. Not what Valjean had meant.
"That´s the catacombs." Javert told him and Valjean was simply gobsmacked.
"What? Out here? But … I thought they´re under the city."
"The arms of the tunnels stretch out far, it says." Javert was unable to get his eyes off that entrance. "Beyond the city limits."
"You know about that?"
"I heard stories. From people I questioned. They talked of beggars living in the tunnels. Of … a whole community that exists down there."
"A community?" Valjean´s breath itched when he stared at the entrance.
"Who knows how much of this is true." Javert calmed his excitement. "They talk a lot. It could be a myth." He turned to the kid. "You´re certain they´re in there?" When the boy nodded, the inspector in Javert took over. "How did you manage to follow them here?" he wanted to know.
"I hid on the carriage. In the back. Jumped off when they stopped."
"What did they do with the fiacre?"
"It drove off. I have no idea where." The kid skipped back a little, closer to Valjean. He was nervous under Javert´s interrogating gaze.
"I see." the former inspector looked about, checking the surroundings. "All right. I´ll have a look at this. You wait here. If I don´t return in twenty minutes …"
"You don´t seriously expect me to let you go alone." Valjean spoke over him but Javert would not allow his hotheaded partner to blow the whole thing with his good intentions.
"Running into their arms unprotected and unprepared would be very stupid, now wouldn´t it?" Not even Valjean could argue with that. "I´ll check out the perimeter first. As soon as we know what´s in there, we can …."
Somewhere in the woods a branch broke, startling up a few birds, their cries quickly fading in the distance. After that it was silent again. Only it wasn´t. Not the way it had been before. A different kind of silent, as if even the trees were holding their breath.
"Boy!" Valjean hissed, and that was the moment Javert noticed that the kid had vanished. Snuck away at their moment of distraction. Dammit.
There was another sound in the underwood. Maybe just the natural sounds of the forest, but Javert´s guts told him different.
"That´s not good." he gazed around, searching, and it didn´t really matter how he knew. Fact was he knew: "This is a goddamn trap."
Valjean didn´t ask either. He jumped up when Javert did, and the next thing Javert knew was that they´d already run right into it. Valjean made maybe two steps, when a man blocked his way, and not even his over average strength could save him from this clean knock into the face. Javert saw him fall, just a moment before someone jumped him from behind. Something hit him on the head, leaving him dizzy, and the hands that dragged him into the tunnel had an easy task. He slumped into the wall, like a drunkard, slacking down when his legs gave in. Valjean landed right beside him and rough hands tied them up, wrists and ankles, as if they were in any condition to run away.
Javert had enough coherence left to count the men around them. Five as far as he could see. But there could be more deeper in the tunnel. And the kid. The kid was among them, as if he belonged there. But his eyes betrayed this first impression. He was scared. Uncertain.
"Did you harm the lady?" he dared to ask, after they were done tying Javert´s feet.
"Not yet." one of the men smirked.
"You promised." the boy cried, scandalized. "You said if I bring them here, you´d not harm her."
"And we won´t." the man promised, clearly mocking the kid. "Harming her was never part of the job anyway. Just to deliver her."
The boy´s chest rose and fell, quickly, in his desperation. "But that´s not fair." he actually shouted now and it was seriously painful, even for Javert, to watch this naivety. "You said …"
"Arrrg, come on boy." the man dismissed the crying kid. "Everyone lies. Get used to it." And with that he simply pushed him over to one of his men. "Tie him up."
The second man halted, for a moment, startled. "But … he´s just a boy."
"I said, tie him up." his leader repeated, no argument allowed. "We can´t have him run around or call the cops on us."
The skinny man led the kid to a table, and took the rope. It was a blessing that the boy didn´t struggle. "What are you gonna do with us?" Javert addressed the leader of this gang.
The man regarded him for a moment. "I haven´t decided yet. Depends. What´s your business with this girl?"
Javert had no idea where his next words came from. It was once again pure instinct – but he´d learned to trust his instincts and these men thanks God didn´t seem to take them for police – so he simply said: "She owes us money."
The kidnapper just grinned. "She? The wife of a wainwright? How stupid do you think me?"
Javert rolled his eyes. "Not she. Her husband." And from there his words just came to him as he went, totally depending on the flexibility of his mind. "He was our negotiator. In business." he emphasized the word. "Business that would make a lot of money. But since someone recently killed her husband … I´m kinda stuck with her as my last resort to make the deal for me."
The man was frowning. If he believed Javert was a different question – yet – but at least he was thinking.
"What kind of deal?" he wanted to know. "What are you trading that´s so worthwhile?"
Javert tried to think quickly, about some trade that would sound convincing. He opened his mouth but it was Valjean who answered the question.
"Coffee." he said, straight on, and Javert stared at him. He wasn´t the only one who was startled.
"Coffee?" the criminal cried. "You think I´m an idiot?"
"No." Valjean retorted. "Just unaware of how much duty free is appreciated in Germany. The drawback system really itches some businessmen there, so they prefer to do business with someone who doesn´t need the customs inspection office. Certain people pay a lot of money for it. It still comes them cheaper than dealing with this office. Especially when you know that coffee used to be illegal there, only a few years ago."
After this the place was silent for a moment. A profound proof for how impressive this explanation had been. Javert had to give him that. He knew his business. And no matter if this was true or not, it surely sounded convincing enough to be true. He only hoped these guys even knew what Valjean had just said.
The criminal seemed uncertain. He was still considering.
"See?" Javert spoke, supporting Valjean´s story. "This deal offers a lot of money. As in a lot! Why do you think we took the effort upon us to follow this girl out here? Because we like her so much? No. She just happens to be the only one who can still make this deal happen."
"How so?"
Time for some daring. Javert glared at the man. "Are you stupid?" he shot. "I just told you. They simply won´t talk to anyone except they are from our wainwright´s family. They know her so we need her. So please tell me she´s still alive and able to talk."
The man behind the leader, glared at Javert with deep anger.
"Why are we standing around here, and let this asshole insult us?" he asked his pal. "Let me cut their throats and end this."
But his leader held up a hand, rather calm. "Let´s just hear them out." he said. "How much money are we talking here?"
Javert gladly gave this one to his trading experienced partner. "Jean." he glanced at a startled Valjean. "The books are your department." he said. "How much´s in the pot this time?"
The ex con needed a moment to get himself back together – maybe calling him by his first name under pressure was not a good idea.
"Well …" he began. "In this case … considering the international price for coffee on the stock market right now … minus taxes and adding the trading profit I´d say … 10.000 at least. If not more."
"Taxes?" the criminal echoed and Javert flinched inwardly. "What kind of smuggler pays taxes?"
But Valjean was not irritated a bit. He merely looked at the man as if this was the most ridiculous question he´d ever heard.
"Are you stupid?" he asked, probably encouraged by Javert´s dare to insult the man earlier. Javert made a mental note to be extra careful in the future, about the things he did while Valjean was nearby.
"Why do you think we´re so successful?" Valjean went on. "We buy the stuff we sell totally legal. It gets into the country like any other good. We buy it for a lower price due to our contacts and sell it for twice sometimes three times as much. Don´t you know anything?"
Javert watched the criminal´s reaction closely. He seemed to take the insults well.
"Sounds like normal trading." he remarked, and Valjean once again, threw his argument right back at him.
"Exactly." he said through gritted teeth. He really looked like a man fed up with the unawareness of another. And even more unbelievable was the fact that it worked.
The criminal was shuffling uncertain, trying to come to a decision. "All right." he said at last. "So you say you could make 10.000 with this girl."
"If she gets to our customer in time."
"When?"
Javert spoke, before Valjean had the chance. "A few hours from now." It sounded like a question. Think you can make that happen, guys?
The two men looked at each other, debating. "That´s more than we´re making now." the leader offered his opinion to the guy who was obviously more important than the others when it came to decision making. The rest of those bastards had stayed in the background rather humble so far.
"Sounds good to me." one of them offered now.
"What would we have to do for that?" another wanted to know, but it was the right hand of the leader who stopped their enthusiasm.
"We don´t even know if they´re telling the truth." he reasoned. "We´d put the business at risk that we´re doing now."
Smart bastard, Javert thought. But once again, Valjean would not be irritated by this fallback.
"We can prove what we say." he claimed, gaining their full attention.
"How." the leader wanted to know.
And Javert could only agree. "Yeah." he glanced at Valjean. "How?"
His mentally hurdle racing partner scowled, facing those men. "We´ve got to fetch the money for the trade." he explained. "We pay the coffee from our deliverers, and then move on to meet our buyers. You simply come with us for that. It´s quite a sum we have to fetch. A sum that should prove to you that we are doing business."
"How much money?"
Javert watched closely, anxious to hear what sum Valjean would come up with.
"Five thousand." Valjean was determined. "I´d add two hundred more for each of you in advance. Just to convince you. Call it a bonus."
The boss of the gang was smirking but his right hand did not seem convinced.
"What´s that supposed to prove?" he asked.
Valjean simply looked at him. "5000?" he asked right back. "Why would I risk so much money plus your bonus, if I couldn´t make much more? That is of course if we get this damn girl to do the trade for us."
Javert was out of the game by now. He was just praying that Valjean wouldn´t blow this. But as it seemed the criminals were indeed finally convinced. They turned away from them for a moment, debating among each other. And Javert took the break to glance at Valjean.
"You´re crazy." he said, but the other man did not bat an eye.
"This crazy guy is about the only friend you have left in this world." he said, and Javert scowled.
"Yeah." he rasped. "Thanks for reminding me."
He could see the realization dropping in for Valjean, but too late, as always.
"Antoine, I didn´t mean …" he started but got interrupted when one of their new business partners dragged him up. A quick cut with the knife and his ties were gone.
"All right." the right hand of their gang leader growled. "We´ll go together."
Valjean was startled, glancing at Javert, but the criminal denied instantly.
"Just the two of us. When we have the money we come back."
Again Valjean glanced at Javert, asking, and Javert raised his brows.
"I´m the hostage." he confirmed for him. And just to make sure Valjean understood the meaning of this, he added: "You better hurry."
...
Vidocq´s brows were raised, almost vanishing under his curls. "Did he really bring the money?" he asked, unable to hide how hard he found it to believe this part of the story.
Javert only gave him a face. "This is Valjean we´re talking about. Of course he did."
...
It took them one and a half hour, approximately. When Valjean and his guard finally returned, it was with bulging pockets.
"Any problems?" the leader of the gang asked his man.
"None. He got it from the bank. Simple as that."
"Let me see." he greedily took the stack of bills and instantly the five men stood huddled together, counting their easily earned money.
Valjean made his way over to Javert. "Are you all right?" he asked, helping him up. He didn´t seem concerned about acting against their incarcerators will, and untied him on his own authority.
"I´m touched by your concern." Javert growled. "But I can handle myself."
"I see how well you handle yourself." Valjean took his time to untie the kid as well.
"I´m not the idiot who pays some street rats in advance with such a fortune." Javert growled.
"It´s my money. Never mind that."
"You´re still an idiot."
"You only say that because you´re cheap."
This last remark was too unexpected and too sassy for Javert to handle. All he could do to properly react was stare, irritated beyond words. Valjean´s gaze was daring, mocking actually and Javert scowled at him in response.
"Go fuck yourself." he caught a glimpse of Valjean´s wide grin just before he turned his back on him, and walked straight over to those criminals. They were still busy celebrating over their new fortune.
"You believe us now?" Javert asked and when the leader turned to him, he snatched the bigger stack of the bills away from him. "If you mind … we´ll still need that to pay the deliverer."
It was mostly his bad mood making him act so risky, but obviously it did its work. The men accepted his demeanor without objections. A grim nod from their leader was the only reaction he got.
"Great." he packed the money into his breast pocket. He just didn´t want to see this ridiculous bribe anymore. "So can I see the woman now?" he asked, impatiently. "Because I´m fed up with this game of waiting. Where is she?"
The leader glanced at his right hand, pointing with his head. "Show him." he ordered. Nothing more. And just as silent, as the order had been, it was taken to action.
Javert felt like in the old days, when he´d walked to the prison cells. Because whatever this chamber had once been, long ago, now it was exactly that. A cell, holding the hostage, the wife of the murdered wainwright.
Javert did not know what he expected to see, when the door got opened for him. But he surely was not prepared for that sight.
The girl lay on the ground, on a ridiculously small bundle of hay. The only clean thing about her seemed to be the tiny silver necklace – a heart. Her dress was torn and when she heard the door, she instantly jumped up, retrieving into the farthest corner and huddled herself into a tight ball, like a scared animal. Javert could only stare at her. Her eyes met him, and all he saw was fear. Not of death though.
"What´s this?" he asked, not able to help himself. "What did you do to her?"
The only answer he got was a smug grin. And at this sight something inside him just snapped, broke the chains of his self control and allowed the beast to lunge forward. The guy grunted when he got pushed into the frame of the door.
"Did you rape her?" Javert hissed into his face. It wasn´t that he needed the answer, but he wanted to hear it from his own lips. He wanted the truth.
"The trade did not specify the condition in which she´s to be delivered." was the answer he got.
Javert felt the impulse coming before his fist shot forward. As if it had its own will, it began punching this bastard. Three times in a row, so quick, not even Javert himself knew how this could have happened so fast. The man dropped, out cold and only a second later, he saw Valjean blocking off another man that tried to attack him.
Javert heard the sound of a knife falling to the ground and he reacted on pure instinct. Something inside him had taken over, and this something was raging. The fight happened like in a daze. Later on, he would not be able to remember any details. All he knew was that he punched, and that he punched hard. He received some knocks too, but barely even noticed those. After a time that he would never be able to clearly define, the fight was over. The men had somehow ended up on the ground, groaning but not entirely defeated. Javert grabbed the leader, and picked up the knife Valjean had knocked out of the other man´s hand.
"Stay where you are." he rasped at them, holding the knife to their leader´s throat. "On your knees or he dies."
He wasn´t bluffing. If any of them had attempted to get up and attack again, he would have cut this man´s throat. In this moment, maybe the first time of his life, he was ready to take another man´s life, as if he had the right to do so.
Thanks God the criminals obeyed.
"Get her out." he told Valjean, and Valjean was panting, staring at him. He turned to the cell, ready to do what Javert had just said, but the kid was faster. He was in the cell before Valjean had even made his first uneven step. And that was probably a good thing. Considering what she must have been through, not even a saint like Valjean would be able to convince her, that he wasn´t just the next guy who´d come to have his share on her. Javert had to restrain himself from using the knife after all.
Somehow the boy managed it to get the woman off the ground and convince her to follow him. Her eyes were still haunted when they reached the door, flinching under Javert´s glare. She couldn´t know that the hate in his eyes was not meant for her.
"Shhhh." Valjean made, trying to calm her, but it only made her flinch away from him. Her hand went up, instinctively clutching the little heart that hung around her neck, as if it was a talisman. The only thing they hadn´t taken from her.
"Everything will be all right." Valjean tried to tell her, before giving it up. He turned to the boy: "Bring her to the fiacre."
As the two of them left, he glanced at Javert, and the former inspector could read in his eyes like in a book. Well. That wasn´t the way I thought this would go. But I´ve got to give you that, inspector. You know how to surprise.
"Into the cell." Javert ordered the men on the ground. "Now!"
The criminals slowly got up, making their way into the cell. Each of them seemed to ask their leader silently for approval, and it was this bastard´s luck that he did not try to order them anything different. He probably knew that Javert would not let go of him, and that he still held his life in his hands.
Valjean took the doorhandle, expecting Javert to push the leader inside at last.
"Close the door." he ordered him instead.
Valjean frowned, but did as he said.
"Wait outside."
But this time Valjean objected. "Antoine."
Impatience got the better of him and Javert simply ignored his disobedient partner.
"Who gave you the order?" he asked his hostage. "Who´s paying you?"
"I don´t know any name." the man claimed and Javert increased the pressure with his knife. "I swear." the man cried, trying to back off from the blade. "The guy who payed us said he works for a group of people. Dangerous, powerful men. He made sure to tell us to better not mess up, that we´d regret it. But he´d pay well, if we´d do well. We only had to know the task, no names, he said. It´s the truth, come on."
Javert felt Valjean take a hesitant step closer, but so far he didn´t try to interfere. Not yet.
"So you don´t even know why you should take her." Javert summarized. It wasn´t really a question.
"We were supposed to take the man and his wife." the criminal told him. "But he struggled. Got himself killed."
"So you took the wife." Javert concluded. "Conveniently in both senses of the word."
This time the son of a bitch was smart enough not to give a response. But Javert did not need any more. He knew what he needed to know. He´d seen it when he´d opened the door.
His hand found a fast grip in this rapist´s hair, and the man glowered at him, as if he knew something that Javert couldn´t possibly know. And for a moment this gaze made Javert halt in his action.
"You have no idea who you´re up against." the rapist told him, almost laughing. "You think we´re bad? You ain´t seen nothing yet."
There was yet another emotion Javert could see in those eyes. The man foretold them danger, but he also knew that he would face one very distinct danger of his own. Maybe just as bad as the one he predicted for them. Maybe even worse.
Javert didn´t care. What he held in his hand just now was not worth any form of sympathy. He tightened the grip on this man´s hair and pushed, throwing his head into the wall. The criminal bounced off, groaning, but he wasn´t knocked out.
"You got lucky with this, you better believe that." Javert hissed into his ear.
And with that he finally pushed him towards the door. Valjean hurriedly opened it, to let them in, and Javert threw the man inside, literally. Valjean stepped back when he took the door from him, to close it himself, and after he´d turned the key, his hand suddenly seemed glued to the wood. As if he had to fear the whole tunnel would come down on their heads if he let go now. God, what had just happened here?
"Antoine?" The uncertainty in Valjean´s voice brought him back around, and Javert stepped back from the door, straightening his back.
"Is the girl in the carriage?"
"I guess so."
Javert simply nodded, strongly. "We should go." he decided, and after one last glance at the door, he made his way outside.
Of course he knew Valjean was still watching him closely, but he would not give him an explanation. Not when they left the tunnel, and not when they mounted the coach seat, driving off to get back to Paris.