It never Stops and never Ends

Reluctantly Javert followed Valjean and their unexpected host Vidocq, to the man´s kitchen.

The wife, Fleuride, was just in the process of placing the cups on the table, taking the kettle off the stove. Vidocq gladly sat down, as if they all had gathered here for nothing more than a nice little cup of tea, among old acquaintances. He even seemed to enjoy himself.

Had Javert been on his own, he might have preferred to stand, just to show how less comfortable this meeting really was. But Valjean had already taken a seat, and even the footman was sitting down, so it would be ridiculous to remain standing as the only person in the room. Not even Javert was that stubborn.

Fleuride began pouring the tea, to each of them, and Vidocq took his cup, as if he expected them all to do the same. Of course his lapdog obeyed instantly. Javert didn´t even look at his cup.

"All right." he spoke, glaring at their host. "We´re sitting. Start talking."

The woman threw him a sharp glance, setting down the kettle harsh enough to make the cups rattle.

"You could be a little more polite, inspector." she told him. "I made the tea, so you can have it. It´s not poisoned as you see."

As if to prove her point, she took her own cup, poured from the same kettle as theirs, and sipped from it.

Javert was still not considering to have any tea at all. Valjean on the other hand, seemed intimated by the woman´s demand. He ruefully reached for his cup. And Javert stopped him.

"No." he ordered, watching the woman and her husband. "They could have prepared the cups."

A wide smile spread on Vidocq´s lips, as he laughed heartily at this.

"Oh, you really are wary inspector, aren´t you?" he chuckled. "How could you ever make friends with anyone?"

Javert only scowled at him. "I don´t make friends."

Beside Vidocq, Gysbert laughed dryly. "What a surprise."

The footman skillfully avoided Javert´s glare, but the former inspector caught a glimpse of Valjean, beside him, and he believed to see a suppressed smirk there. When he looked at him directly, Valjean cleared his throat, quickly, turning his attention back to Vidocq.

"I´ve read about you." he said. "You were dismissed from the force and opened a factory."

Once again Javert could not help the laugh that came up in him. Oh dear, that really was good.

"Is that something you jailbirds like to do when you get out?" he asked.

"And we´re very good at it." Vidocq was smiling very self satisfied, probably for having managed it at last to draw Javert into the chat. "So there you see, inspector. Men like us can do something for the people. We provide supplies … and work."

"Mainly for spies." Javert replied, dryly. "And barely capable footmen."

"Hey." Gysbert cried out, glaring insulted, but Vidocq only chuckled.

"Not all that wrong." he admitted, instantly raising a hand at Gysbert. "I meant the first thing." When he turned back to Javert he was serious again. "Don´t think they didn´t want me out of the force for a reason."

"Because you were criminals."

"Because we asked the wrong questions. My men were not as intimidated by high ranking uniforms as most of the police or the military were." The round face of the small man became even more serious. "We came across some evidence that something was going on." he told them, a shadow passing his gaze. "Something that was even less conform with the law and moral than we were. Something that would ultimately cost a lot of lives. When we started to investigate, we got shut down."

For a moment, their host seemed to indulge in this memory, his gaze dark as if briefly reliving an old grudge against someone.

"I went away from Paris." he went on. "And opened this factory. Not to earn money. The paper was just the cover. But I needed to have a base, from where I could keep up my investigations. My men were loyal. Together we discovered the truth. Much more than I would have expected." At this the freelancing spy shook his head. "You can believe me, I had expected much, but not that."

"What was it?"

It was Gysbert who asked, from the side: "Don´t you already know that?" When Vidocq looked at him asking, he told him: "They found a letter in Bourguignon´s office." And he threw a glance at Javert that could have been hurt pride. "I told you I was good."

Javert almost laughed out again. But Vidocq´s gaze caught his attention. The man was nodding, impressed.

"You found out a lot." he praised. "Considering your limited resources and the fact that you´re on the run from the law, that is quite impressive. You even found me."

"Skip the flattery." Javert could not have that. "So you really want to tell me that all this only happened because some people were greedy?"

"Do you even understand what greed is, inspector?" Vidocq asked. "What some people would do for money?"

"I´ve been a police inspector for over thirty years. Of course I know."

"Do you also know," the other man went on. "Why these people would never call themselves thieves or criminals? Why they are convinced that what they do is nothing wrong at all?"

Javert gave a snort at this idea, but something about these words made him uncomfortable. He didn´t know an answer to this question. None at all. How could they not see that they were criminals? Was Vidocq serious? Or was he trying to mock him?

Valjean seemed to understand. "One of these men called himself a patriot." he remembered, and Vidocq nodded. Like a school teacher would nod at a very attentive student. It was repulsive to watch.

"I guess that´s how they justify it to themselves." Vidocq spoke, patronizingly sharing his insight. "You see, these men you´re talking about. They´re not criminals. They´re bankers, businessmen, politicians. They trade and do business with each other. Sure they earn money, but I heard their explanations. The ones they brought up before the parliament. For them every act that betters the conditions of trade is noble and right, for it would serve the country and its people. Whatever makes the country rich makes the country better for everyone." He must have seen the disgust in Javert´s gaze, the lack of understanding in Valjean´s, and he nodded. "That´s how they said it. I´ve heard it, I was there."

"At a gathering of the parliament?"

"I was giving out water to the attendants." The spy smirked.

Javert shook his head, stubbornly. Nothing in this reasoning made any sense to him. "It would make them rich and nothing else. These phrases are nothing but false justifications."

"Indeed they are." Vidocq agreed. "But with them they can convince many people, to let them do whatever is necessary to ensure the trades will not be disturbed. Not even by riots of passionate students."

Valjean´s hand grasped Javert´s arm, seizing it in sudden understanding, irritating the heck out of him. The man wasn´t even looking at him.

"Those riots …" he breathed, and Vidocq nodded.

"They disturbed the trades a great deal. You can imagine that many of these businessmen were less than pleased. Especially when the estimations of the government told them that these rioting kids could be around for the next ten to twenty years, if no one found a way to put an end to it."

Oh God. The arm Valjean had grasped felt cold all the sudden, just like the rest of Javert.

"And by putting an end to it …" Valjean gulped, uncomfortable. "They didn´t mean to make peace with them."

"The government didn´t care what the solution would be." Vidocq let him know. "They´ve tried for years to negotiate but neither side was ready to listen."

"So they decided to get rid of them?"

Javert sat between all this, and found himself unable to say only a single word. Valjean´s hand had released his arm by now, to lay flat on the table, lost, like a soldier left behind to die on his own.

"Not the government." Vidocq corrected. "I want to make this clear. Some might be involved in this whole affair. And some high ranking politicians at that. I don´t want to defend anyone here. But don´t believe it was the government who did this."

"Then who did?" Valjean asked. "Who was the mastermind behind it?"

"There´s not one mastermind. There are too many of them to tell who started it. But we have the names of a few that are very important."

"What names?" Javert had found his voice again, at last. "Tell me."

"Don´t worry." Vidocq avoided an answer. "We have a list."

"Tell me their names." Javert demanded, again, not getting a response. "Lecomte is one of them, isn´t he?"

Vidocq looked at him, reluctantly, but eventually he nodded. "He´s one of the more important ones yes. We tried to take him out. But you stopped us. Killed one of my agents and two of his men."

Javert´s mouth dropped open, and beside him Valjean exclaimed.

"That was you!"

For a moment the well known feeling of rage came back to Javert. "Did you also kill Gareaux?" he demanded to know, but here Vidocq shook his head.

"Lecomte ordered Gareaux´s death." he said, and upon seeing Javert´s reaction, he added: "You´re not the only one he fooled, inspector." The unofficial spy sighed sympathetically. "It all began with Marianne Poche really. When she came to your friend Gareaux with what she had discovered … she couldn´t have guessed what she would set in motion. He died because he tried to help. And you … you almost died, because he trusted you. He planned to ask you for your help. Only he never got the chance anymore."

Javert knew nothing more to say. He felt the heavy weight from all of this, crush down on him, and nothing helped, not even the comforting words, when Vidocq told him, reassuringly: "It wasn´t your fault, inspector."

He answered him with seething silence.

"We … have a picture of another man …" Valjean took it upon himself to go on with the questioning. "A man that was affiliated with Lecomte … Is … Still …" he shook his head. "Maybe you know who he is."

He looked at Javert, trying to catch his eyes, to call him back from whatever dark corner he´d gone to, and at last Javert did. He understood the silent prompt, and reached for his pocket.

Vidocq instantly nodded, almost the moment his eyes fell on the drawing. "That´s Talbert." he told them. "Julien Talbert. He´s the secretary of the mayor. We suspect him to have written a lot of orders in the mayor´s name."

"Does the mayor know about that?"

"I don´t think so. He´s handed most of his business to his faithful secretary. He trusts the man. In fact … we believe that the mayor is the one who is supposed to get eliminated next. Not by assassins for a change. Politically. Talbert´s actions will compromise him, so badly he will have no choice but to step back. Maybe even in favor of Talbert himself."

Javert crumbled the paper between his fingers again, sighing deeply, frustrated.

Valjean asked: "What are you planning to do about this? You said you tried to … take out Lecomte. How is murdering him going to solve anything? Or to undo the deeds that he committed."

Javert wanted to roll his eyes, at the endless repetition of this song. But he was lacking the strength. Instead he simply closed his eyes, massaging his forehead, and wished for this day to end.

"We didn´t plan on killing him." Vidocq told them. "Our plan was to capture him and make him surrender the evidence and a confession. Killing him would have been the last way, if he wouldn´t have given us another choice. Only we didn´t even get that chance."

"Where is he now?" Javert wanted to know. "You know it, don´t you?"

"In his residence." Vidocq nodded. "Le Château d´Asnières."

"He never left Paris." Valjean spoke it out, aghast, and Javert groaned.

"Of course not. He knew he was in no danger. Not after I saved him."

"And now he resides in a highly secured mansion." Vidocq agreed. "Heavily guarded by security."

Javert glanced up at the small man, daggers in his eyes. "Not heavily enough."

When he got up, Valjean jumped out of his seat too. "What are you doing?"

"What do you think? I´ll pay him a visit."

"I´d advise you against that, inspector." Vidocq rose from his seat as well.

"Why?"

"Because we already plan on a visit ourselves."

"When?"

"Tonight. Don´t worry, he´ll be taken care of."

Javert looked at this man, that was a criminal at heart, but still a man like he´d been once. A man of the law, who was able and ready to do what was necessary to ensure justice would be done. And for a moment he seriously considered to let it be. To let them handle this. They were on their way on doing so already. Maybe, he thought, interfering now would be the worst he could do.

And then Valjean spoke up again.

"What does that mean?" he asked Vidocq. "What do you intent to do there?"

"We know he has the evidence that we need in his safe." the police spy told them. "He´s also hosting two men in his guest rooms this week, both of them involved with the case. Those are the items we are after."

"You call two men items?"

"We will collect the evidence and press confessions from the men. We have our ways. As soon as we have that, we will present these evidence to the court." he glanced at Javert again. "They will pay for what they did."

Javert nodded, but his earlier consideration was gone out of the window.

"I´ll be with you when you go in." he decided.

"I´m afraid that´s not a good idea." Vidocq objected calmly. But Javert was boiling.

"I want Lecomte."

"You want him to pay for the death of your friend, I know. And for the death of this woman Marianne, which I can understand only too well. But inspector …"

"I want to see that justice is done." Javert talked over him, determined to get his will. "You´re short on three men because of me. Let me make up for this."

He could see that at least his last argument had done the trick. Vidocq was thinking. Javert must have been closer to the truth than he´d thought. Who knew how many of his oh so loyal men he really had left.

Eventually Vidocq nodded.

"What about me?" Valjean wanted to know.

"You´re wounded." Javert frowned at him. "Don´t be ridiculous."

"I can still stand my ground." Valjean objected. "You know that better than anyone."

Javert faced the other man, trying to figure out if he was stubborn or stupid. Surely he couldn´t be serious. With an injury like that he wouldn´t last five minutes on a mission like that.

"Your friend is right." Vidocq supported him. "You wouldn´t help us in there. With your injured arm you´re merely an obstacle. Be reasonable and stay behind. We can handle this."

Valjean didn´t object anymore, and Javert was grateful for that.

"Inspector." Vidocq turned to him. "I accept your help. But only because I´m one man short as you said. And because it is your reputation on the line too." he stepped closer. "But I need to make sure that you will not forget what the mission is. It´s not revenge on Lecomte. It´s the evidence he´s hiding there."

"I was a police inspector, I know how to get the job done."

"By your reputation I wouldn´t have expected anything else."

"Javert." Valjean spoke up, yet again and his gaze was not encouraging. He turned to Vidocq, adamantine. "I´m not staying behind." he told him. "I´m coming with you."

Vidocq was wise to stay out of this staring contest Javert and Valjean indulged in. But to Javert´s great misfortune, it wasn´t easy to stare the stubbornness out of this man. Valjean seemed determined to reinvent the term stubborn altogether.

Eventually Javert turned back to Vidocq.

"Could we have a moment?"

The small man didn´t say a word. He only nodded, and left them to work out this argument on their own. And Javert was ready to silence Valjean at last.

"What are you trying to prove here?" he hissed, grabbing Valjean´s collar.

"You can´t go with them all on your own." Valjean hissed right back, not a bit intimidated. "Don´t tell me you trust them."

"I don´t trust any of them. But he´s right. You are an obstacle."

"I´m touched by your concern about me." Valjean´s voice was slicing with sarcasm. "But I can handle myself."

Javert only laughed. "Yeah, I´ve seen how well you can handle yourself."

"If you get wounded in this, do you really think any of these men would risk their lives or their missions to get you out of there alive?"

The hand on Valjean´s coat let go, all on its own. Javert frowned, startled. "But you would?" He couldn´t help. It felt weird to imagine Valjean risking his life for his. Judging by the other man´s reaction, this feeling was mutual.

"I would not just leave you behind." he met him halfway.

But even that was too much already. Javert just couldn´t take that. Someone else – and this man especially – giving up something for his well being? Impossible. People just didn´t do that.

"And what if it is you who gets shot and I would have to risk myself to get you out?" he reasoned against Valjean´s scenario. "How would you have helped me then?"

For a moment Valjean was as taken aback by the idea, as Javert had been earlier. But he overcame it, quicker. "That won´t happen." he assured him.

Javert only laughed, dryly. "Can you guarantee that?"

"Can you guarantee it won´t happen to you?"

The ex police man stared at his former fugitive, narrowing his eyes. "That´s ridiculous." he found at last, ready to dismiss this whole discussion. But Valjean wouldn´t let him.

"Is it, Javert?" he held him back by his coat. "Is it really?"

Javert stared into those determined eyes, and he knew he wouldn´t convince him like that. He tried to think.

"I go in there to get Lecomte." he stated, matter of factly. "I can´t need you and your pleading heart when I get my hands on him."

Valjean took a breath, letting go of Javert´s coat. He seemed to take a step back after all. Javert was hopeful. But then Valjean spoke.

"If that man really is guilty of the crimes Vidocq named …" he said. "Then I won´t plead for him."

Javert raised his brows, regarding Valjean closely. Was he really serious with that? Did he even know what he was talking about? The way Javert saw it, Valjean might be able to promise this now, maybe even believe it. But when the time was up, and he would face the reality of this, he would back out of it again, unable to stand what Javert inevitably would do. And at Javert´s asking gaze, he seemed to know that too. He reconsidered his own words, right there.

"You won´t kill him, right?"

Javert had to think about it for a moment. "I won´t let him get away." he said, as honest as he could get in this moment. None of them knew what would happen after all. So this was the best he could give Valjean, right now. "That´s all I can promise you." he told him, and after a while, Valjean nodded.

"All right." he said. "That´s good enough for me."

Good enough. Javert could barely believe that he agreed on this term. And that he truly turned to Vidocq, who leaned against the table, waiting patiently for them to finish, and told him: "We´ll both be coming with you."

The ex police spy sighed, but nodded in agreement. "All right then." he glanced at Valjean, the wounded man. "But he´s your responsibility."

Javert met Valjean´s gaze, and it seemed to communicate the same thing he thought. Wasn´t he always?

...

The sound of the door falling shut behind them was dark and heavy, resounding from the dirty walls of this dungeon they´d been thrown in. Cosette looked about, to see Marius support his grandfather, and she instantly was at their side, to help as well.

"Grandfather!" Marius called the old man. But the baron was weak. His eyes were only half open, and Cosette already feared that he would faint any moment.

"Oh God." Marius cried. "I´m so sorry. I should have come with you. I should have …"

"They would have hurt you." the baron shook his head, vehemently. "To get to me." His eyes cleared a little, as he held himself up on his grandson´s arms. "And that´s what they will do." he said. "Don´t think they´re done yet. They only locked us up in here together so we can talk. To give me time to think and decide that giving up is the only thing I can do."

Cosette watched her beloved Marius, and the shadow in his face was only too well known to her by now. It was the same shadow that lay over her own mind.

"But we won´t give up." Marius told his grandfather.

The only reaction he caused with his bravery was a hollow laughter.

"And what am I supposed to do, Marius?" the baron asked. "Watch them, how they hurt you? Torture you? Could you do this?" he asked, gesturing at Cosette with his chin, and Marius´ eyes found hers.

The implication was only so much of an implication, they both knew that. She wouldn´t be safe from them either. Chivalry was not something likely to be expected from men like those. Quite the contrary. The fact that she was a weak damsel would only make her the perfect leverage for the two men.

Cosette saw the desperation in Marius´ eyes, about this truth. But it went away only a moment later, replaced by anger, and determination.

"They won´t dare to do this." he growled but even Cosette knew how foolish it was to believe this.

"They´re not bluffing, Marius." the baron told him. "You saw Henry."

Cosette closed her eyes, quietly remembering the sight of the dead man on the stretcher. The baron swallowed painfully at the memory, too.

"These men don´t care about single lives, Marius. If they can´t break us they will take the chance of our deaths raising questions. And I wouldn´t have cared about that … as long as it was only me. But now that you are here …"

He could only shake his head, not able to go on. And Cosette was almost grateful. Because she didn´t know how much more she could take.

Unfortunately Marius was not done yet. His face darkened once again, as he took his grandfather´s arms.

"What is it?!" he demanded to know, shaking the old man, when he didn´t answer. "What do they want from you?"

The baron almost laughed. "Money." he answered, and at this even Marius skipped back. "They want me to buy our freedom … and sell them my soul along with it." he shook his head. "It would be a deal with the devil. They´d leave me to live on my property, as if it was still mine. But it wouldn´t be. It would be theirs. All of it. And you and your family would live under their constant watch. They would not even allow you to leave. Believe me. They´d find a way to make you stay. Only so they can keep you on the leash. It wouldn´t end with me, one day I die. This bond would enslave our family forever."

"How can they do that?" Cosette breathed, her entire body feeling numb. "How?"

The baron only looked at her, so tired, so defeated. "Look around, my dear." he sighed. "Then you know. Because they have the power. They have us. Our lives are in their hands. No one else knows we are here, and if they want to, they can just let us vanish. As if we were never even here."

He took a shuddering breath. "I have only two options." he said, looking at Marius again. "To either condemn my family to death. Or to a life in contracted slavery."

Cosette saw Marius, pale and unable to give a response. And inside her own chest she felt a despair so cold it was freezing her heart, her entire soul. In this moment she saw again the bloody rags on the floor of her old home. The clothes her Papa had worn, bloody and torn. No sign of him anywhere. Because he was gone. While it had only been a fear before, now she was sure of it. She´d lost him. Lost him forever. Like she´d once lost her mother.

This devil Javert had killed him, and was probably long gone, to save his own life, in the distance, far from here. He´d left, heartless as he was, not even caring that he´d condemn them all to death. Because this man knew no heart. He was a destroyer of good things. And they all would die in his wake, now that he was gone.

She skipped back, more and more, until her back touched the wall, and sank down to her knees, eyes wide open. She didn´t see Marius anymore, or his grandfather. She barely took notice anymore of her surroundings at all. Her mind was somewhere else. Somewhere where pain and despair never ended.

Her head sank down onto her arms, resting there for a moment, until she took in a long shivering breath. And at last the bottled-up flood broke lose. Not even Marius arms could stop her body from shaking, violently, giving in to this endless despair.