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Chapter 2. Javert is forced to make a compromise
The next day, early in the morning, Javert went to the post office before starting his day. Then he carefully avoided the mayor in the days following the arrest of the prostitute and tried, as hard as he could, to concentrate on his work so as to forget about her. The prostitute. There was no other name in Javert's mind than this to designate Fantine. He did not remember her first name and he was happy about it because what doesn't have a name is nothing more than an abstract idea, everything Javert wanted her to be and to remain. An idea that would eventually fade away. But what monopolized his thoughts the most was the Mayor. His suspicions, which had been dormant for several weeks, had suddenly awakened that famous night when he had almost arrested Fantine. And driven by humiliation, he had written to the prefecture of Paris. He was just waiting for the prefect's approval to arrest the mayor, or rather Jean Valjean.
Arresting the mayor of Montreuil-sur-Mer would not be an easy task, conceded Javert as he returned home one evening from his usual patrol. He lit a cigar and started smoking. Tobacco smoke rose in the cold of January and left behind him a long white trail. He walked steadily, almost militarily and looked like a locomotive.
Javert had imagined the scene. It was during one of those rare occasions when he allowed himself to dream. He was going in the office of M. Madeleine, accompanied by a few men, then he imagined himself slowly climbing the stairs to the mayor's office, taking the time to savor every step that would lead him gently and surely to victory. He would knock at the office, take the time to read the arrest warrant for Jean Valjean. And certainly, Jean Valjean would try to flee, to fight. Then Javert would send his men like bulldogs, they would arrest him and tie him up. Then they would lead Jean Valjean and he would fall on his knees in front of him, Javert. Surely, he would try to justify himself, but Javert would not bend. This time, it would be up to Jean Valjean to pay, to suffer the humiliation, the degradation. Yes, Javert would make Jean Valjean pay for the affront he had made to justice during all those years of escape where he had played the law and the police.
Javert looked up, the sky was unveiled but without a moon, only a few stars shone here and there. He thanked God for enlightening and leading him to this point. He smiled, and as he breathed his last breath of cigar, he heard behind him a voice calling to him.
He suddenly froze when he recognized M. Madeleine's clear and strong voice. He's
returned and saw the old man walking down the street, Javert had not realized that he walked by
the street where the factory of '' Le Bon Père Madeleine'' was located. He cursed in his favourites, maybe if he had not turned around, he could have pretended he did not hear anything, and maybe the mayor would not have insisted. Javert was a good actor, he knew how to hide and act even though he had always been a bad liar. So, he put on his serious and willing face that was displayed to any superior.
"Mr. Mayor," said Javert, his throat tight.
"Ah, Javert, I meet you at last. You save me a visit to the police station, I don't like this place, you see me relieved," exclaimed the mayor joking. He was still panting from his little run when he noticed that Javert was still holding the little piece of cigar between his fingers. "Ah, Javert, do you smoke? I wouldn't have guessed. Well, it is not what I to talk about. Do you remember the Fantine? The young woman that we brought to the infirmary on Monday night? I need your help. I've been running around for two days. I spoke to my foreman, Mrs. Victurien. She explained everything to me. Well...I lack time. I have so much to do and so many people to see, I imagine you too are very
busy. But here's the thing: I need you to do me a favor. »
And now Javert was no longer listening to anything. The mayor had spit it all out without letting Javert time to say anything. Fantine, now the name came back to his memory, now that he said it. That name was hammering his brain. That name that resounded so loudly that he did not hear Madeleine's request.
"So Javert?" Madeleine reminded him of her. He was obviously in a hurry, stumbling on a
foot to the other and squeezing the edges of his hat in his hands. Javert had to be careful, the fold already between his two eyebrows deepened still further. He stiffened even harder than he already had. He must not forget that the man in front of him was still Mr. Mayor, he was still his superior, even though he was Jean Valjean. Javert owed him, in spite of himself, all his respect.
"Forgive me, Mr. Mayor"
"I was saying, Javert, I want you to inquire about the young woman, Fantine. I want to find out where she lives and if you can, gather her things and bring them back to me as soon as possible. Can I ask you that? »
"Yes, Mr. Mayor, it will be done."
This short interview had added further troubles to Javert's already tortured mind. He couldn't sleep at all. His stomach was empty but he did not feel hungry, his mind had enough to be satiated. He who had forgotten the name of the prostitute and was content with it, had just be
Stunned by it. And what a mission the mayor had entrusted to him! Why did not him ask the prostitute her address directly? It was a lot easier than asking him, Javert, to search the filthy streets of Montreuil... Unless the mayor had a good reason to proceed like this... Javert, who never grumbled at the slightest task and who did not contradict, not even in thought, the orders he received, excoriated internally against the mayor.
It was not yet midnight that Javert, still not finding sleep, got up, put on a brown jacket and walked out of his house in the dark night.