Chapter Two

Disclaimer: I do not own Les Misérables.

Valjean didn't want to seem too eager to know why his confession had been completely ignored. He believed Javert when he said that, even if someone else was revealed to be Jean Valjean, nothing would induce the authorities to release poor Champmathieu. Valjean had tried his best but once that green cap had been placed on the fake Valjean's head, he had been lost. It was one thing to sacrifice himself and Fantine and Cosette and all of Montreuil to save an innocent man but to do so to attain nothing? It was unthinkable.

As such, he did not ask Javert if he had learned anything more before he left for Montfermeil and he would not ask after the man returned.

Instead, he waited for that man that he had vaguely recognized as being from Montreuil to return from Arras. This unknown man had been a member of the jury, he believed, so he would be an excellent source as to what had gone wrong with an otherwise straightforward confession. As Valjean had been in quite the hurry to settle his affairs before Javert came to arrest him and the juror was not, it took him a full two days longer than it had taken Valjean to return.

Valjean, having been informed when the juror had returned to town, was waiting for him outside of his house. A few discrete inquiries revealed to him that this was a Monsieur Bamatabois.

Bamatabois smirked when he saw Valjean. "I was wondering if you'd be here. You have questions, I presume?"

Valjean nodded. "Many."

"Well, Monsieur Madeleine, perhaps we should not have this conversation outside," Bamatabois suggested. He unlocked his door and then held it open in invitation.

"Thank you," Valjean said automatically as he entered the dwelling.

Bamatabois' servants must have also been alerted to his arrival as a fire was made up and there was a bottle of brandy on a small table by the chairs in front of the fire. Bamatabois gestured him him to take a seat before sitting himself and offering Valjean the bottle.

Valjean shook his head, not wishing to prolong this uncomfortable but necessary experience.

Bamatabois shrugged before pouring himself a generous portion. "If you're sure."

Valjean got right to the point. "I had not expected to receive the news that Jean Valjean was sent back to Toulon."

Bamatabois somehow managed to smirk again and simultaneously look extremely annoyed. "No, after that little stunt you pulled, I don't doubt it."

"I confessed. That should have been enough," Valjean said quietly.

The annoyed look grew more pronounced. "It almost was. We were about to be sent to deliberation when you saw fit to interrupt and when anyone recovered their presence of mind – which took awhile, let me tell you – we were sent to do just that. Everyone expected that we would acquit and then the court would surely issue an arrest warrant for you."

"Why didn't that happen?" Valjean pressed, wishing once again that people would get to the point and not drag out important information that he needed to know. Javert, at least, had not known just how desperate Valjean was to hear what had happened but he rather suspected that this man was doing it on purpose.

"The other jurors didn't even want to deliberate; they just wanted to vote straight off," Bamatabois said disgustedly, shaking his head. "You have no idea the difficulty I had dissuading them."

Valjean's eyes widened. "You changed their minds? But I confessed!"

Bamatabois looked faintly proud. "I didn't say it was easy but you offered no proof and no one wanted to believe you."

"I proved that I knew the convict witnesses," Valjean argued.

"Only that tattoo was undisputable. The rest could have just been something the convicts made up to destroy an upstanding citizen like yourself," Bamatabois countered, nearly crushing Valjean with the irony. "As for the tattoo, that's something any number of people would know about and you could have easily discovered without necessarily being a member of his chain-gang."

Valjean frowned. "If I were not Valjean, why would I claim that I was?"

"If you were him, why would you admit it?" Bamatabois retorted archly.

"It would have been against the dictates of my conscience not to."

Bamatabois laughed. "A convict with a conscience? You won't find many people who believe in that."

"Do you?" Valjean asked.

"Do I what?" Bamatabois asked. "Believe that convicts can have a conscience or that you are a convict?"

Valjean considered. "Both, I suppose, though the latter is of more interest to me."

"I'm sure I have no idea as to the former and I convinced several of my peers that the answer to the latter was 'no'," Bamatabois said drolly.

"And that didn't sound like a 'no'," Valjean noted, not entirely sure what to make of this young man who had saved him despite himself and given him the out he had so desperately been hoping for but wouldn't allow himself to take.

Bamatabois gave him a considering look for a moment before abruptly laughing again. "To be frank, Monsieur, I really couldn't care less if you were. Do I believe you are? I have no idea."

Now Valjean was astonished. "I have only met one other with that view and you do not much resemble him."

"What I do know is that this town needs you," Bamatabois said calmly. "And as long as that's true, I do not wish to see you leave."

Valjean bowed his head. "I know that, I do. But Champmathieu…"

"I make it a point to only put one person above thousands if that one person is me," Bamatabois said indifferently. "And what's done is done. No one could possibly blame you if you are Valjean – if they were being at all fair, that is – and my conscience is clear."

It had not taken long for Javert to conclude his business near Montfermeil. The business was not pressing but it did need to be done and it was only practical to do so while he was in the area. He decided to accomplish this first so he did not have to take a child with him while he completed his duties.

He wondered if this would be enough to discharge his debt to the mayor. He did not feel that fetching the child of a prostitute that Madeleine was so absurdly tolerant of would justify his being allowed to keep his job, his life's purpose. But then again, having denounced Madeleine to the Prefecture, was there anything that would have made up for it? When he thought of what might have happened if not for the real Jean Valjean…He doubted that it would have happened as he had an unshakable faith in the law but it was certainly within the realm of possibility.

Javert did not approve of this inn that Fantine's daughter was residing in, this Sergeant at Waterloo. The name indicated that the man may be a Bonapartist or even a republican and thus potentially a troublemaker. The man was small and sickly-looking but, in actually, seemed to be perfectly healthy. Perhaps his strange appearance was not his own fault, exactly, but Javert did not trust such blatant dishonesty. The Madame Thénardier was large and disconcerting. He understood intellectually that she was a woman but could not quite make himself believe it. If a woman was so misfortunate as to have a beard, he could not understand why she did not just remove it in the way a man would. Yes, it would be very odd but significantly less so than remaining bearded.

Javert did not want to waste time but he also saw the value in observing the place before revealing his intentions and causing the Thénardiers to conceal any wrongdoing in the matter of Cosette. Madeleine had suspected that they were cheating Fantine and If that were the case then it was imperative that they not be rewarded for it. Over the past few months, it had not just been Fantine who was being cheated but Javert's direct superior and so he was duty-bound to put a stop to it.

He was offered a midday meal and he accepted the most economical option. Because of his police business that he had already taken care of, this trip was being paid for by the government and he would not spend any more of their money than was strictly necessary.

Though he watched diligently for nearly an hour and the inn was quite crowded, he did not manage to spot any obvious – what was obvious to him was not always obvious to other people less vigilant – sign of wrongdoing.

Thénardier, like any malefactor who wishes to survive unencumbered by the police, had a sixth sense about those who would have the power to make things incredibly unpleasant for him. Though Javert had not identified himself, Thénardier was nearly positive that he was a member of the authorities and thus not only was he not to be cheated but any less-than-legal business practices had to be suspended for the duration of Javert's stay, which he rather hoped would not be very long.

There were two healthy and happy little girls in the corner of the room playing together and one miserable wretch who had been sweeping the floor when he had come in but had quickly been shooed into the kitchen. There was also a smaller child that he had not seen but had cried at one point and Thénardier, casting a pointed look at Javert, dispatched his wife to see to. The girls all appeared about the same age and so there was a good chance that one of them was Cosette.

As two of them were clearly well-treated and one of them was not and as Fantine had apparently fallen into a great deal of debt after losing her job and then becoming too ill to even work as a prostitute, Javert could guess which was Fantine's child.

After he had finished eating, he caught Thénardier's eye and the man quickly came over.

"Is Monsieur leaving already?" Thénardier asked, making only a half-hearted effort to sound like he wasn't fervently hoping for the answer to be 'yes.'

"Regrettably, I must," Javert replied, nodding. "What is the bill?"

"Just six sous for the meal," Thénardier replied.

That was entirely reasonable and so Javert willing parted with the money. "There is one other matter."

"Yes?" Thénardier asked, disappointed.

Javert took the letter from Fantine out of his pocket and passed it over to the other man. "I am here to reclaim Cosette for her mother."

Thénardier eyed the letter thoughtfully. "Ah. Well, we always knew that darling Cosette was not to stay with us forever. My dear, will you fetch her?"

Madame Thénardier nodded and went into the kitchen.

Thénardier looked a little embarrassed. "It is always so gauche to speak of money but my family is not a wealthy one, Monsieur, and my inn does not get as much business as it should in a town such as this. Perhaps if I were in Paris…But I am not. We have done everything we could for Cosette, treated her as one of our own as we awaited the day that her poor mother was able to get her life to a place where she could take darling Cosette back."

Javert said nothing.

Not deterred, Thénardier continued, "Unfortunately, as you may be aware, her mother has fallen behind on her payments of late. It's not her fault, I'm certain that it isn't, but times are hard and her daughter has been so sick…I'm afraid that I cannot release her to you until Fantine's debts are cleared."

Monsieur Madeleine had given him three thousand francs to settle any possible debt of Fantine's. Javert had protested that it was far too much (Cosette had been left with an in-keeper not at an expensive convent) and Madeleine had agreed but he wanted Javert to take it just in case. The Thénardier had refused to produce the child before and he wanted there to be literally nothing standing between Javert and finally taking her with him. It almost embarrassed Javert to be so trusted not to pocket the mayor's money after the way he had betrayed him earlier but he had agreed in the end.

Javert took out another note, this one written by himself after getting the record of financial transactions between Fantine and Madeleine and Thénardier. "In January, Fantine owed you one hundred and twenty francs. In February, you demanded eight hundred in an installment of five hundred and then three hundred. You wanted three hundred this month. That is twelve hundred and twenty francs in just three months and I can only imagine what the charges were before January."

It would seem that even without losing her job, Fantine would not have been able to pay the Thénardier and would have been forced to take Cosette back (which in turn would have likely led to her losing her job unless Madeleine noticed and intervened). Javert was beginning to see why a weak soul such as Fantine had chosen prostitution. Though it was a flaw in Fantine's own character, it could not be denied that the exorbitant demands of these people had contributed to the matter and aided in placing her in a situation (only aided as she had had the child herself) where such a moral defect would be exposed.

Thénardier coughed awkwardly. "Yes, well, I understand how just looking at it like that, the sum total, would make you wonder. I have a documented list of expenses, however, that I've dutifully recorded and that I've sent to Fantine with each request of money. There was the need for warmer clothes for Cosette and then there was that terrible outbreak awhile back and-"

"I am not here to dispute the money that you already paid," Javert said flatly, though he did wonder why Madeleine had so blindly consented to just paying the money and not forcing them to hand over Cosette before now. Perhaps that was what being wealthy did to you, destroyed your understanding of money and so even these outlandish charges did not appear suspicious to him.

Javert, having never been rich, was not entirely convinced that it was possible to spend more than one thousand francs on one individual, never mind a child. Madame Thénardier emerged from the kitchen just then with the miserable girl from earlier and Javert had to wonder if even a hundred had been spent on her. And the most ridiculous part of this whole situation was that the Thénardiers had agreed to take her on for fifteen francs a month which was only forty-five in the three months in question.

"That is good," Thénardier said, relieved.

"I am not, however, prepared to pay you a single sou more," Javert informed him.

Thénardier looked regretful and Madame Thénardier's arms tightened around the child, who looked confused and a little fearful.

"Then, and I am truly sorry because what sort of a man would wish to see a child separated from her mother, I am afraid that I will not be able to let you leave with Cosette," Thénardier said, his voice dripping with false regret.

How they could pretend that this ragged child meant anything to them when they clearly could and did treat other children better was beyond him. It was also a little insulting that they expected him to either believe or pretend to believe this farce.

"You will release the child to me immediately or I will arrest you right now for unlawful detainment and we will take a much closer look at all of that debt Fantine somehow managed to accrue," Javert said calmly.

Thénardier paled and he gestured immediately to his wife.

She released Cosette and gave her a push towards Javert.

Cosette stumbled forward a few steps before stopping and looking around uncertainly.

With reluctance, Javert addressed himself to the child. "Your mother sent me to retrieve you." Mentioning Madeleine's involvement would just confuse her and possibly cause the greed of the Thénardiers to overwhelm their instincts to not anger the law although it really was demeaning to claim to be acting for Fantine when she really should have been jailed months ago.

Cosette just blinked at that.

"Come with me," Javert tried again.

Cosette turned to look questioningly at the Madame Thénardier.

It was her husband who answered, however. "Yes, yes, dear Cosette, pack your things as this man is taking you away."

Cosette walked at a normal speed out of sight but she returned with a few things bundled up suspiciously quickly.

Javert nodded to the Thénardiers before turning and leaving, barely pausing to check that Cosette was actually following him.

Though he had seen nothing technically unlawful – and he had been very watchful – Javert could not rid himself of the feeling that something underhanded was going on here. He resolved to report the matter to the local police before heading back to his post in Montreuil.

Cosette had fortunately fallen asleep shortly after they had gotten into the fiacre but now she was awake and doing nothing but staring at him and Javert honestly did not know what to do.

He had no paperwork to fill out, he was not tired, and he had already finished the book he could not read in a fiacre because it made him slightly ill. He could not look at Cosette but he could still feel her eyes on him. They would arrive at Montreuil within a few hours but it could not come soon enough. He could not escape this girl until then and it was like she was deliberately attempting to make him uncomfortable.

After valiantly ignoring her for far longer than a reasonable person should have to, he finally gave in. "Yes?"

"Are we really going to see my mother?" Cosette asked. It was the first time he had heard her speak and her voice was a little hoarse.

"I only lie when it is necessary in the course of my duties as a police inspector," Javert said crisply. "Deceiving young girls about their mothers does not fall under that purview."

"I didn't know that I even had a mother," Cosette said wonderingly.

"Everyone has a mother," Javert said shortly. It was a matter of pure biology.

"I never did," Cosette disagreed. "Madame always said that it was because of how useless I was."

"Well she was wrong," Javert said, not so much to comfort the child but because what had been said was inaccurate.

"Is she pretty?" was Cosette's next question. It seemed that once she started she just couldn't stop. "I remember a pretty woman who was nice to me but I don't know who she is."

Javert thought of the woman lying in the bed, her hair shorn off and her teeth missing, barely aware of what was going on. A prostitute.

"That was probably your mother," Javert replied.

"Does she love me?" Cosette asked in a smaller voice, as if she were afraid to hear the answer.

"She had the mayor of our town send me to bring you to her and she gave the Thénardiers entirely too much money to take care of you," Javert replied.

Cosette nodded gravely. "Am I going to have to go back?"

That, Javert felt comfortable enough to answer directly. "No, you won't. Monsieur Madeleine will never allow it."

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