A/N: And here we go! Thanks for the reviews!
Chapter 31: The Running Men
'Of course this would be a wave building up before it breaks on the shore,' Enjolras notes as he finally steps into the shambles of the law office. For once, Bossuet's cubicle, the one nearest the door, is in better shape than Enjolras' own workspace; the furniture may be turned over and the drawers pulled out in Bossuet's side of the room, but nothing is left standing on Enjolras' side at the far end. Amid the splinters and twisted metal lying about, Enjolras finds broken glass surrounding the framed photos he once kept on his desk. Two of the pictures, namely one of Eponine as well as the latest sonogram of little Ian, have been torn down the center. Enjolras discreetly pockets the fragments even as he hears footsteps in the doorway. "This is it."
Eponine shakes her head as she carefully sidesteps some broken glass. "I sent Tess on to get some coffee for herself while I talked to the police. They're pretty sure they can tie this in to what happened to Magnussen."
"As logical as it may seem, that connection will need a lot more evidence to hold up to a proper investigation." He buries his face in her hair for a moment, just to take in the comforting lavender scent of her shampoo. "I already called Courf, Feuilly, Bahorel, and Bossuet to come here, but it will be a while till we can get this place cleaned up. Tess might have to sit tight for some time."
"I have that covered, actually," Eponine says lightly as she chucks his chin. "I have to get to Saint Michel in a little while; I'm on call today since there is a fun run going on today and we always need a trauma team on standby. Tess can hang out at my office or at the cafeteria."
He takes her hand and kisses her knuckles. "Do you need me to drop you two off?"
"Oh we'll be fine. You won't get back here in time to meet the guys if you drive us." She kisses his cheek. "Let me know when you're done here, or if I can be of help."
"Of course," Enjolras says, squeezing her hand just to let her know he appreciates this gesture of support. He can think of only a few other people with that same terrifyingly fierce sense of loyalty. 'There's no use in asking her to take a step back from this matter; she'd never allow it,' he thinks as he listens to her footsteps heading towards the elevator.
It isn't long till he hears the loud chatter that is so characteristic of his friends making an entrance. Feuilly swears as he surveys the pile of broken furniture and torn paper that used to be his workspace. "I am surprised they didn't burn down this entire place."
"They're smart enough to at least avoid charges of arson," Bahorel growls. He kicks aside a broken chair. "The bastards knew what they were about; they even covered the security cameras."
"Not the traffic cameras though. I am sure that Gavroche and Mr. Fauchelevent can pull something from those," Bossuet points out philosophically. He whistles as a shard of metal nearly buries itself in his thumb. "All we need is a license plate of a getaway car."
"That is if they even used one," Feuilly points out. "I know a bunch of goons who would rather trust their feet than motorized transport. It gets them into more spaces."
"That's true." Enjolras picks up the bits of string and paper that had once covered his corkboard. He tugs at the tangle between his fingers for a moment before discarding it all in one of the trash bags that Courfeyrac has brought. "Have you figured out if anything else is missing?"
Feuilly shrugs. "All our papers. We had way too many controversial files here."
"We still do," Enjolras says as he holds out his hands. "We have backups."
"Of our own previous cases, yes. We keep a digital archive—that was your idea," Bahorel replies. "But that's probably not what these jokers were after,"
A slight smile tugs at Enjolras' lips. "You're right. All the files that have to do with this present case are public records. We always request for copies, not originals. The originals are surely still extant at the offices concerned such as at the government offices, the courthouses, and even the university where Florence and Jehan are based."
"Isn't that mostly because of a matter of policy and propriety?" Bahorel asks.
"Well now it's served another practical purpose," Enjolras answers nonchalantly.
Courfeyrac bursts out laughing. "Do you mean to say you've pretty much cached information everywhere and actually in plain sight of whoever just broke in?"
"In a roundabout way, yes. I have only taken the liberty of tracking and tagging the necessary documents," Enjolras says.
"It's only a matter of time till someone makes the connections and either acquires those archives or destroys them too," Bossuet remarks. "In other circumstances we would be the backup system then!"
"Not just us," Courfeyrac concurs. "You don't have an eidetic or photographic memory, and you're not as crazy as Magnussen to store up everything in your head just in case you end up in an almost lobotomized state, heaven forbid. This is why I am sure that you left some information at home, and even at Eponine's office at Saint-Michel."
"The Blakeneys are also privy to some copies, while nearly all our video surveillance is also backed up on Mr. Fauchelevent's system. Gavroche also has files too." Enjolras pauses just to see the light of comprehension on his friends' faces. "At this point one of our immediate tasks should be to secure our primary sources."
"Such as that girl I saw Eponine with just a while back," Feuilly notes. "That's Tess, am I right? I've seen her at the halfway house."
"Yes, her. Eponine and I are putting her up for the time being," Enjolras informs them. "She has some information concerning the sniper and his employer."
Feuilly takes a deep breath before nodding. "So aside from us, and maybe the people at the halfway house, no one knows she's staying with you guys?"
"I haven't established that," Enjolras admits. 'For all I know someone such as that Mr. Deeds could have been following Tess all night,' he realizes.
Bossuet laughs ruefully. "We've been had, I cannot believe it."
"I wouldn't be gloating too long if I was the sorry sod behind this," Bahorel says as he claps his friend on the back. "The way I see it, this person just dropped his pants and is inviting us to kick his butt."
Enjolras rolls his eyes at this crass statement but all the same he is not one to simply belittle this threat. As he is cleaning up the fragments of his desk, he catches a glimpse of the traffic on the thoroughfare below. 'That's the tail end of the morning rush,' he observes, seeing that most of the vehicles are small cars, occasionally interspersed with a van or lorry. 'The big cargo trucks won't start blocking up the road till about noon.'
"Hey there Chief, is everything alright?" Feuilly calls. "Got anything more you want to throw out?"
"Just a moment," Enjolras mutters. In all the years he's been working in this neighbourhood, he's never paid too much attention to the general patterns of traffic, save for when he needs to know the best time to leave a place in order to avoid the rush hour. 'Whoever broke in here moved quickly, and within a particular time window at that.'
By now Courfeyrac is also at the window. "Something wrong down there?"
"Courf, what time do you usually hear the cargo trucks driving by your place?" Enjolras asks.
"Before midnight. That's when they come in from out of town," Courfeyrac replies confusedly. "You think the crooks hid something then?"
"No, they avoided it," Enjolras explains. "Given the usual traffic in this area, that would mean that the best hour to have been here and unseen would have been perhaps between in the morning up to three. That is when the first out of town travellers arrive on the ferries as well as the buses that come from the riverside road. This narrows down a great deal in terms of surveillance and alibis."
"Which we could corroborate with the security camera blackout," Courfeyrac adds enthusiastically. "Now this little hitch has turned into their blunder."
"The more they strike, the more evidence they leave behind," Bahorel agrees. "That's why most criminals won't try the same thing twice."
"Emphasis on most," Enjolras remarks even as he sends a text message to Gavroche politely asking him to review the traffic surveillance taken at the time window he has just outlined. It takes the better part of an hour before the office is cleared up enough to allow them to move in some plastic chairs and an old table to serve as a temporary sort of workspace, or at least a place to park their laptops. As soon as this is done Enjolras hears his phone ring. "That was fast, Gavroche," he greets.
"You're not going to like this," Gavroche replies. "So there was this blue four door van seen near the office. The license plates were covered, but I can tell you that this van got ditched in the parking lot near Pier 1. There's no camera there, so that leaves us shooting in the dark."
"Not if the car is still there. The SOCO would like to know that," Enjolras says. "Please send it along."
"You may as well send Bahorel on down. I'm pretty sure there's gunnery in that car he'd like to see and show to Officer Hooper," Gavroche adds mischievously.
"Perhaps later. Thank you." Enjolras smirks as he hears his brother in law end the call. "In the meantime we have to get Tess to identify someone," he tells his friends.
"From which particular line up?" Feuilly asks.
"Security agencies." Enjolras sets down his own laptop and types in a clearance in order to pull up rosters and pictures, but from the databases of the Bureau of Investigations. 'Sometimes these groups are not particularly choosy as to their personnel,' he notes as he begins downloading lists.
Feuilly clucks his tongue when he sees what Enjolras is up to. "Why is it you always end up investigating the ones who look as if they could break you in half?"
"Occupational hazards," Enjolras deadpans as he saves his list. He touches Feuilly's shoulder. "Will you also go to Saint-Michel? I believe that you would be able to help Tess shed some light on this situation."
Feuilly nods. "We have to keep this from getting back to the halfway house. Those kids shouldn't be in this crossfire."
"I've already warned Cecily; she's already on her guard," Enjolras reassures him. "Bahorel will get in touch with the SOCO once they are done with their work. Courfeyrac, you have to get in touch with the Blakeneys. Bossuet, you must visit Florence at the university and ask her about the other benefactors besides Magnussen. Men like him lay out their beneficence in concert. Jehan may know something too."
After discussing a few more matters, they all leave the office for their respective assignments. When Enjolras and Feuilly arrive at Saint Michel, they find Combeferre and Tess sitting in Eponine's office. "I knew it was a matter of time till you'd get here," Combeferre greets them. "I heard about what happened at the law office."
"It's dire but not as much as it looks." Enjolras sets down his laptop on the desk. "We were able to get the line-up downloaded," he informs Tess. "Are you sure you want to do this?"
Tess nods. "Can't live always worrying about a bullet to my back." She shakes her head as she begins scrolling through the photos and names. "Nope, they all look too nice."
"Maybe he was in disguise?" Feuilly volunteers.
"What, to scare me and Johannes?" Tess drawls before suddenly she goes still. "There. That's Mr. Deeds. But with a different name."
"Simon Garbe, credentials under the Fouche firm," Enjolras reads. "How current is this?"
"Updated yesterday," Combeferre replies as he points to the fine print at the bottom of the screen. "I don't hear good things about Fouche; he's brilliant and ruthless. You don't mean to face him?"
Enjolras reaches in his pocket, where his fingers brush against the fragments of the photos. "It may be necessary. If so, I'm not turning back."