THE ALTERED COURSE

BY:  ROSE CARR

CHAPTER SIX

It was late evening when the group arrived on the outskirts of Paris. Andre announced that they would make camp near the river, almost at the same site where Javert had been found.

Tired but wanting to go on into the city, Javert and Richelleen talked to Andre, telling him of their plans.

Javert explained to Andre, " I do not want any of us to walk into a situation without knowing all the facts. I can be of more service to you and the others after I have learned how much the police know about my own disappearance. I believe that returning to my own home will be the first step in finding out where we stand."

"What ever you think is best Monsieur Javert," Andre said, "we will do. You are after all the expert in Police matters." Andre had reservations about Richelleen going with Javert into an unknown, possibly dangerous situation, but he also knew better than to try and talk her out of going. It would seem even the inimitable Inspector Javert could not change her mind once it was made up. "We will wait here until we hear from you, and please, both of you be careful."

"I keep a small flat near St. Germaine," explained Javert as he and Richelleen rode into the city. "I pay the rent 6 months in advance, plus a little extra for the landlord to keep watch on it when I am away."

"Javert," Richelleen began, "do you really think your long absence from your position has gone unnoticed?"

"I have a certain amount of leeway in my comings and goings as an Inspector," he said. My Superiors may simply think I have been on an assignment and if that is the case, that thinking may work in our favor."

"But wouldn't someone have asked about you by now," she said, " or come to your home to check on you?"

"There is much jealousy and animosity amongst the Constabulary, so communication between the different branches is often slow or non-existent. No one would want to admit that they did not know the whereabouts of one of their Inspectors. If any one has been to my home, Monsieur Flaubert, my landlord will know." It was dark and had started misting by the time they reached the inner city. Javert remembered a small stable near his home were they could board the horses and suggested Richelleen wait outside while he had them taken care of.

"Perhaps I should be the one to take the horses into the stable," Richelleen said. "No one knows me, and if someone has been looking for you......"

"Richelleen," Javert began, "If someone has been looking for me they would....."

"They would check all the places you frequent Javert, because that is exactly what you would do if you were hunting someone," Richelleen finished.

Javert sat for a moment idly stroking Liberte's head, considering what she had said. "Richelleen," he said, "your thinking is flawless and your are of course correct in this matter." Dismounting from Liberte he handed the reins to her and waited in the shadows of a nearby building while she saw to the horses. When she emerged from the stable he fell in step beside her, and together they hurried to his flat in the swirling mist, the sound of their footsteps echoing through the cobbled stone streets.

Within a few minutes they arrived at a modest, nondescript building. Javert took Richelleen by the arm as they entered the hallway.

"Richelleen," he whispered, indicating the alcove just inside the entrance, "Please stand over there while I check inside the room." Standing a few feet away, she saw him kneel on one knee in front of the door and pull a brick out from under the door way, a key appeared in his hand and he put the brick back in place. Rising to his feet he carefully inserted the key in the slot and slowly turned it. The slight snick the key made as it tripped the lock sounded thunderous to Richelleen in the silent hallway causing her to jump. Peering around the corner she watched intently as Javert turned the door knob and pushed open the door.

The squeaking of the rusty hinges as the door opened plus the musty smell coming from within was indication enough that the room had not been used for some time. Entering the room and making a quick check he was soon satisfied that all was as it should be. Javert stepped out into the hallway and called for Richelleen. He stood aside and let her pass, holding high the oil lamp he had found and lit.

Looking past the threshold, she was disheartened by what she saw. The room was small, almost monastic in nature, with dull ivory colored walls devoid of any decorations and sparsely furnished. A narrow bed covered with a white sheet, a gray wool blanket and a single pillow was pushed against the far wall. Two wooden chairs and a small table sat in front of the lone window, hung with plain white curtains. An old battered black stove sitting in a corner, near which lay a small bundle of cut wood, completed the furnishings.

The room neither held nor reflected any of the warmth and personality of the man she had come to know and care for. What a sad sterile existence he had led, she thought. How terrible that someone so full of passion should have to live in this cold colorless place, so barren and devoid of joy. She did not want to upset him, nor did she think he would understand her distress. The clues the room gave her about his previous existence were evidence enough that there had been no love in his life. Damn the person who had instilled the rules in him that demanded he be false to his deepest needs. Damn them.

"Madame is all right?" came Javert's voice from behind her.

"Madame is fine," she said a little too gaily as she walked into the room ahead of him. She laid her tapestry bag on the bed and rummaged through the contents saying, "Are you hungry? I think I have some things in here we can eat. I have sausage, cheese and a small loaf of bread." Crossing to the table she started laying out the small packets of food as Javert walked over to join her, setting the lamp down and pulling out her chair.

"I am worried about Roland," Richelleen said as they sat down to eat their small supper, "in spite of what he attempted to do he is not a bad or evil person. He does however know some truly bad people and I hope he has not gone to them for help. If he has fallen in with them...." The silence grew deeper and she stopped speaking, taking a good look at Javert. He has not heard a word I have said she thought. He was sitting with his arms folded in front of him, staring out the window into the darkened street. Sitting back in her chair she wondered what he was thinking but resisted the urge to pry. He would tell her when he was ready.

Javert was only half listening to Richelleen, he was thinking back to his visit with Roland and prayed that the young man took his advice and was with someone who could help him. He remembered the hopelessness he felt when he came face to face with realities he could not resolve. He did not wish the same demons to visit Roland. If only some of my contacts are still available, he mused, I could use them to get information that would help us find him. As for young Antoine, it might prove a simple matter to free him, providing he had not already been tried and sent away to prison. Slowly he became aware of Richelleen's stare and turned away from the window to face her. Puzzled by the look on her face, he said: "Richelleen, is there anything wrong?"

She smiled wistfully, saying, "No, there is nothing wrong. I was just wondering where you had gone?"

Javert seemed flustered by her question and said, "Gone? Oh, ....pardon me Richelleen, I was thinking..... of Antoine, and of Roland. I.... I apologize for seeming distant or being rude, but I..." his voice trailed off and Richelleen walked around the small table and knelt down before him, taking his large hands in her small soft ones.

"You misunderstand me Javert. I am not upset with you, and you were not being rude. You were just trying to figure out the best way to help us. I am a little tired though, do you think we could get some water in here?" Reading his expression she said, "For drinking and cleaning up."

"Ah, but of course, I am so sorry, you must be exhausted," he began. "I will go get some water right away."

Javert left the room for a short while returning with a pail of water. When Richelleen was done, he emptied the water and poured some for himself. When he had completed his toiletries he carefully returned everything to it's proper place. Richelleen smiled to herself as she witnessed what must have been his nightly ritual when he lived alone. Javert extinguished the lamp before he got undressed and into bed. She could see him moving in the dim light from the window, his silver hair glowing faintly in the dark.

Like a ghost she thought, moving towards her in the night. She felt his weight as he sat on the edge of the bed and then the warmth of his body as he slid in beside her. He put his arm out for her so she could move closer. Laying her head on his broad shoulder she sighed contentedly, enjoying the easy silence that lay between them. After a moment she started to say something but realized he had already fallen asleep. Snuggling a little closer, she willed the events of the day from her mind and lay still, letting the sound of his breathing lull her to sleep.

***

Andre lay in his improvised bed under the stars listening to the river whisper it's secrets to him as it rushed past in the night. He loved sleeping out like this, even in the cold and light mist. It brought back memories of his youth. The trees overhead blocked the worst of it and the oilskin he used on the ground and over him kept him dry. He hoped Javert and Richelleen had made it to their destination safely. Tomorrow the real work would begin. It distressed him greatly that Roland had run; he had hoped he would be strong and face up to his deeds. Up until that point in time, Andre had still hoped Roland would be the one to succeed him. Now the chances of him doing that were gone. He did not know what tomorrow might bring and for an instant that thought made him laugh; a Gypsy wondering about the future! Maybe he should consult a fortune teller, it might save him a lot of time and trouble.

***

The dingy anonymity of the flophouse suited Roland well enough, but it's proximity to the sewers and the smell emanating from them was starting to make him nauseous. Why did I come here, Roland thought to himself. Clutching his arms to his stomach and rolling over on his side he feigned sleep hoping no one would come near him. Two of the men he had seen earlier in the tavern came in and took the pallets next to him. They were swilling a foul smelling brew and bragging about a job they planned to do. It soon became appalling clear to Roland that the job the unsavory pair was discussing was a robbery! Oh great he thought, just what I need.

Please he silently begged the heavens, don't let them know I can hear them. He planned to leave at first light and wanted no trouble. Roland knew he had to go back and face his people, but he still wanted a chance to make things right again. He had to. The guilt he had inside him was eating away his soul. If he was ever to find peace he had to try and right the wrongs he had done. Thankfully the room quieted down as the would be crooks passed out and began snoring. Clutching his jacket tight around him he tried to get some rest. ***

Morning brought soft sunlight streaming through the window, awakening Richelleen. She opened her eyes and looked around her. No, she thought, the place does not look any better in the daylight then it did in the dark. She raised herself up on one elbow and looked at Javert. Although yesterdays journey had been rough, he appeared rested and somehow much younger than when she saw him that first tragic day. She traced a line with her finger up the middle of his smooth almost hairless chest, across his throat and chin stopping at his lips. He has such lovely lips she thought, gently caressing them with her fingertips. He murmured and opened his eyes, a smile lighting them as he saw her face.

"Good Morning", she said.

His arms slid around her waist and he raised up, rolling over until she lay beneath him. Pulling his head back, his hair fell across his face and she reached a hand to smooth it back. He kissed the inside of her hand and held it close to his cheek for a moment and bent his head to give her a quick kiss. He felt her arms slide around him, sensuous and silky, drawing him closer, his desire for her flickering, threatening to burst into flame when he wrenched her arms from around his trembling body.

"Javert, what is wrong?" she asked, alarmed by his actions.

"Nothing Richelleen, " he answered shaking his head, "everything."

"What is it mon cher? Please, tell me," she asked. "Are you upset with me, is it something I have done?"

"Oh....Oh no. No it is not you," he said in an anguished voice. "It is me, it is this place. My God Richelleen, look around you. How could I bring you here, expect you to...."

Looking around her she said, "This place? Javert I don't care about this place!"

"No, you don't understand," he groaned, sitting up, burying his face in his hands. "This place is.......like me Richelleen...barren and cold. What would your life be like? You would die if you had to live in such a place with.... someone like me."

Richelleen scrambled to her knees in front of him, pulling his hands away from his face. "Javert," she said, putting her hands on his cheeks and making him look at her, "this place is not who you are. This place only reflects what they made you believe you were."

"I do not understand," he said, his eyes filled with bewilderment. "They?"

"The creatures that taught you things,.... discipline, rules and hate for all that you were. They taught you how to survive Javert, but not how to live. The short time I have known you I have seen the love and passion you have inside your heart. It is as I told you before; your good is here," she said touching his chest, "you live inside here and are the same person inside, no matter where you are."

Looking into her face, the dark eyes filled with concern and love, Javert began to understand, he could be more than what he was. This loving passionate woman made him believe he could live as a man....not just a thing. Touching her cheek he was amazed at the rush of feelings she evoked in him, the thrill of anticipation she aroused in him. His fingers outlined her features one by one, as if to imprint them on his mind.

He turned and slid his arms around her, laying her back on the bed. His mouth searched hungrily for hers, found it, pushed it open with his tongue, seeking, wanting more and more of her. Bending his head to her he kissed her brow, her nose, the corner of her mouth. Moving slowly down her throat he trailed little delicate bites until he reached the tender curves of her breasts, gently kneading and suckling each until the flesh was taut and ruched. Slowly he moved to shower kisses on the smooth undersides before moving back to the swollen sensitive tips.

She moved restlessly , each touch arousing her more than the one before. He could feel her start to undulate beneath him as her breath quickened and she sought to draw him closer. Encouraged by her reactions and taking an ineffable delight in pleasing her, he bent to her once more, exploring the silken length of her, his hands and tongue finding hidden places that made her whisper and moan of things he once thought forbidden to him. Nuzzling, teasing, he descended to the final pleasure until her breaths came in gasps and she could stand no more. Could do no more but cry out his name and reach for him. Rising up and grasping her slim hips in his large hands, her satiny thighs parted willingly for him. Ever so gently he pulled her up against him, a ragged cry of "Oh, God, my Richelleen," escaping his throat as he felt her warmth encircle him. His ardor increased as her arms twined around him like living silken vines. Clinging to him, matching his rhythm, her cries mingled with his, until together they burst forth in a rush of inexpressible exquisite release.

Spent, he lay beside her side, his head upon her chest listening to the slowing of heartbeat. He was discovering that the faith he once had for the laws of man and church were not nearly as strong as the love he felt for her. Where his life had once been barren it was now filled with wonderment. Nothing in all the dogma he had been taught and believed in could now convince him that what he felt for her was unblessed. Every time he lay with her was consecrated, a benediction. How could he not love her and do everything in his power to help her and her people. He hated to move, wanting to stay as he was forever, but there important things he had left to do. Soon he would have to get dressed and be on his way.

Richelleen had dozed off and awoke with a start. There was an emptiness in the room, a stillness and in an instant she realized why, Javert was gone. Sitting up she saw a piece of note paper propped up on the table against the base of the lamp. Scooting off the bed she padded over to the table to pick up the note.

My Dear Madame Richelleen, the note began, she smiled at the formal tone that was so like him and read on. I have gone to see my immediate superior. I must submit a report to him concerning the circumstances of my absence. If all goes well I will be home by late afternoon. Please wait for me until I return. While I am out I will make inquires as to the fate of young Antoine. If there is anything you require please ask Monsieur Flaubert for assistance. He has been instructed to help you in any way possible. Best Regards, Javert, Inspector First Class

Smiling, she put down the note and looked out of the window. The room seemed colder without him, darker; she could not wait for his return.

***

Roland awoke, his teeth chattering from the cold. The thin pallet used as a bed did nothing to block out the iciness of the stone floor. Looking around in the early morning light he did not see anyone stirring. Standing up, he slipped on the jacket he had been using to cover himself and tip toed his way around the sleeping bodies. He did not see the two he had overheard last night and was glad. He hoped they did not go through with their plans to rob the church. Surely they could not be stupid enough to try and rob a church of it's gold icons. Every policeman in Paris would be after them! Making his way out to the street, he took a deep breath of fresh air. Where should he start? Maybe the church would be the perfect place for him to begin. At least the sisters would offer him a hot breakfast. Wrapping his jacket closer around him to ward off the chilly morning air, he headed for St. Germaine's.

***

Not accustomed to sitting around and waiting, Richelleen grew nervous. She had felt a little lightheaded and queasy when she first awoke and attributed it to the events of the past few days. Heating some water on the little black stove she made herself some peppermint tea. She had just sat down to drink it when she heard a soft knock on the door. Putting her cup down she raced to the door and threw it open. Her eyes grew wide in surprise for while it was Javert who stood before her, she was not prepared for the way he looked.

"Richelleen," Javert said, wondering why she was standing in front of him and had not moved to let him in, "may I come in?"

She blinked her eyes stood aside and stammered, "Why,..... yes, of course. Please excuse me, but you look so different."

"Different," he said, "what do you mean?"

Richelleen had never seen Javert in his complete uniform, complete with his tall black hat and police baton. The effect was stunning. She could understand why criminals feared him, he was every inch the Inspector. Had she not seen the light in his eyes and the slight smile on his lips she would have feared him too. "Your clothes," she said, "you are really..... what you said you were. I.... mean, I know you told me what you were, but you just never looked the part."

Javert walked to stand in front of her and looked deep into her eyes. He lay his hand on her cheek saying, "I am still the same man you held in your arms a few hours ago Richelleen, the uniform has not changed that. This uniform represents what I do, not who I am. You made me see that."

Emotions welled up in her chest, tears spilled from her eyes. She flung her arms around him and buried her head in his chest. Holding her close for a few moments he then asked her, "Do you not want to know about the things I have learned today? Some of what I learned is good, some...may not please you very much."

Lowering her arms and wiping a tear away she smiled up at him and said, "Yes, of course I want to hear, please come sit at the table. I will make you some tea."

"Well, I am still an Inspector," he said. " I did not put everything down in my report that I should have, but it was enough to convince them that I had a legitimate reason for being gone so long. That is my good news."

Richelleen did not want to hurry him so she waited, knowing he would go on.

"Monsieur Antoine... he has been tried and sentenced." Seeing the stricken look in her eyes, he quickly continued. "It is not as bad as you think; he was found guilty of theft and sentenced to six months in prison. He is young and if he does not cause any trouble he will be out soon. I am truly sorry Richelleen, but there is nothing I can do to shorten his sentence."

"Ah..six....six months, I guess it could have been much worse. Thank you. Thank you for trying. We should go tell my father. He will want to know so he can get word to his family. Please, we should go now."

Nodding his head in agreement Javert helped her on with her cloak and they left the building to make the short trip to the stables. Richelleen, who had been silent, stopped and turned to Javert before they went into the stables. "Javert," she began, "you are right, Antoine could have met a worse fate. Andre will see it that way too."

They mounted the horses and rode side by side down the street, passed St. Germaine's, unaware that the other person they were seeking was just a few feet away.

to be continued. . .

© 1997 Rose Carr

Contact the author:Rosematuse@aol.com

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