13 (14)
IN WHICH A POLICE OFFICER GIVES A LAWYER TWO COUPS DE POIGN
ON REACHING Number 14, Rue de Pontoise, he went upstairs and asked for the chief of police.
“The chief of police is not in,” said one of the office boys; “but there is an inspector who answers for him. Would you like to speak to him? is it urgent?”
“Yes,” said Marius.
The office boy introduced him into the chiefs office. A man of tall stature was standing there, behind a railing, in front of a stove, and holding up with both hands the flaps of a huge overcoat with three layered flaps. He had a square face, a thin and firm mouth, very fierce, bushy, greyish whiskers, and an eye that would turn your pockets inside out. You might have said of this eye, not that it penetrated, but that it ransacked.
This man’s appearance was not much less ferocious or formidable than Jondrette’s; it is sometimes no less startling to meet the dog than the wolf.
“What do you wish?” said he to Marius, without adding monsieur.
“The chief of police?”
“He is absent. I answer for him.”
“It is a very secret affair.”
“Speak, then.”
“And very urgent.”
“Then speak quickly.”
This man, calm and abrupt, was at the same time alarming and reassuring. He inspired fear and confidence. Marius related his adventure.—That a person whom he only knew by sight was to be drawn into an ambush that very evening; that occupying the room next the place, he, Marius Pontmercy, attorney, had heard the whole plot through the partition; that the scoundrel who had contrived the plot was named Jondrette; that he had accomplices, probably prowlers of the barrières, among others a certain Panchaud, alias Printanier, alias Bigrenaille; that Jondrette’s daughters would stand watch; that there was no means of warning the threatened man, as not even his name was known; and finally, that all this was to be done at six o‘clock that evening, at the most desolate spot on the Boulevard de l’Hôpital, in the house numbered 50-52.
At that number the inspector raised his head, and said coolly:
“It is then in the room at the end of the hall?”
“Exactly,” said Marius, and he added, “Do you know that house?”
The inspector remained silent a moment, then answered, warming the heel of his boot at the door of the stove:
“It seems so.”
He continued between his teeth, speaking less to Marius than to his cravat.
“There ought to be a dash of Patron-Minette in this.”
That word struck Marius.
“Patron-Minette,” said he. “Indeed, I heard that word pronounced.”
And he related to the inspector the dialogue between the long-haired man and the bearded man in the snow behind the wall on the Rue du Petit Banquier.
The inspector muttered:
“The long-haired one must be Brujon, and the bearded one must be Demi-Liard, alias Deux-Milliards.”
He had dropped his eyes again, and was considering.
“As to the Father What‘s-his-name, I have a suspicion of who he is. There, I have burnt my coat. They always make too much fire in these cursed stoves. Number 50-52. Old Gorbeau property.”
Then he looked at Marius:
“You have seen only this bearded man and this long-haired man?”
“And Panchaud.”
“You did not see a sort of little devilish rat prowling about there?”
“No.”
“Nor a great, big, clumsy heap, like the elephant in the Jardin des Plantes?”
“No.”
“Nor a villain who has the appearance of an old red cue?”
“No.”
“As to the fourth nobody sees him, not even his helpers, clerks, and agents. It is not very surprising that you did not see him.”
“No. What are all these beings?” inquired Marius.
The inspector answered:
“And then it is not their hour.”
He relapsed into silence, then resumed:
“No. 50-52. I know the shanty. Impossible to hide ourselves in the interior without the artists perceiving us, then they would leave and break up the play. They are so modest! the public bothers them. No way, no way. I want to hear them sing, and make them dance.”
This monologue finished, he turned towards Marius and asked him looking steadily at him:
“Will you be afraid?”
“Of what?” said Marius.
“Of these men?”
“No more than of you!” replied Marius rudely, who began to notice that this police spy had not yet called him monsieur.
The inspector looked at Marius still more steadily and continued with a sententious solemnity:
“You speak now like a brave man and an honest man. Courage does not fear crime, and honesty does not fear authority.”
Marius interrupted him:
“That is well enough; but what are you going to do?”
The inspector merely answered:
“The lodgers in that house have latch-keys to get in with at night. You must have one?”
“Yes,” said Marius.
“Do you have it with you?”
“Yes.”
“Give it to me,” said the inspector.
Marius took his key from his waistcoat, handed it to the inspector, and added:
“If you trust me you will come in force.”
The inspector threw a glance upon Marius such as Voltaire would have thrown upon a provincial academician who had proposed a rhyme to him; with a single movement he plunged both his hands, which were enormous, into the two immense pockets of his overcoat, and took out two small steel pistols, of the kind called fisticuffs. He presented them to Marius, saying hastily and abruptly:
“Take these. Go back home. Hide yourself in your room; let them think you have gone out. They are loaded. Each with two balls. You will watch; there is a hole in the wall, as you have told me. The men will come. Let them go on a little. When you deem the affair at a point, and when it is time to stop it, you will fire off a pistol. Not too soon. The rest is my affair. A pistol shot in the air, into the ceiling, no matter where. Above all, not too soon. Wait till they start committing the felony; you are a lawyer, you know what that is.”
Marius took the pistols and put them in the side pocket of his coat.
“They make a bulge that way, they show,” said the inspector. “Put them in your vest pockets rather.”
Marius hid the pistols in his vest pockets.
“Now,” pursued the inspector, “there is not a minute to be lost by anybody. What time is it? Half past two. It is at seven?”
“Six o‘clock,” said Marius.
“I have time enough,” continued the inspector, “but I have only enough. Forget nothing of what I have told you. Bang. A pistol shot.”
“Be assured,” answered Marius.
And as Marius placed his hand on the latch of the door to go out, the inspector called to him:
“By the way, if you need me between now and then, come or send here. You will ask for Inspector Javert.”