News of his sister’s death had reached him just two days before. The Prefect had few details, though assured Javert that she had died of natural causes, leaving her small daughter to be cared for.
As the service drew to a close before him, Javert stepped forward, casting his shadow silently over the weeping child. Unaware of this giant’s presence until now, the small girl shuddered inwardly as she peered up at him.
They finally reached his apartments as night settled around them. After paying his fair, Javert carried the now sleeping Rose up to his rooms. Upon entering he discovered a small hope chest lying on the floor. Before pausing to read the attached note, he lay Rose gently upon his bed, leaving his coat as a blanket. Only after he assured himself she would sleep the night in relative peace did he again address the note. It read simply thus:
"I have taken the liberty of having your niece’s belongings sent to you. You will find them, in their entirety, within the chest. I am also giving you the next three days off, so that you might settle any remaining affairs and make arrangements regarding your new charge. I look forward to speaking to you upon your return .
The Prefect"
Sighing deeply, Javert returned the letter to sit upon the chest as he stretched himself upon the couch. There was a girl’s school not far from there that Rose could attend, and he could hire a sitter for the evenings on which he had to work. He could easily set up a small bed in his office, and allow Rose to have his room. Surely it would be large enough to suit one so small. As sleep finally claimed Javert, remaining worries faded into faceless images, threatening to rob him of peace, though finally subsiding.
Upon wakening, Javert began his three-day vacation by visiting the market. Though he could afford minimal eating habits, Rose could not. Poverty had already began to rob her of proper growth. Javert was determined that, from now on, she would awaken to the scent of fresh bread, fruit, and warm honey. As the days past, Rose was enrolled in school, a sitter was hired, and dressers were bought to adorn Rose’s room. Despite Javert’s initial concerns, everything seemed to be falling into place. Javert slept after taking Rose to school, and after picking her up, they would spend the afternoons together. As dusk fell, they would return home to have supper with the sitter before Javert would depart. He would then return early in the morning, breakfast in hand.
Rose thrived in her new settings, and Javert, while altering no aspects of his persona, was at last able to glimpse what was often whispered beyond his grasp. An image of Love had at last etched itself into Javert’s heart. Though this did little for the criminals of Paris. Javert continued to pursue them with the as much zeal as before…grinning slightly as he threw them to the mercy of Justice.
Thus the days passed, and the weeks, peacefully wishing the months away. Spring left in its wake a brief summer, which drew to a close as a chill wove itself into the night air. And finally winter approached, shrouding Paris in bleak clouds of gray. The winds whispered their warnings to all who would listen, and howled as they were ignored.
With the holiday soon approaching, Javert decided to treat Rose to dinner at a small café. Javert’s eyes shown with silent pride as Rose spoke of all she was learning at school, and of a boy she had suddenly developed a favor for. Dinner drew to a close as the black clouds of night thickened. Wanting to enjoy the evening’s air, they decided to simply stroll home.
Javert suddenly grew uneasy as they continued down an alleyway. His lingering suspicions shimmered to grim reality as his eyes fell on two figures in the distance. Light from a nearby tavern revealed a rather heavyset youth towering over an elderly woman, apparently attempting to rob her. With swift precision, Javert instructed Rose to remain concealed in the shadows as he moved to apprehend the young man. Moving silently through the night, Javert waited until he was nearly within striking distance to announce himself. His voice split the silence.
"It’s a tad cowardly to rob from those who cannot defend themselves." Startled by Javert’s presence and the contempt in his voice, the young robber spun in Javert’s direction, firing a single shot before taking to his heels. Javert’s hand went instinctively to his shoulder as he felt the bullet imbed itself into his shoulder. Ignoring the pain, Javert continued to chase the thief. The youth able to fire one more shot before disappearing into the shadows. Though the second shot missed him completely, the throbbing in Javert’s shoulder would no longer be ignored. He decided he would have it tended to as he returned to Rose. When he found her, a dark pool of scarlet had already begun to form under her. The thief’s second bullet had indeed found a victim.
Realization swept over him in sickening waves, taking him to his knees. Overwhelmed with grief, Javert could do nothing but cradle her in his arms as he wept into the unfeeling night.
Months later Javert stood in the rear of a courtroom as sentence was pronounced on a young man. Javert’s eyes peered into those of his niece’s murderer, betraying his hatred. Javert only wished he could perform the execution himself. This criminal, hardly more than a boy, had robbed Javert of the only joy he had known. The love that had so softly touched Javert’s heart had blackened, killing all that remained.
Rose was buried next to her mother. Attempting to avoid the pain, Javert simply threw himself into his labors, awaiting the day he would once again meet Valjean. As the years slipped by, his hatred of all that was criminal grew, feeding on his guilt. And lying awake at night, he secretly yearned for death…wishing an end to his pain.