"huh-huh-huh-hullo!" Javert was almost taken by surprise by the grotesquely fat man in the fez, who huffed and puffed up the path to the House of Law. In one chubby paw he held a curious tin box; the other waved at Javert frantically. the inspector frowned. He had been waiting for an Envoy from the Library to arrive with more rule-books for him to catalouge, and wondered if, preposterous as that may seem, this could be it.
"huh-hullo!" Repaeted the roly-poly creature, who was accompanied by two other, just as preposterous creatures. One was a tiny, golden reptile, which Javert recognised from his Catalouges as a Gargoyle, a tradtional guardian of stories. The other was also a gargoyle, but larger, and green- there was something special about the gold kind, he mused to himself. he was not as impressed by this spectacle as he might have been, however. During his short time in the Dreaming, Javert had ceased to be amazed by the variety of creatures that populated it- (his house had been built by a pumpkin, par dieu!) but still, this gross intrusion offended him.
"What is your buisiness here?" He asked in his typical, incisive way; cudgel behind his back. If the fat man in the white suit (which had greasy palm marks on the jacket the size of the man's fat fingers) was taken aback by the inspector's tone, he made no sign of it, but puffed right up to him and extended a sweaty hand."
"Oh, y-you m-must buh-be the guh-guardian of th-the P-Pillar uh-of Severity." He grinned through his equally greasy, square, black beard. "I'm Abel, Guh-Guardian of the Huh-house of Suh-Secrets. I'm Suh-Sorry W-We Huh-Haven't Buh-Been Buh-Buh-Bye Suh-Sooner. We- Uh, I've-uh Buh-Been Buh-Buh-busy..." He waved a hand in the general direction he had come. Javert could dimly make out in the haze shillouettes of two houses- one, dark and forboding, the other half-built. "Puh-puh-packing."
Javert looked at the proffered hand as if at a roach, then repented at the last moment and shook hands with the man. Chubby, buttery fingers hid a strong grip, and the inspector was thuroughly jolted.
"I see." he said, once he had recovered somewhat, "Welcome, Monseiur Abel. I am Javert."
"N-nice to Muh-meet you." Abel, still out of breath, plopped down on the polished marble steps of the House. Javert remained standing. "Thu-that," Abel stammered, indicating the small, gold garogyle, "Is Guh-Goldie, and that buh-big guh-green fuh-fellow is Guh-Gregory. Huh-he buh-belongs to my Buh-buh-brother, Cuh-Cuh-Cain. Buh-But Cuh-Cain is Ah, Urm..." He stopped, cleared his throat, "Away at th-the muh-moment."
"Away?" Intoned Javert absently.
"yuh-yuh-yes." He cleared his throat again, "He ahhh-erm, luh-left. Th-that's whu-why I've-um Buh-been puh-packing. Luh-Lord Dru-Dream tuh-told me I huh-had to um, erm, guh-go and fuh-find him..." the late-inspector listened carefully or at least seemed to. His thoughts were rapid and full.
"Cain, did you say?" He mused, remembering something from his files.
"yuh-yuh-yuh..." Abel stammered, but Javert did not let him finish.
"Cain: First Murderer, Convicted, granted Divine Immunity. Currently wanted for Abandonment of Duties. And you, then..." He looked at his visitor with new, more penetrating eyes, "Are his younger brother, Abel."
"Yuh-yes." Abel managed to get out, for the late-inspector was lost in thought. "Oh!" Exclaimed Abel, "I ah-almost fuh-forgot, Guh-Goldie and Uh-I buh-baked yuh-you and yuh-your fuh-friend some Cuh-cuh-cookies. Yuh-you know, an ahh, erm, huh-House-Wuh-warming guh-gift." he held the tin he had been carrying out to Javert, who accepted it dumbly, with a nod.
"It occurs to me," remarked Javert finally, "that under Divine Injunctions; subheading: Biblical, Direct Ordininance- Cain, mark of- there is but one violation listed since its inception." Javert's piercing gaze went through Abel like a stilletto; the latter spluttered and stammered incoherently. Javert continued.
"But you have already been punished for this crime, although I fail to see the penalty in the granting of a wish, however loaded. I am responsible, so it would seem, of the maintaining of future order (such as it is) in the Dreaming, not the prosecution of past offnses. So you are safe from me, today." He smiled what was meant to be kindly at the babbling Abel, who thenceforth stopped babbling, and sat down next to him on the step. Gregory, ever curious, lumbered up to the late-inspector to sniff him; Goldie attempted to climb up on his knee. Javert ignored her, even when she further attempted to yank off his sideburns.
"Guh-guh-guh-guh-guh-guh-Irving!" Abel tried to snatch the little creature away, but Javert caught his sleeve as it fluttered past his face.
"Tell me," He asked the sleeve, his voice genuinely curious; free from anything stern or frightening, "What was it like?"
"Whu-whu-whu-whu-whu..." But Abel understood. "You mean," he replied quietly, "Why did I hit my brother?" Javert nodded, returning Abels arm to its rightful owner. Abel stared at the arm, then at the inspector's face. At this moment, it was a singular sight- unlined, curious, without concern for what was correct or proper, and harboring not far under the surface a sudden and profound respect for this disgusting creature! In him, Javert saw something of what had made him respect Valjean towards the end there- and which he had had the opportunity to witness more of in these days that they had been colleuges. They seldom spoke, but Javert watched always. He witnessed Valjean's eagerness to volunteer his services to any and all projects he might be needed for, and could detect no falseness in it. He saw that Valjean worked with the Janitor Mervyn Pumpkinhead constantly, and the two had become rather good friends. The inate goodness and quiet serenity of the late-Convict had come to impress itself forcefully upon the late-inspector, and he saw something similar in Abel, here.
Furthermore, he considered that Abel had done, to a lesser or greater extent he did not know, that thing which he had been unable to do. This stuttering slob had raised his hand to an untouchable, and even though Cain had- perhaps- deserved it, it was still awesome to him. Javert was also aware that, in the Dreaming, he was often compared to the absent First-born; called "Quiet Cain" by its denziens, and there were muttered comments about whether or not he would turn to drink or go on a killing spree. 'Cain splits, we get his statue,' He'd heard Merv Pumpkinhead mutter one day. He did not let these comments disturb him... but it did make him curious about the missing murderer.
Abel was not sure how to answer, and stared at the sleeve Javert had touched. He did not think Javert such a bad sort... although, with the exception of the sideburns in the place of a beard, Javert did resemble his brother... he almost asked the inspector to call him 'gully-guts' to see how it sounded. But Javert had that French accent, while Cain sounded like no one so much as Vincient Price... though it was danger to mention that to Cain himself. Slowly, Abel began to speak...
"I was lonely. My Buh-Brother wanted to take my Secret away." Javert noticed that, suddenly, Abel was not stuttering, "He can't do that. He can keep me from telling secrets by killing me, but he can't take them from me. I am their keeper, and they belong to me." A sudden angry flash across Abel's face startled Javert greatly, but it was gone as quickly as it had come, "I was so lonely because Irving- Goldie- was gone. That's a rather long story... but her memory- that was the Secret Cain tried to take away. He tried to murder my secret. And then I did it. And it felt..." He shook his head, unable to say 'good', but Javert understood, in his way. "...Then the... angel came, and gave me Goldie- Irving- again. But you knew that."
"Meep!" Said Goldie comfortingly, leaping into Abel's arms. Javert stared at his own hands.
"You... cannot be blamed." he said, more to himself that anything else. "You broke the law of God, but you are not a criminal. You are..." He looked at Abel and said slowly, "A Good man. You commited a grave wrong, but were perhaps justified in doing so. You are not ruined because of it." He stood, bowing to Abel and the Gargoyles, "Thank you for the cookies. I shall express your greetings to the Prefect." Valjean hated it, but when Javert had cause to speak to him, he addressed him thus. He turned to re-enter the house, but Abel stood up hurredly
"Wuh-Wait!" He caught Javert's arm, "Puh-Puh-Please, i wuh-would like to tuh-tell you a Suh-Secret." javert turned around to stare at Abel,
"Monseiur, is that Permitted?" Abel nodded.
"I cuh-Can Tell Suh-Secrets Wuh-Whenever I wuh-want, Only Cuh-Cain gets muh-mad," he grinned foolishly, "Buh-buht he's nuh-not here, and Buh-besides, thu-this suh-Secret Cuh-concerns yuh-you and yuh-your friend." Javert folded his arms to listen, and Abel cleared his throat.
"The next time that you go to the Library, ask Lucien for a book. It is called 'Les Misérables' and is written by a Frenchman called Victor Hugo. It is a work of fiction. Read this book, and you will learn who you are." Abel stopped and blustered. "I suh-say in advance, I-uh-um, Am Suh-Sorry." He muttered and stumbled, "Buh-buht you shu-should know, uh-and, it, um, is really buh-best if yuh-you do..." the hairs on the back of Javert's neck stood up, and he replied doubtfully,
"Should I? What would Monseiur Le Révé say about it?" Abel looked up at him directly,
"Ask him." He said, then turned and shuffled away through the mist.
Javert, considering that he ought to retrieve those law-books from the Librarian at the palace anyway, resolved to do just that.
To be continued...