AN: I'm changing the viewing perception of this story, so I'm going over all the chapters and updating them; otherwise everything's basically the same. Of course the standard disclaimer applies, I'm not making any monies or saying I own Les Mis in any way shape or form. Unless its a typo, I own those.
Javert could see Madeline stood at his window; the mayor was not watching the police officer - as the officer was Javert himself - but was clearly keeping an eye open for something.
The chief Inspector did not have long to wait, soon enough there was a trundle of carriages. His eyebrow rose as Roma designed carriages rolled into the town. Traditionally, these people only arrived once every four years, this group was a year early. Meaning that the field they had parked in the year before the inspector's arrival had been ploughed and as such, they could not use it.
The eldest man, a good twenty years or more older than Madeline himself, moved easily to the mayor's office. Javert followed as discreetly as he could. Outside the office there was nowhere to hide, so was forced to idly talk with the mayor's office keeper; who did not seem surprised by the officers unscheduled arrival.
"Inspector." His greeting was as civil as always.
"Why would the mayor allow them entrance? Even in Paris they aren't allowed to enter the city limits."
"Not all gypsies are thieves, Inspector. The stables get an extra income from their horses; and the carpenter from fixing their carriages." Javert thought for a moment; it seemed a fair trade.
"How do they make the money to pay for those services?"
"I don't know, and I don't care."
"The mayor should."
"He probably does; he just doesn't tell you."
"Turning a blind eye to a crime is just as bad as a crime." Neither the office keeper nor the inspector noticed the door opening.
"Always so black and white, inspector." Javert immediately stood to attention.
"At ease Inspector; I just wanted to introduce you to the Kopa of this clan. His is the only one I trust inside the limits. You, my dear inspector, will treat his people as you would any other citizen." The inspector glared at the mayor. This was seconds before both his and the Kopa's eyes widened at the sight of each other. "You know each other?" Before the mayor could get an answer from the inspector, the Kopa spoke.
"I prefer Javert, Kopa."
"Very well, Javert." The Kopa bowed his head at the inspector which surprised both himself and the mayor. "I see you have done well for yourself. Inspector, indeed."
"Thank you; but how do you know me?"
"My daughter was sent to the Bagne for telling fortunes. She died in that hell."
"My mother birthed me in that hell."
"I know. You are the son of my daughter, Javert." There was silence between the three of us, but Javert could easily see the mayor's eyes jumping from him to the Kopa and back.
"I can lend you my office if needs be?" Javert shook his head at the mayor.
"No sir, anything that needs to said will be said in my office." The Inspector looked at the Kopa. "If that is alright with you, Kopa?"
"I've never seen an inspector's office; that should be a first."
"I should be hopeful that none of your clan has been in a cell?"
"Oh, we've all been in cells Javert. Just not all of us have been in the Bagne." Javert glared at the man he now knew to be his grandfather. He silently gestured for the Kopa to leave the mayor's office and in doing so to follow him.
The old gypsy followed the inspector with surprising ease, taking in sights of the town that were normally hidden from him and his people. The station was a modest building in between the town hall and one of several public houses off the main square. Javert's office was in the eaves of the building, unlike most, there was a large window at one end. He knew that those who had bothered to observe him with this man, had noticed their near identical skin shades and that some features were equally impossible to distinguish from each other. The other police officers probably already had their suspicions, and some may have felt this some conformation.