Chapter 8: The Plan: I
Danglars watched as Edmond and Mercedes walked away together, their figures disappearing around the corner of the old fortress. The sight made his stomach churn with jealousy.
He turned back to see Fernand slumped in his chair, looking like he’d been hit by a truck, while Caderousse was already three sheets to the wind, mumbling some drinking song under his breath.
"Well, my friend," Danglars said to Fernand with a smirk, "looks like this wedding isn’t making everyone happy."
"It’s killing me," Fernand muttered, his voice breaking.
"So you’re in love with Mercédès that bad, huh?"
"I’m obsessed with her!"
"For how long?"
"Forever. Since the day I met her."
"And you’re just sitting here feeling sorry for yourself instead of doing something about it? That’s not very manly of you."
Fernand looked up, his eyes desperate. "What the hell am I supposed to do?"
"How should I know? It’s not my problem. I’m not the one in love with the girl. But like they say, seek and you shall find."
"I already found something."
"What?"
"I’d stab that bastard, but Mercédès told me if anything happened to her boyfriend, she’d kill herself."
Danglars waved dismissively. "Women always spout nonsense like that. They never actually do it."
"You don’t know Mercédès. When she makes a threat, she means it."
"Idiot," Danglars muttered under his breath. "Who gives a damn if she kills herself or not? The point is making sure Dantes doesn’t get that promotion."
Fernand’s voice turned deadly serious. "Before I’d let Mercédès die, I’d kill myself."
"Now that’s what I call love!" Caderousse slurred, raising his glass. "Real love, or I don’t know what love is!"
"Look," said Danglars, leaning forward, "you seem like a decent guy, and hell, I’d like to help you out, but-"
"Yeah, but how?" Caderousse interrupted.
Danglars shot him an annoyed look. "Shut up, you drunk bastard. Finish your bottle and pass out already. This conversation requires actual brain cells."
"Me, drunk?" Caderousse laughed. "That’s rich! I could down four more bottles this size. They’re like shot glasses to me. Hey, bartender! More wine!" He banged his glass on the table.
Fernand leaned forward eagerly. "You were saying something about helping me?"
"What was I... oh right, this drunk asshole made me lose my train of thought."
"Drunk, sure, whatever," Caderousse said with a shrug. "Too bad for people who can’t handle their liquor. It’s because they’ve got guilty consciences, afraid the alcohol will make them spill their secrets." He started singing an old French drinking song about how all evil people drink water.
"You said you wanted to help me," Fernand pressed.
"Right. Look, to help you, all we need is to make sure Dantès doesn’t marry your girl. And honestly? That’s pretty easy to arrange without having to kill the guy."
"Only death can separate them," Fernand said grimly.
"You’re talking like a moron," Caderousse chimed in. "Danglars here is smart as hell. He’ll tell you you’re wrong. Go on, Danglars, prove it. I’m betting on you. Show him Dantès doesn’t need to die, that would be a real shame. Dantès is a good guy. I like Dantès. Here’s to Dantès!" He raised his glass again.
Fernand started to get up, frustrated, but Danglars grabbed his arm. "Let him ramble. Even drunk off his ass, he’s not wrong. Look, separation works just as well as death. If prison walls stood between Edmond and Mercédès, they’d be just as separated as if he were six feet under."
"Yeah, but people get out of prison," Caderousse said, suddenly focused despite his drunkenness. "And when someone named Edmond Dantès gets out, he’s going to want revenge."
"So what?" Fernand muttered.
"And why the hell," Caderousse continued, "would they throw Dantès in prison anyway? The guy hasn’t robbed anyone, hasn’t killed anyone."
"Shut your mouth!" Danglars snapped.
"I won’t shut up! I want to know why they’d arrest Dantès. I like the guy! To Dantès!" He downed another glass.
Danglars watched the tailor getting more and more wasted, then turned back to Fernand. "See? No need to kill him."
"Right, if like you said, you have a way to get Dantès arrested. Do you actually have a way?"
"It can be found, with the right search. But why should I get involved? It’s not my problem."
"I don’t know why you’re involved," Fernand said, grabbing Danglars’ arm, "but I know this much, you’ve got some personal beef with Dantes. People who hate can always spot it in others."
"Me? A grudge against Dantès? Hell no! I just saw you were miserable and felt bad for you, that’s all. But if you think I’m in this for myself, then forget it. Handle your own shit." Danglars stood up like he was about to leave.
"No, wait!" Fernand grabbed him. "Stay! I don’t give a damn whether you hate him or not. I hate him, I’ll admit it openly. You find a way, I’ll do it, as long as it doesn’t involve killing him. Mercédès swore she’d kill herself if anything happened to Dantès."
Caderousse lifted his head from where it had been resting on the table. Looking at Fernand with bloodshot eyes, he slurred, "Kill Dantès? Who’s talking about killing Dantès? I won’t let anyone hurt him! He’s my friend. This morning he offered to share his money with me, just like I shared mine with him. Nobody’s killing Dantès, not on my watch!"
"Who said anything about killing him, you drunk idiot?" Danglars replied smoothly. "We’re just joking around. Here, drink to his health." He refilled Caderousse’s glass. "And stop interfering."
"Yeah, yeah, to Dantès’ health!" Caderousse emptied his glass. "Here’s to his health! Cheers!"
"But the method," Fernand pressed. "What’s the method?"