Prologue

Monsieur l'Inspector, alias Javert, a.k.a. Snookums, scanned the report lazily. After reading it, he screwed it up and tossed it into the fireplace that he had been standing near. It was one of those disposable notices. He would have filed it otherwise. He turned his back to the fire, and regarded the young messenger in front of him with a eagle eye glare. The young man quailed slightly. "Um...good news... sir?"

"None of your business." Javert snapped.

"...do you want me to send a reply, sir?"

Javert thought for a while before answering. "No. I can handle this myself. You are dismissed."

The young man turned to scarper, but half turned back, his eyes wide with fear. He licked his lips nervously and stared at the fire to which Javert had turned his back too. "Sir..."

"What is it now?" Javert sighed exasperatedly.

"...Your coat's on fire, sir."

Chapter 1 : [DEL: Red :DEL] White and Black

Ignoring the laughter that followed him wherever he went, Javert strode through the streets of Paris, still in his charred greatcoat. Damned Washerwoman didn't have the time to wash his coat, be it government property or not. He glanced at the address he had written on another scrap of paper. Monsieur Marius, Apartment 3, Flat 5 on the Rue de l'Aville. Well, he had the right house. Javert pulled his coat further around himself, ignoring the charred pieces that crumbled off in his hand, and entered the house.

Climbing the stairs, Javert wondered why The Prefect had assigned him such a nonsensical and stupid case. The Case Of The Crimson Cravat... he shook his head and left it at that.

Finally, he reached apartment 5. He rapped on the door, and stood back. The door was opened by Enjolras. Javert frowned. "Oh.. wrong house, sorry..." he turned to go.

"Wait!" Enjolras called. "Are you here about..." he swallowed nervously, "...the cravat?" he enquired under his breath, in a whisper.

Javert scowled. "I'm afraid I am. Is Monsieur Marius in?"

Enjolras opened the door wider to let him in. "Yesyesyes. Come in quick, before someone sees."

"OH IT WAS HORRIFIC!" Marius sobbed into Enjolras' shoulder as he told his tale to Javert. Scattered liberally around the room were the other students, who were either lounging around or (in R's case,) drinking. "Last week, I put my only white cravat in the wash, and when I took it out today...oh the horror! IT WAS PIIIIIINK!"

Javert silenced the multiple laughs that were echoing in the room with his trademark piercing stare. "Pink, you say?"

"Pink! Pink! As in hot pink, as in neon spray paint pink, as in cherry pink, as in pearly pink, as in not blue, not green, not orange, not black, as in PINK!" Marius howled, sobbing.

Javert rolled his eyes. It was obvious what had happened. "Monsieur, do you own any red items of clothing?"

"Red? Red he says!" Marius said scornfully. "What kind of person do you take me for? I only ever wear white and black. Have you seen me in anything else? I'm not like Valjean y'know. I don't keep changing my clothes!"

Enjolras gave him a look.

"Oh, don't be so stupid!" Marius snapped. "Of course I change... just - just- " he broke off, not knowing how to put it. "Oh, just follow me."

He led Javert into his bedroom and opened the wardrobe. On the hanger were rows of black and white clothes. There wasn't a singular coloured item in there. Javert scribbled a few things onto a notepad. "I see. May I ask what you were doing on the fateful evening?" he inquired.

"Oh yes, I remember it clearly. Grantaire threw a mad party."

"Where?"

"Here. Seeing that his house consisted of a bed, a toilet and cupboards full of drink, he held it here in our place."

"Our?"

"Yep. Enjolras lives here too."

"I see." Javert scribbled a few more lines. "Well. May I talk to your associates?"

Marius looked blank. "Assosci- whats?"

"Your friends, out there, Monsieur."

"Ah. Of course. Go ahead."

Chapter 2 : The Interviews.

Note: The conversations between the Students and Javert below is as written by Javert in that little pad.

Interviewee 1

Name?: Joly

Address?: 66 Rue De Farine. I share an apartment with Lesgles.

What were you doing on the night of the party?: Um... partying?

Did you see the cravat at any time?: Oh yes. Twice.

What colour was it the first time?: White

And the second? A horrible crimson colour.

Where were you when you saw it last?: In the kitchen

Were you drunk?: Sort of. I can't drink lots because it brings on my strange heart palpitations.

Okay...: Oh, don't scorn it. It's a veeeery serious disease! I could DIE!

Have you any comments?: Um... I'm never going to drink Red bull again. Whatever they tell you, it doesn't give you wings. It just gives you a serious disease. I've got it. It's called Corriumblitus.

I can't say I've heard of it before...: No, I'm the only one who's got it, because of my unique blood type and hair follicle shape combination. Don't look at me like that! It's true I tell you!

Interviewee 2

Name?: Lesgle, Laigle, Laigle De Meaux or Bossuet. Take your pick.

Address?: 66 Rue De Farine.

What were you doing on the night of the party?: Ugh... I don't remember.

Did you see the cravat at any time?: Hazily.

What colour was it? : Green.

Where were you?: on the roof... for some absurd reason...

I don't suppose I need to even ask if you were drunk.: Duh. No.

Have you any comments? About the case?: Nope.

I'm sorry to hear about your friend.: Eh?

Jolly. : You mean Joly.

Yeah. He's dying. : Oh, no he isn't. If we believed him back in '23 when he said he had Imbithlicusia, he'd have died the next day. Then we realized he'd just reread his medicinal dictionary and made it all up. He's a hypochondriac.

Oh God. : Exactly.

Interviewee 3

Name?: Enjolras.

Address?: Here. Duh.

What were you doing on the night of the party?: shooting blackbirds with my carbine.

You know that is a punishable offence. : ... *silence* ...what is?

Carrying a firearm and shooting fauna. : Um... did I say my name was Enjolras? I meant... my name's Sid.

Okay... Sid...Were you even at the party?: Yes.

Did you see the cravat? : No.

Were you drunk?: *gasp* what type of revolutionary leader do you take me for?

Have you any comments? : Yes. Enjolras has left the country. And he wasn't shooting blackbirds. Nope, not he. And he actually only owns a cap gun. Those birds were falling out of the sky by their own accord.

Interviewee 4

Name?: Jean Prouvaire

Address? 34, Rue de Doicelle

What were you doing on the night of the party?: Everything and nothing.

Did you see The Cravat?: Yes and no.

Can you be more explicit?: Yes and no.

Can you give a one word answer? : No.

Are you always so self-contradicting?: No.

Thank god. So you didn't see the cravat?: Yes, I did!

What colour was it?: Whiteyish.

Where was it and where were you?: I was in the kitchen and so was the cravat.

Were you drunk?: Yep, it was such a wild night!

Have you any comments?: Yeah. Don't trust Grantaire.

Why?: I'm not saying, but it involves Enjolras' waistcoat thing.

You know that not giving evidence in court is an offence: Two things: 1: We're not in court, 2: I wouldn't care that much, to be honest.

Interviewee 5

Name?: Combeferre

Address?: room 3, flat 2, rue de Fratarnite.

What were doing on the night of the party?: Whatever ever Courfeyrac was doing.

Did you see the Cravat at any time?: No...yes.

Yes or no?: Sort of.

That doesn't help.: Well, I saw two. One was red, the other was white.

Was it possible that it was the same one?: Yeah, I think it might have been. Why did it change colour?

I don't know. But if it was illegal, I'll nick the first person I see.: Ah. *silence*[DEL: :DEL]

Don't tell anyone I said that, will you?[DEL: : What's it worth? :DEL] [DEL: :DEL]

Um... ten francs? [DEL: : 15. :DEL] [DEL: :DEL]

12 [DEL: : 15 :DEL] [DEL: :DEL]

13?[DEL: : 14 :DEL] [DEL: :DEL]

Deal.[DEL: : Okay. :DEL]

*more silence*[DEL: :DEL]

You can go now.[DEL: : Okay. :DEL]

(Self Note. The above conversation ruled out DID NOT happen. I am not a briber. Bribery is an offence, which is highly punishable. I DO NOT COMMIT OFFENCES. I AM JAVERT. I NEVER BRIBE.)

Interviewee 6

Name?: Grantaire

Address?: 2, Rue de Vin. I love that place.

What were you doing on the night of the party?: Don't remember.

Did you see the cravat?: Oh, my head! Sorry, I've still got a hangover from last night... I don't think I saw it...I don't remember.

Were you drunk?: *silence* Do you know who I am? Have you forgotten? GRANTAIRE. Drinker extraordinaire! Drunk? Oh pur-leeeze! That's the only thing I do remember!

Well. You're not much use to me then.: Oh don't talk like that! I get enough of that from Enjolras...*sniff*

Interviewee 7

Name?: Courfeyrac

Address?: room 2, flat 2, Rue de Fraternite.

What were you doing on the night of the party?: Eyein' up the gals.

Did you see the cravat?: Believe me, that night I saw a LOT of clothes...

But did you see THE cravat?: I told you, I saw lots of them!

Did you see a pink one?: A PINK CRAVAT??!! Hah hah hah hah hah! What kind of a jerk would wear a pink cravat?

But did you see it?: Come to think of it... yes.

Where were you?: In a bedroom. Heh heh heh...

I don't want to know.: You're right. You don't.

So you were drunk?: Hell yeah! Everyone was! Except for Enjolras.

The man with the carbine?: Yep that's him.

Was he shooting birds?: uh huh. Straight out of the window.

Hmmm. Isn't his name Sid?: Sid? I wish! Think of the jokes I could crack...!

Thank you.: No, thank you! Sid...heh heh heh...

Chapter 3 : 40° washes.

"Courfeyrac, you grass!" Enjolras snapped later that day once Javert had gone. "He wasn't to know my name!"

Courfeyrac looked innocently back. "I'm sorry, but how was I supposed to know that you changed your name to Sid, oh brave, valiant leader. Our Noble Leader... Monsieur Sid!" Enjolras glared around at the laughing students before sitting in a corner and staring at a wall.

"So what did Javert say?" Prouvaire asked Marius.

"I think he thought that it was all a bit ridiculous..." Marius mumbled.

Prouvaire glanced at the others. "No!"

"Get out of here!"

"Really? How dare he!"

"Yeah, would you believe it! I don't think he thought that it was serious. I don't think he took me seriously either," he sniffed, " but it is! Somebody did this on purpose! Someone's got it in for me, I'm telling you!"

"Well I'm sure Monsieur l'Inspector will get to the bottom of it." Feuilly said comfortingly in a sing-song voice, only just stopping himself from bursting out into laughter.

Meanwhile, Javert had been banging his head on his desk, cursing 'Students and their unfathomable stupidity'. He would have cursed the prefect too, for giving him such a stupid case, but he forbid himself to ever speak wrong of his superiors. He stared at the plastic bag containing the Crimson Cravat. He then pulled the book of interviews towards him and idly reread them, his chin resting on the table.

'Don't trust Grantaire,' Prouvaire had said. What was that supposed to mean? Maybe he should just arrest them all. Including the 'victim'. Is the victim Marius or The Cravat? Obviously The Cravat. Marius is just the Third-Party. 'It involves Enjolras's waistcoat'... wait a minute! The waistcoat was red... red and white makes pink...as in hot pink...as in Crimson Cravat pink! A red waistcoat and a white cravat in a 40° wash! Grantaire had put them in together while he was deliriously drunk! Enjolras must have been in it too... you don't lose the waistcoat you have on your body without noticing... and he was shooting innocent blackbirds with an illegal firearm! Javert leaped up with a very undignified 'Aha!', before picking up his dignity from where he left it, straightening out his coat and heading back to Marius and Enjolras's place. Which was he going to arrest? Prouvaire, for not saying what he was going to find out later? Grantaire, for doing the evil deed? He was going
to get Enjolras anyway. Ah, what the heck. Handcuffs on all three. Maybe he should nick a couple more just for good measure...

"You in the apartment listen to this! No one is coming to help you to fight. You're on your own... give up the criminals or die!" Javert boomed from outside Marius and Enjolras's door.

"Hmm..." Joly rubbed his chin. "I'm sure I've heard something like that before..."

Moved by some peculiar inner instinct, Enjolras dived to the door and leant heavily on it, trying to prevent anyone from opening it. "Damn their warning damn their li-- HEY!" He had been leaning against the door, thinking that it opened inwards. Unfortunately for him but fortunately for Javert, the door opened outwards and the door flew open. Enjolras landed at Javert's feet. Enjolras gulped and stared at the impeccably polished boots in front of his nose. He looked slowly up to Javert, smiling weakly.

Javert grinned evilly. "You're nicked, sonny."

Chapter 4 : Arrested

"Well, this is just great." Snapped Prouvaire as he squirmed in his seat, trying to release his hands from the handcuffs. "I don't even know why I'm arrested." He stood up and moved to the door. He started banging his head on it to try and attract attention to him. "Hey! I want to see my lawyers!"

Enjolras, who was also in the cell along with Grantaire, laughed. "And who would they be?"

"Bahorel and Bossuet."

"Oh, you can't be serious. They couldn't defend themselves out of a paper bag." Enjolras sneered. "It's Courfeyrac that bugs me. He'll be the one needing the lawyer when I'm finished with him."

"How was he supposed to know that you had changed your name?" Hiccoughed Grantaire from the corner, who was trying to drink a mini bottle of gin without using his hands. "He's not psychic, you know."

"Shut up, you." Enjolras snarled. "And while we're at it, how did you get that alcohol here?"

"I stole it from Marius's minibar and it's been in my pocket since the party." Grantaire knocked the bottle to the floor by accident. "Noooooo!" it smashed and splintered into a thousand pieces in a pool of bold smelling alcohol. "Damn. That was all I had..."

Chapter 5 : Eponine

Eponine sighed as she meandered through the well-known passages of the Parisian jail. What was this, the -- she counted the times off on her fingers -- seventh time she'd had to come and bail out her mum and dad from jail? Finally, she got to the short term cells. It was nothing out of the ordinary, until...

"Monsieur Prouvaire?" Eponine gasped as she recognized the figure skulking near a cell's door.

Jean Prouvaire looked up sharply as he heard someone -- distinctly feminine -- call his voice. He looked up not recoognizing the gaunt girl before him.

"Who are you?"

"I'm one of Marius' friends..." she moved into the light and Prouvaire recognized her... sort of.

"Oh! You! Um... Epomime?"

"No, Eponine!" She moved closer to the cell. "W-what are you doing in there?"

"Gah... it's all Marius' fault!" Prouvaire hmpfed, despite Eponine's aghast look. "He got all paranoid about some clothing mishap..." Prouvaire threw up his hands as best as he could, seeing that he was handcuffed an' all. "He got Javvie on the case and here I am. In fact, Enjolras and Grantaire's here too."

Eponine peered into the gloom and made out the dull figures. "Ah." She giggled a bit. "I must say, you're the last person I'd have thought to be in jail."

"What, goody-goody romantic Prouvaire?" Grantaire snickered from the darkness. Jehan threw him an evil look. "Sharrup, R. Lick up the drink on the floor, or something."

"Why didn't I think of that...?"

"Listen, Eponine. You gotta help us!" Jehan pleaded. "Whatever I'm in here for, I'll give you my word that I'm innocent!"

"Oh please, I don't believe your conscious is that clear!" Enjolras laughed.

"You'd be surprised... oh Grantaire! I didn't mean what I said!" Jehan nudged Grantaire who was bent over the puddle of alcohol, and sent him sprawling.

"You disgust me." Enjolras sniffed. "Please get us out, Eponine."

"What will you do for me in return?" Eponine asked coyly.

"Anything!" Jehan and Enjolras said simultaneously.

"Oh good..." she grinned.

Who dyed the cravat crimson? Will Javert ever find out? Will justice and lawfulness prevail? Will Courfeyrac escape from Enjolras? Will Grantaire find some more gin? Will Bahoral and Lesgle help Prouvaire and the others? What does Eponine want in return of helping Enjolras, Jehan and R? Will Marius ever stop being such a poofy-haired baby? Find out in our next thrilling installment of... The Case Of The Crimson Cravat!!!