The inn was a place that you knew, just by looking at it, that you didn't want to go enter. The whole place had an air of scandal around it, of thievery and wrong-doing. And I doubted the regular customers would be very welcoming to a man in uniform.

But, to my surprise and luck, the place was empty. Glasses of drink were sat upon dirty tables, half empty, and several chairs had clattered to the floor. Whomever had been here had left in a hurry.

That's when I heard it: the screaming and shattering of plates coming from what I assumed was the kitchen. It was incredibly daunting, choosing to open that door into whatever carnage I would find on the other side, but I went anyway.

A weasel of a man was hiding beneath a table in front of the door as a rather large woman shrieked bloody murder and hurled plates, cutlery - whatever she could get her hands on - at the man. I took this in quickly before having to duck behind the door as one of her throws went askew and a plate exploded against the wood where my head would have been.

"Get the hell out of my pub!" She screamed. Perhaps her throw wasn't as askew as first thought...

"Ma'am, I am Inspector Javert." I peered around the door.

"I don't care who you are, get out!" She threatened me by picking up a pot.

"I would also like to remind you," I said around the lump in my throat, "That assaulting a man of the law is illegal and if you did so I would have to arrest you."

That gave her pause, and the man beneath the table started to speak to me as he crawled out, "Thank the heavens sir, you have saved me. Perhaps you will stay for a drink as thank you? On the house, of course."

"The swill you serve has no right being referred to as a 'drink'." She huffed, face red and hands clenched into fists.

"Ignore her," He said, coming closer. I wished he wouldn't: he had a slimy quality about him and I wished to keep my distance. I saw him eyeing my pouch of coins and shifted so that they were less accessible to him.

"Are you two the Thénardiers?" I asked, sincerely hoping they were not.

My hopes were dashed when they both nodded.

I desperately needed them to comply with what I was going to say, so thought to diffuse the situation between them first. "What is going on here?"

"She scared off all of my customers!" Monsieur Thénardier whined. "And a rather wealthy man had just come in. I would have made a pretty penny off of him." I felt that that pretty penny would have been taken without the man's knowledge.

"He gave our child away!" She shrieked, going for another plate. "He let her get taken away."

I stood there, puzzled. Valjean was so intent on saving this child, Cosette, but surely she could not have been so badly mistreated when her guardians were left in this state in her absence.

"He gave me money, thinking he could buy the brat," He said to me. "And how was I supposed to know he took the wrong one?" He shouted at his wife, "You're the one who told him to go outside and get her. She's your daughter - you should have known Eponine was outside!"

I was even more puzzled now.

"Pardon?" I got out through the angry tension in the air. "Can someone please explain this all to me from the beginning?"

"Of course sir," Monsieur Thénardier gestured to the seating area I had just came through. "Perhaps a seat, a drink, as we speak?"

I complied to the seat, but firmly refused the drink. Madame Thénardier stood behind the bar as though she didn't trust herself to sit with us lest she strangle her husband. "A man came late last night," Monsieur Thénardier began. "A rich fellow, here on a mission from God or something. Said he was here to take that little whelp Cosette and raise her as his own. We, of course," He said with a sly look to his wife, "Refused. Then he opened his wallet and, well, we didn't exactly feel like refusing anymore. Besides, the child is more hassle than she's worth and her mother hasn't send us the money for her keep in a long time. We were needing rid of her anyway."

I now understood why Fantine wanted her daughter out of this place.

"Cosette was out getting water. We told him he could just go out and get her: it's not like she had any belongings to take with her. She never earned them, such a naughty child." He just shrugged at this. "So he left, leaving the money on the table. But," He looked to his wife, sure she would resume beating him when he mentioned this, "Cosette came back, never having seen this man, while our daughter Eponine, our own flesh and blood, has been missing since."

"He stole her!" Madame Thénardier shrieked, red faced again.

"Exactly," Monsieur Thénardier agreed.

I decided not to burden these distraught parents with the knowledge that their child was currently travelling with a convict who was on the run from, well, me. "Did he say where he planned to take Cosette?" I asked.

Madame Thénardier waved her hand like this was a useless point, "Something about every child deserves to see the sea." She poured herself something behind the bar and drank it down in one large gulp, wincing from the taste afterwards. "Can you bring her back? With Cosette gone, we need Eponine to pick up the slack around here. Lazy girl..." She trailed off.

I stood to leave, "You need not worry, I will do all that was in my power to bring your daughter back to you." How on earth do you take the wrong child? Valjean truly astounded me sometimes: I mean, they can talk right? Wouldn't he listen to the child saying she was not Cosette, but this Eponine?

"Leaving so soon sir?" Monsieur Thénardier said, still eyeing where I kept my coins.

"I need every minute I have to track down this man, so I must leave."

"Well, you can take the brat with you," Madame Thénardier announced. "Fat lot of good she does here anyway. Show this scoundrel that we at least hold up our end and give her to him. Then bring Eponine back."

I had no such intention of giving Valjean anything. "You want me to track this man down as fast as possible, while labouring me with a young girl?"

"It's either that, or we're casting her out on the streets." She warned, "Children are expensive things and we have no reason to keep her when her mother is unable to pay her way."

"Fantine is dead," I told her, aghast. How could these people be so heartless: this child had been with them for years yet she was nothing but a slave to them, seeing her as a way to get money rather than her being a person.

Neither of the Thénardiers reacted much to that. "Well," She said, "Then there's definitely no reason to keep her around."

I felt stuck between a rock and a hard place, but I knew in my gut that I could not leave the child to be cast out into certain death on the streets. "Fine," I said through clenched teeth, "I will take her with me. Where is she, I really need to get going."

They both just shrugged, "Probably around here somewhere," Monsieur Thénardier said. "I'm going to bed, we've been up all night stressing and it really isn't good for mental stability. So please just hurry up finding her and leave." He headed to the bar and had the same drink as his wife, and they started bickering.

I was supposed to find this kid? I doubted she had a room - where would people like that even let her sleep? I wandered into the kitchen, mainly to get away from those two, and a cupboard swung itself open. A dirty face popped up and peered at me.

"Mademoiselle Cosette, I presume?" I asked her.

"Are you the one that was supposed to get me out of here?" She asked.

I fought not to bite my lip. I couldn't leave her here, but what was I supposed to do with her? I couldn't hand her over to Valjean as they all thought. The most sensible option was to leave in an orphanage, but a life like that...she would surely be better off here than in one of those places.

But I needed to go, so I decided she would come with me now until I worked it all out later. "What are you doing in there?" I asked her, changing the subject.

"They came in here screaming hours ago," She said, extracting herself from the cupboard, "It sounded like whatever had happened was my fault, so I hid in here before they saw me."

She was as thin as the children I have seen living on the street, almost black with dirt and wearing a scrap of dress no cleaner. Her tangled hair was pulled back off her neck with a ripped piece of cloth. Her hands were dirty and looking rough with steadily developing callouses. The priest was right - all fortune seemed to have abandoned this girl.

"So am I supposed to come with you now?" She asked, head cocked.

"Yes," I said slowly. "I am here to take you to your new home."

"And where is that?"

Where was that? Where was I supposed to find Valjean: the man had a knack for blending into the mediocrity of normal life so thoroughly he could hide in plain sight for another decade if I wasn't careful. I only had one clue to go on.

"Have you ever seen the sea Cosette?"