A/N: Thank you, again, to all of my reviewers and readers! Some of you had guesses as to the identity of the intruder in Chapter 4…I hope you are quite surprised! Remember, updates will become less and less frequent over the next week or so, but I have not deserted this fanfiction!
Disclaimer: I do not own Les Miserables or any of the characters presented in this fanfiction in any way, shape, or form.
"Well, um, sir," the dandy began.
"Hey, I know ya!" Gavroche crowed. He stood from his chair, a broad grin across his dirty face. "Ya live jus' down the 'all, don't ya?"
"Uh, yes, I do," the young man replied. He removed his hat to scratch at his head. "I was told that I would find an inspector here." He turned to Javert, his hat still held in his pale hands. "Would that be you, sir?"
"Yes. Speak of the matter," Javert replied. He, too, stood to face the young man. "What is your name?"
"Marius Pontmercy, sir," the now-identified dandy said. "It is a very secret matter I speak of."
"Then speak, if you will. I shall not tell a soul," Javert said with a sigh. Oh, how these dandies vexed him, with their better-than-thou attitudes and smug faces. At least this one had not added a particle to his name; that species of dandy bothered him the most. Like criminals, dandies could be sorted into neatly-organized categories.
There were the high-and-mighty kind, with noses in the air and more money than truly necessary. They usually had perfect, impeccable clothing and faultless skin. This was the type with the particle attached to their name. They behaved as if they had a God-given right to treat anyone out of their class as worse than scum.
Then, there was the slightly-less-smug brand of dandy. They tended to drop the particle from their name, so that Monsieur de Gautier became Monsieur Gautier in the newest fashion. Like with their names, this kind of dandy loved to keep up on the most modern fashions. They seemed to have a never-dwindling salary, yet did not work a day in their life. Because of this, it was seemingly effortless for them to keep up on the latest and greatest fashions.
The last class was of that peculiar stage between dandy and commoner. They had fine clothes, or at least once did. They had to work to earn a living. They typically lived in the little flats scattered about Paris. Sometimes, this group could, if young enough, be classified with the students.
The young man, Marius Pontmercy, seemed to be of this last kind of dandy. He even had that distinct air of student about him. His hands were at his sides; he held his hat in one of them. His overcoat was starting to bear signs of oldness, the sleeves just starting to fray slightly. His trousers were a bit too short, and his shoes had scuffs on the heels. He wore no gloves, at least at the moment.
"It's, uh, extremely urgent," Marius went on.
"Then, speak fast," Javert said. Yes, definetly a student. Marius had few social graces and an even smaller sense of propriety.
"There's this man, see. I don't know his name or anything, but I know what he looks like. He's got bright white hair, but he doesn't seem too terribly old. And he has a daughter." Marius blushed. Javert made no movement, waiting for the young man to get on with his story. "I live right next door to this other flat. I was sitting in my flat when I heard voices coming from the other one. I heard this…plot, you see. Apparently, there is a man by the name of Jondrette. He seems to be the mastermind behind all of this. He is going to have assistance, by some prowlers and the like. I think one of them was called Panchaud. Anyway, Jondrette's daughters (he has two of them) will be on the lookout for interrupters. What concerns me the most is that there is absolutely no way that I can warn the man they're after; I don't know his name or anything!"
"Anything else?" Javert asked.
"Oh, uh, yes. It's all going to be at six tonight. At the Gorbeau tenement, number 50-52; it's on the boulevard de l'Hôpital."
"Really?" Javert turned slightly to Gavroche. The boy nodded, in response to Javert's unasked question. The two were most definetly one and the same. So, therefore, the Thénardiers equaled the Jondrettes! "So, that would mean it's the room at the end of the hall, then?"
"Yes," Marius replied. "Have you been there before?"
"Once or twice. But I know more than enough about it." Javert nodded, sparing a glance down to Gavroche. The boy grinned up at him with a wink. Oh, Javert could remember the delight of a secret when he was as young as Gavroche. It made you feel important, like you and only you could solve the mystery. "How much do you know of Patron-Minette? It sounds like they might be involved."
"I heard that name mentioned!" Marius exclaimed.
"Very good, then. That makes things infinitely easier," Javert murmured. He would be able to recognize them on the spot, now, especially with Gavroche's updated descriptions. "And I think I might know Jondrette's true identity."
"He's not really Jondrette?" Marius asked in surprise.
"I do not think so."