I'm trying a different type of story here; a mystery! This is an I.G only production, with help from E.G of course. PLEASE VOTE ON MY POLL!!!! I don't own anything. This is AU and takes place in early spring.

Summery- There is a murder in the Café. Javert and his plucky/slow-witted accomplice scramble to outwit the murderer before he strikes again! Can you figure out 'who done it?' before the authoress?

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Mystery at the Musain

It was a dark and stormy night when Javert was called to the scene at a dim café were an apparent suicide occurred. The inspector sighed irritably at being called to an open/shut case; he suspected there would be zero action and a mountain of paperwork. As soon as Javert opened the door to the backroom he was over come with the stench of cheap whiskey and whine. In the center of the room, strung up and bleeding from a hidden wound; was Grantaire.

The inspector calmly and slowly eyed the corpse from the polished shoes on the victim's feet to his hair that was combed and slicked back. "Who found the body?" Javert asked a group of young men standing calmly in the back of the room. One of the younger looking lads timidly raised his hand and averted his eyes from the body and inadvertently Javert.

"Did you touch anything?" the inspector asked, taking out a small notebook.

"No. And what does it matter if I did?" The boy asked with only the slightest indignation. Javert rolled his eyes, "What's your name?"

"Baron Marius Pontmercy."

"Was the body like this when you came in?"

"Sir I wouldn't know."

"And why is that?" The baron paused a minute to blush. "Speak up, lad! I haven't got all day!"
"I fainted upon entering the room, alright!?" Marius admitted with reluctance, "I'd never seen a dead body before." He added quietly sneaking a glance at the body before staring back at his shoes.

"I see… are you usually so weak hearted?"

"No more so then you!"

"I didn't faint." Javert smirked and scribbled in his notebook before turning his attention to the others in the room.

"How many of you knew the victim?" The four men (Marius included) raised their hands. The inspector inwardly heaved a sigh, "Let's start with you," he pointed in somewhat random fashion, "Step forward; state your name and your relation to the victim." Javert commanded drawing a line to separate Marius' statement and the next suspect. "My name is Jean Prouvaire, Grantaire was my friend." Prouvaire's lower lip began to tremble, "I can't believe he's gone!"

"Hmm-mmmm." Javert wrote beneath the name 'J. Prouvaire, friend of victim. Cry baby.' Once he finished, he nodded Jehan to step back and pointed at the next in line. "And you?" (For the record, if Hugo didn't give the characters a first name it is not meant to be.)

"Combeferre. Grantaire was… more of a friend of a friend I suppose, I didn't know him extremely well."

"But you knew him pretty well?"

"I just knew him. Courfeyrac knew him better then any of us." The doctor added helpfully. Javert wrote; 'Combeferre; Acquaintance of the victim. May be of of actual use to this case.' "Next." The inspector said dully only to be met with silence. Javert glanced up with annoyance at the tall blonde man who looked scornfully at the corpse. "That means you."

"I don't talk to police." The young man replied rebelliously with a hint of discomfort.

"That's fine. I'll just arrest you for the murder of this young gentlemen here." Javert used his walking stick to point at the dangling corpse. Combeferre leaned over and whispered to the young man, "You're going to die for Grantaire?!" The blonde man squeezed his eyes shut and swung his head to the other side as if trying to keep the thought at bay.

"My name is Gerard Depardieu." The blonde said calmly.

"You're lying." Javert said with out looking up from his scribbling which read '-blank name- damn good liar.' The blonde frowned at being caught and sighed in defeat.

"My name is Enjolras."

"You're still lying."

"I am not! It's the truth." He protested with an angry flare.

"I know. I wanted to make sure you knew." Javert looked up smugly at the young man, "Your name…?"

"Enjolras. And I hated Grantaire." There was a warning groan coming from Combeferre. "Shouldn't have said that. Should not have said that." The doctor strained. The inspector looked back at the lad and raised an eyebrow, "Is that so? Why?"

"He just convicted himself!" Prouvaire cried as he sobbed into his hands. Javert felt a throbbing headache coming on while rain pounded the roof and thunder crashed as lightening illuminated the backroom. "Everyone quiet down!" he roared with authority.

The room fell silent.

"Now, why exactly did you hate him?" Javert said as he added in his notebook 'lousy attitude.'

"He was a drunk, jobless, lazy, moral-less, piece of scum." The blonde said disdainfully. Javert glanced at the unusually well dressed now deceased Grantaire and frowned.

"He's a drunken lout?"

"Don't ask me why he's well dressed; I couldn't tell you." Enjolras shook his head at the thought.

Javert gave quick look at the dead man and noted what was just said. "Did he seem like the kind of man who would commit suicide?"

"No! Grantaire may have been a drunk, jobless, lazy, moral-less, piece of scum; but he was not a coward!" Jehan defended vehemently. Enjolras mumbled something under his breath. The inspector made note of this in his notebook, the memo read; 'Maybe not a suicide, suspected foul play. Blonde Enjolras is main suspect thus far.' And he wrote the time and date. "Anything else I should know? Besides--" Lightening flashed and the oil lamps were extinguished by some mysterious force leaving the room and it's occupants in pitch blackness.

"Stay where you are!" Javert bellowed as he searched his pockets for a match. The rain pounded ever harder making the thunder sound like a stampede; for a split second a flash of lightening illuminated the room, as two dull thuds were not heard over the rain and thunder. The inspector was successful in finding a match and struck it on the wall. He held it out to discover a very important piece of evidence was missing; The Body!