Who Killed Sherlock Holmes? Read Free Page B

specialist firearms officers standing by in unmarked vans on several side streets. She herself was SC&O19, number two to Sergeant Tom Stennet, who was Bronze leader on this
operation, in charge of the third tier of the organizational structure, and also waiting in one of those vans. The analyst, whose name was Lisa Ross, had seemed, at the initial briefing, to be
narked at the standard structure of an op like this to the point of being all eye-rolly. Typical bloody specialist, looking down on your everyday lid, simply because she was from this weird unit of
just four people that everyone in the canteen talked about but about which nobody really knew anything.
    Ross was here to record the timeline of what went down as it happened, her laptop open and an i2 Analyst’s Notebook application ready on it, displaying a colourful diagram of the organized
crime network they were aiming to bring down today, with ‘Operation Dante’ in red at the top. Staverton had at least hoped that the analyst’s narkiness wouldn’t extend to
Ross attempting to give her orders. The analyst technically outranked the PC, but she’d never met a copper who’d accept that situation. As it turned out, the analyst had been silent and
distant to the point of rudeness, not just focused on her task but staring into space in the long stretches between. Something that was normally there in a person seemed, in her, to have been
switched off. She displayed none of the anticipation Staverton had felt around officers on the verge of a major score. At least, as had every other analyst Staverton had met, she hadn’t
objected to Staverton using her first name rather than calling her ‘ma’am’. Let her try and see how far that got her. Staverton got the feeling that party girl here just
didn’t react to much anymore. God, what sort of trauma had made her like that? The analyst’s DI, James Quill, who was Silver leader for this operation, and about whom Staverton had
heard happier stories, had also seemed pretty out of it at the briefing, curt and angry at any question. Only Lofthouse, the detective superintendent, Gold leader for this op, had seemed
straightforward and professional.
    Now, Ross looked up from her phone, which had just got an alert for an incoming text, as she was typing. ‘That was a text message from second undercover, saying, “Siege.” So
the bank robbery team are sticking with Ballard’s original plan and haven’t been lured away from it by the promise of easy money.’
    ‘I’ll relay that to the front-of-bank team.’ There was a van of specialist firearms officers parked directly across from the bank in case the stormtroopers had opted to ignore
their chief’s plan, open a few tasty safe deposit boxes and scarper before, they thought, the police had got there. To take them in a prepared bottling at the front of the bank had been
judged by Lofthouse to be less dangerous than letting the full plan play out, so they’d been offered this temptation by the second undercover.
    ‘Noted. I’m now texting back that second undercover should work on Fitzherbert.’ Staverton remembered from the briefing that Lacey Fitzherbert was the junior manager
who’d been turned to the dark side through family pressure. She’d passed on to Ballard’s people the list of which safe deposit boxes belonged to which customers. Her testimony, it
was said, would help in making sure the charges against the patron stuck, though Staverton was still puzzled that the weird little squad feared they might not. Ballard was here personally,
wasn’t he, actually supervising a drilling team? He was being that stupid. What sort of conjuring trick did they think he was going to pull? At the briefing, they’d been told how this
operation had come about. One of the undercovers, a detective sergeant, had his previous criminal life maintained by SC&O10, with contact details such as phone numbers and email addresses with
someone always briefed to