Sherlock fan - Wrong

After that day, Jasmine's little best friend disappeared as if the world had evaporated.Jasmine was a little surprised that what happened that day had caused such a big psychological shadow on him, and felt a little guilty while regretting it.

Of course, she didn't have much time to think about it, since she had been honorably sent off by Sherlock to deal with Mycroft.Sherlock competed with the mysterious bomber and had so much fun that he had no time to care about McCoff's national affairs.In view of Mycroft's repeated messages to urge her, Sherlock had to send Jasmine to the Diogenes Club.

The Diogenes Club is definitely a place where weirdos gather. In the club, members can't talk and communicate, but can only concentrate on the newspapers and documents at hand. If they have to talk, they have to go to the drawing room upstairs.

It was in this living room that McCoff met Jasmine.

"Jasmine, I'm glad you can come."

"Good afternoon, Mycroft, uh... your brother sent me to gather some information about the stolen anti-missile program."

"yes"

"Yes, he is investigating, he is... fully investigating." Although the investigation has nothing to do with the case you mentioned.

Jasmine saw McCoff looking at her with a smirk all over her face, so she had no choice but to get to the point quickly.She knew that she had no ability to deceive Mycroft, and she had no intention of lying to him, but Sherlock's behavior was too abnormal this time, and Jasmine always felt that she would not excuse him, and felt very sorry. Besides, Brother McCoff probably felt very hurt now. . "I want to ask, what else can you tell me about the dead"

"The man's name is Arthur Cadogan West, 27 years old, unmarried, insignificant in the Bruce-Partington scheme, just a Class A security check. No terrorist links or inclinations found, last seen was His fiancée. He left her abruptly in the fog at 07:30 that night. There was no quarrel between them and she did not know why. The next day a railroad worker named Mason His body was found outside Battersea Station on the London Underground, more precisely at [-]:[-] a.m. on Tuesday morning, lying on the left side of the eastbound tracks at the far end of the line, close to the station , where the railroad came out of the tunnel. The head was shattered and badly injured—probably from a fall from the train. The body could only have been thrown onto the railroad. He had to pass the platform when he was lifted from the street, and there were always inspectors standing there. That seemed absolutely certain. From where he got on, however, it was impossible to say."

"Ticket, don't you know it by looking at the ticket?"

"No, he doesn't have a ticket on him, nor on the carriage, and he doesn't show signs of being stolen."

Mycroft produced another list of his belongings: "Here is a list of his belongings which may interest you. There are two pounds in the purse. There is also a check for the Woolwich branch of the Capital and County Bank. According to these Something to identify him. And two tickets to a special at the Woolwich Theatre, dated that evening. And a small bundle of technical papers."

Jasmine took it with satisfaction, and asked again: "But, how did such a trivial little security guard come into contact with the memory stick?"

"This is exactly the problem we have to solve. The plans are kept in an elaborate safe in a classified office adjoining the arsenal, with security doors and windows. Under no circumstances are the plans to be removed from the office. Yet We found these plans in the pocket of a dead clerk in the middle of London. Officially, it's just horrific."

"What, found it in his pocket?"

"There are ten copies of the plan, which are stored in ten memory sticks, but there are only nine copies in West's body, and the other one is missing. If it weren't for this, we wouldn't suspect such a small employee."

"That's right. Who's in charge of the secret files?"

"The officer in charge of the secret papers is Sir James Walter, a well-known expert in the government. His honor and title occupy two rows in the directory. He is an old hand in his duties, a gentleman, and a man of the highest class. A welcome guest of society. Besides, his patriotism is unquestionable. Of the two men who hold the keys to the safe, he holds one of them. Also, during Monday's working hours, the papers must be In the office. Sir James set off for London about three o'clock, took the key with him, and was at Admiral Sinclair's in Barclay Square the whole evening of the accident."

"Is this confirmed?"

"Well. The other one who had the key was Mr. Sidney Johnson. He was a clerk and draftsman, forty years old, married, and had five children. He was usually taciturn. But on the whole he behaved in business. Excellent. He doesn't interact much with his colleagues, but works hard. According to his own account, he was at home all night after work on Monday, with the keys on his watch chain, but only his wife can confirm."

"Okay, so what's the reputation of West?"

"He has served ten years and has done a good job. He has always been quick-tempered and impulsive, but honest and forthright. We have no problem with him. In the office he is second only to Sidney Johnson. His work makes He gets personal access to the programs every day. There's no one else in charge of the programs."

"Is there any information on the check in his pocket?"

"Not a bounty for his treason."

"What about his latest financial balance? Are there any bank records?"

"No debts, no sign of large rewards."

Jasmine tilted her head and straightened her thoughts: "Thank you, Mycroft, I think that's all we need to know."

Mycroft looked at Jasmine playfully, and Jasmine guessed that he was probably laughing at her poor imagination or her poor little brain.But he finally nodded in satisfaction and said, "Tell Sherlock that my patience is limited."

Jasmine had no choice but to agree, repeatedly saying yes.