A Farewell to Baker Street by Mark Mower

expanding city. I know this because some of those close to me had a hand in taking the trophy and were duped by the Delaneys, an act that will have continuing repercussions.
    Detective Sergeant Clive Delamare had for some time been a close ally of mine and I was happy to pay him handsomely for the titbits of information he was able to pass to me about particular felons or police officers that I might have an interest in, as my associates have begun to extend their operations outside of the capital . However, the one crucial fact he chose not to share with me was his familial connection to the Delaneys - something, I imagine, you were also unaware of.
    In the summer of last year, I discussed with him our plan to steal the football trophy as a gesture to the Birmingham underworld. He realised of course that the robbery would jeopardise the Delaney position. So he took it upon himself to tell his oldest son what we had in mind, imagining that his offspring might then take steps to ensure that the family were seen to be above suspicion and completely blameless of any involvement in the theft. But his son is a chancer, without his father’s caution and guile. He saw an opportunity to outfox my colleagues. He underestimated me and the lengths I will now go to, to get even with his kind.
    When my associates returned to London, I knew that Clive Delamare had betrayed me. I made contact with him and told him what was to be done . He was to broker a deal with the Delaneys whereby the trophy would be returned to me and the family would, from that point on, operate under my control. Any divergence from this would result in the wholesale assassination of their leaders. It was then that he confessed to being Clive Delaney, one of three men who effectively controlled the Delaney Gang. He explained that his son had acted without authorisation and would be punished for what he had done. He went on to say that he was in no position to broker the deal I had insisted upon as the family would never agree to it. I am not an unreasonable man, Inspector Walcott. I said that I understood his difficulties and proffered a final solution - to surrender the trophy, kill his son and return to Ireland. It seems that he has been unsuccessful in adhering to my request and his son has, yet again, taken matters into his own hands.
    At this point, you may be wondering why I should insist on telling you any of this. Well, it is just that I believe we can help each other. You see, the son has not only refused to bend to my will, but has also now instigated his own coup d’état and seized control of all the family’s affairs. As such, he is my chief rival in the midlands and I want him removed from that position. Something you can do in securing his conviction for murder.
    You still have some work to do, however, and I suggest you invite Mr Sherlock Holmes - another of my adversaries, but a much more likeable one - to assist you in carrying out your task. Call it honour among thieves, or some sort of felonious chivalric code, but I will not let it be said that it was me that told you specifically who killed Clive Delaney. That said, you can take the following facts as gospel:
    1. Clive Delaney, better known as Sergeant Delamare, was the intended target - unbeknown to his two accomplices, the guilty man fully intended to kill him.
    2. The dead man was shot by his own biological son - he had no other children older or younger than twenty-nine years of age.
    3. Any eye witnesses you have to the killing can be relied upon - they will have witnessed the death of your sergeant at the hands of his son.
    4. The gun used in the attack belonged to Frank Delaney.
    5. But the killer was not Frank Delaney.
    I trust that this information will speed your endeavours.
    Yours very sincerely,
    A concerned citizen
    I looked up in astonishment when I had finished reading the note. “But this is nonsensical, Holmes. Everything points to Frank Delaney, and yet we are