Jim leaned against the marble pillar and stared out at the crowd passing by. The tourists laughed and chatted as they walked. They didn't see him; he was hidden in plain sight. Jim could just be another tourist if he wanted, but he didn't want that. He was here for a reason. There was a job to be done. Normally he didn't like to get his hands dirty, yet he wanted to be involved this time. Sherlock Holmes would have to fall from grace in a very public manner, but to fall he had to rise. Jim was just going to give him a little nudge in the right direction.
Drawing his coat collar around his neck, he joined the throng of people into the museum. Jim easily passed through the security, flashing a museum ID just in case. He knew they weren't going to stop him; he had nothing to hide. Still, he was going to take this job seriously.
Jim strolled over to the staff room and hung up his coat. Looking at the mirror, he fixed his hair and grinned. He was now a security guards, innocent to the future events. Jim took out his phone and began writing a text to one of his moles place in the museum. Begin, he typed before pressing 'send'. If everything went as planned, the cameras would quit working within five minutes. If things went awry... the mole wouldn't see the light of day again.
Five minutes passed, and Jim walked out of the room. He stepped into the lift and hit the button to the level he wanted to go. As the doors shut, he heard a shout. Instinctively, Jim stuck his foot between the sliding doors, forcing them open again. A pregnant woman scuttled in, giving him an effusive smile.
"Thank you," she said.
"It's no problem," Jim answered. "What level?"
"Oh, you've already pressed it," the woman said, pointing to the glowing button.
Their trip was short, and they exited the lift. Jim turned left and stepped towards a fire alarm. Glancing around him, he turned it on, and loud sirens filled the air.
"Everyone clear the building!" he yelled, now stepping against the visitors. Jim moved towards his destination, ignoring the shouts around him. Withing moments he was standing in front of the painting of the Reichenbach Falls. The room was now empty, save for him. Very carefully, Jim removed the painting from its frame. He left the room and quickly stepped down the stairs, whistling with euphoria. The job was almost complete.
Jim opened the staff room door and turned his attention to the computer on a desk. He pulled up The Science of Deduction, grabbed his coat and walked out. Soon he was outside again, the painting between his shirt and coat. Soon it would be safe in a nearby warehouse. When the police arrived at the museum, they would discover the missing art and find Sherlock's website. Sherlock would be contacted, and he would be fed a trail of clues set by the security guard mole. A text from the mole confirmed that evidence had been laid, and Jim smiled. Sherlock's rise to fame was about to begin.