Mice.

That's all they were to Magnussen. 

New Scotland Yard and all of their little people that worked under them, under the ideals of justice and other silly things that had a tendency to be more of a morally grey area. Occasionally, they would prove a convenience to him, being subtle in his manipulation and at other times, they would be against him and every once in a while, someone would have to take the fall.  

Right now, Magnussen had his eye on one particular someone - she went by the name of Sally Donovan and there was certainly a lot to hold her accountable for. The supposed death of the deerstalker was one of bigger indiscretions and one that had held a lot of interest for him. 

Arriving at Scotland Yard now, Charles Augustus Magnussen stood with his hands in his pockets, looking around with those wonderfully dead blue eyes as they scurried about, working on the most nonsensical of things.

"Is there a Sally Donovan about?" He asked calmly as he approached the help desk, smile playing on his lips.