The long weekend

On Monday, the news said the Merdeka Bank was looking after a famous collection of gold coins for a museum. The coins would stay in the bank's basement until Tuesday morning, and Monday was a public holiday. A long, quiet weekend.

Maya took everything to Inspector Rahman, a friend of her mother's. He listened with his arms crossed. "Dirty knees, a strange advert and a noise under the street," he said. "Those are inexplicable things, but they are not proof."

"Then come and see," Maya said. "If I am wrong, you lose one night of sleep. If I am right, you stop a robbery."

Rahman was not a reckless man. He never took risks without thinking first. But he agreed. "It's an elaborate plan, if it's real. We wait inside the bank on Friday night. You two stay with me, and you do exactly what I say."

At ten o'clock the lights went off. They sat in the dark behind boxes of coins. Everyone had to stay vigilant, watching and listening all the time. Arif felt apprehensive, and his hands were cold.

The silence was ominous, as if something bad was about to happen.

"Ken will not be alone," Maya whispered. "He must have an accomplice, someone helping him. My guess is Mr Lim."

After an hour, Arif whispered, "Maybe we're wrong. Sitting here is futile. It won't change anything."

"Shh," said Rahman. Arif felt indignant, angry that nobody would listen to him.

Then, at midnight, came the sound they had been waiting for: knock... knock... scrape. A stone in the floor moved. A sinister yellow light shone up through the gap, and a hand with a gold ring appeared.