Lost on the train

Two days before the Mid-Autumn Festival, Jun found a paper bag on the seat next to him on the LRT. Inside was a box of mooncakes from the Golden Moon Bakery and a small card: For Mum.

He looked around. Nobody was watching. At Masjid Jamek station, he got off and took the bag to his friend Priya, who lived above her parents' shop.

"Someone will be sad without their mooncakes," he said.

Priya was reading the news on her phone. "Listen to this. A famous jade ring has been stolen from a room at the Grand Lotus Hotel. The police have arrested a cleaner, Encik Hamid. He says he is innocent, but the police think he is lying."

Jun opened the mooncake box. Four mooncakes. One of them looked strange: the top was broken and pressed back together, as if someone had opened it.

"That's suspicious," said Priya. "Mooncakes are made carefully. Why would one be broken like that?"

She cut it open with a knife. Inside, next to the sweet egg yolk, was a green stone ring.

Jun laughed. "It can't be genuine. It must be plastic."

Priya held it up to the light. It was cold, heavy and very green. "It's real," she said quietly.

Jun was reluctant to touch it. He did not want his fingerprints on it. "So someone used a mooncake to conceal a stolen ring?"

"It's a bizarre idea," said Priya, "strange enough to work. Nobody searches a box of mooncakes."

"But the ring vanished from the hotel this morning. How did it get on the LRT?"

Priya smiled. She liked a puzzle. "We can't deduce the answer from one mooncake. But we know where the box came from." She turned it over. On the bottom was a stamp: Golden Moon Bakery, Jalan Petaling.