Sherlock Sam and the Vanished Robot in Penang
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Everyone turned to look at me. “Not yet, but I definitely want to try it!” I said.
Auntie Vivian drove the van to George Town because she said it would be easier than trying to give Dad directions. Sure enough, the hawker centre was in an out-of-the-way place, and along with George Town’s sometimes confusing roads, Dad would have had a very hard time finding it.
The hawker centre didn’t have a name (at least none that we could find), but was unofficially known as the Road 7 Hawker Centre. It was both a hawker centre and a wet market. We found a table big enough for all of us, and Mom, Dad and Auntie Vivian went to order the food. They bought char kway teow, chee cheong fun, mee goreng, popiah, Hokkien mee, rojak, and pasembur, which turned out to be deep-fried vegetables covered in a sweet sauce. Plus, I found out that Penang Hokkien mee was actually our Singaporean prawn noodle soup!
Midway through the meal, a slender lady with short, dark hair and expensive-looking office clothes arrived at our table. She had a branded bag over her right shoulder, a designer watch on her right wrist, and a charm bracelet on her left wrist. The bracelet charms featured the twelve animals of the Chinese zodiac, but the snake charm was missing.
“Hello, Vivian, sorry for troubling your lunch,” she said. “I just need your signature on this insurance form as soon as possible.”
“Hwee Fong!” Auntie Vivian said. “You shouldn’t have troubled yourself by coming all the way here. We were going back to the museum when we were done. But now that you’re here, please join us!”
“Thank you,” Auntie Hwee Fong said, smiling as she sat down with us.
“She’s my accountant, and she’s in charge of making sure all the company’s paperwork is in proper order, including the insurance paperwork for that robot you just saw,” Auntie Vivian said, signing the form Auntie Hwee Fong had brought with her.
“She’ll actually be flying to Singapore at about the same time as all of you tomorrow. But on a different airline, I think.”
Auntie Hwee Fong nodded. “I have to make sure the company’s other paperwork is filed away properly when I get back.”
We finished our delicious lunch, and Auntie Vivian drove back to the museum. Auntie Hwee Fong came with us as she had taken a cab to the hawker centre.
“How much is the robot worth?” Nazhar asked. “It’s an antique, correct?”
“Yes, it is, and that’s why it’s worth a lot,” Auntie Hwee Fong said. “Vivian took a long time to find it, and had to pay a large amount to the collector who had it. But it’ll be worth it once she sells it to her client. He’s willing to pay ten times what she paid for it.”
“Yes,” Auntie Vivian said. “And once I complete the sale, I think I’ll take a break and spend some time at home. Would you like that, my sweet boy?”
“Yay!” Jimmy shouted. “We can go to the zoo!”
We got back to the museum, and noticed there were a lot of people outside, including the two men who had carried the robot into the museum.
“Ma’am, we’re so sorry,” one of the men said as we alighted from the van.
“What’s wrong?” Auntie Vivian asked.
“Your robot!” he said. “It’s gone!”
“What!?” Auntie Vivian said.
“We don’t know what happened,” he said. “It just vanished!”
“Oh no, oh no,” Auntie Vivian said. She immediately started digging in her handbag for her handphone.
“Have you called the police?” Mom asked.
“Yes, they’re already on their way, ma’am,” the other man replied.
An antique tin robot that had vanished into thin air? It seemed our holiday would have to wait!
Sherlock Sam and the Supper Club had a mystery to solve!
“Could-it-have-walked-out?” Watson asked. “Many-robots-have-independent-thought.”
“Not this robot,” Auntie Vivian said. “It’s not like you, Watson. It’s an antique and just hollow inside.” Auntie Vivian was very worried and kept checking her handphone for messages. I deduced that she had informed her buyer that the robot was missing and was waiting for his response. I would be going crazy with worry, too.
We were gathered outside the Penang Toy Museum next to Dad’s parked mini-van. The police had arrived and I was really irritated when they asked us to wait outside while they conducted their investigation. They wanted to question us at first, but Auntie Vivian told them we were having lunch together when the robot vanished.
“It doesn’t even have a power source,” I added. I had asked for the product details from Auntie Vivian and read up on the antique tin robot’s description. It was extremely rare and worth a lot of money.
“How could this happen?” Auntie Vivian said. “The security at the museum is extremely tight, isn’t it, Hwee Fong?”
“Yes, it is,” Auntie Hwee Fong replied. “I have no idea how anyone could get past it.”
“They even took us on a security check around the building before the robot came,” Auntie Vivian continued. “The museum has a very effective alarm system. I just don’t know how this could have happened.”
“Maybe someone beamed it away!” Jimmy said. “Like on Star Trek!”
Despite her worries, Auntie Vivian still smiled fondly at her son.
“That’s not possible, Jimmy,” I said. “The energy required for that kind of matter transportation would be phenomenal, and not likely to be available to anyone not working at the CERN Large Hadron Collider. On top of that, matter transportation is only theoretical at this stage. Current scientific breakthroughs only allow for the teleportation of small amounts of information through quantum entanglement.”
“What’s he talking about?” Auntie Vivian whispered to Wendy.
“We never know. Just smile and nod,” Wendy replied, as she smiled and nodded.
“I’m so sorry, Vivian,” Auntie Hwee Fong said. “Can you get another one? Is this particular robot very rare?”
Auntie Vivian nodded.
Just then, a female police officer stepped out from the front entrance. Auntie Vivian immediately walked towards her with Auntie Hwee Fong and my parents trailing after her.
“Shouldn’t we follow them, Sherlock?” Nazhar asked, turning to look at me.
“Why aren’t you yelling for permission to be allowed inside to investigate?” Eliza asked as she flicked her braids behind her shoulder.
“I will be allowed in. I don’t need to yell,” I replied. I was confident that I would be able to convince the Penang police that I would be useful in solving this case. “But first, I want to draw up a list of suspects.”
“Aliens!” Jimmy said.
“We already solved that case, Jimmy,” Wendy said. “Remember the Case of the Alien Encounter?”
“We need a list of all of Auntie Vivian’s employees,” Nazhar said. I knew I could always count on Nazhar to be the rational member of the Supper Club.
“Wait, remember we overheard the conversation about the art thieves at the airport?” Wendy said. “Maybe it’s them!”
“Hold on...Nazhar’s right. We need to use a systematic process of elimination and not randomly assume it’s aliens or art thieves,” I said. I decided to keep the thoughts of alien art thieves to myself.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the adults emerge from the building. The female police officer was taking notes in her dark blue notebook and had an intent, focused look. I decided she would be my best chance. I dug into my backpack and pulled out what I needed.
“C’mon, let’s introduce ourselves,” I said.
We quickly walked towards the adults and waited for them to finish up their conversation. Getting a bit impatient, I coughed. Loudly.
“Sam, I don’t think this is the right time,” Mom said. She looked worriedly at Auntie Vivian who seemed close to tears. Jimmy started to tear up when he saw his mom’s expression.
“I can do this, Mom,” I said. “You have to trust me!”
Mom looked at me for a while longer befo
re turning to Dad, who smiled slightly and nodded. Mom shrugged and nodded as well.
“Sergeant Huda, this is my son, Sam,” Mom said, “Sherlock Sam. I think he might be able to help you.”
The officer glanced up from her notebook in surprise.
“Hello, Sergeant Huda, my name is Sherlock Sam and I am a consulting detective,” I said as I handed her my name card. It had my contact details where my potential clients could get in touch with me.
Sergeant Huda looked curiously at my name card, then peered at me. “But you’re just a little boy,” she finally said.
“He’s Singapore’s Greatest Kid—” Jimmy started to say.
“Not-yet-Jimmy,” Watson said.
Jimmy crossed his arms and sulked. “Mom, Sherlock is a really great detective and you should really let him help! We’ve solved millions of cases together!”
“Well, not millions, but I—” I said, looking at the Supper Club, “we have a good track record of solved cases. If you need references, please call Officer Siva in Singapore.”
Auntie Vivian looked unsure.
Dad gave Sergeant Huda the necessary contact details and she pulled out her handphone to make the call.
“Hello? Officer Siva?” Sergeant Huda said. “Yes, I’m sorry to trouble you. Yes, that was an overseas ring tone. You see, my name is Huda and I am a police officer with the Penang police force. I have a young man in front of me who goes by the name of Sherlock Sam...”
“If you say that Sherlock can help, Jimmy, I believe you,” Auntie Vivian finally said, hugging her son close.
“I see. Well, that is certainly reassuring,” Sergeant Huda said into the handphone. “And you say that he’s been integral in solving these cases?” She glanced at me with her eyebrows raised.
“If I were Officer Siva, I would pretend not to know you,” Eliza said with a wicked grin.
Sergeant Huda ended the call. “Well, Officer Siva seems to think highly of you, Sherlock. Of all of you, actually. Though someone needs to explain what a Supper Club is,” she said. “I will need to get approval from my supervisors, but I don’t think it’ll be a problem.”
“We’ll be around to supervise the children, if necessary,” Dad added, stepping forward. “Though my son and his friends haven’t needed our help yet.”
Sergeant Huda nodded and walked away to make the call to her supervisor.
“See!” I said to Eliza. “No yelling involved.”
She smirked.
“I-wonder-if-Officer-Siva-told-her-how-much-food-you-eat,” Watson said.
“I’ve gotten preliminary approval,” Sergeant Huda said, walking back. “For tonight, I can allow you in the crime scene, at least.”
Jimmy gave a loud whoop and jumped into the air, shocking Sergeant Huda and Auntie Hwee Fong. The rest of us were already used to Jimmy’s loud bursts of enthusiasm.
“Here’s my contact information in case you need to get in touch with me,” Sergeant Huda said, handing me her name card.
As we walked into the Penang Toy Museum, the two police officers looked at us suspiciously. I gave them my I-am-a-good-student-and-therefore-trustworthy face in return. Sergeant Huda hurried over to explain. I overheard one of the officers say, “But he’s so short and chubby!” I wasn’t the only one to overhear this as both Wendy and Eliza started to snicker. Even Nazhar had to hide his smile.
Ignoring everyone, I said, “Spread out and look for relevant clues—”
“Like this?” Eliza said holding up a small scrap of paper right up in front of my nose.
“That was fast,” I said. “How do you know it’s a clue?”
“I don’t, but it stuck to my shoe when I walked in, and as I pulled it off, I saw handwriting. Then I thought, a mysterious piece of paper with handwriting—it just so obviously has to be a clue.” Eliza’s expression remained deadpan.
Glaring at her, I snatched the scrap of paper away. Sometimes, I thought Eliza was actually trying to help, and other times, I wasn’t so sure. Taking a closer look, I realised that she had in fact stepped on something important.
“Looks like we found our first clue!” I said.
“What is it?” Nazhar asked. Everyone had gathered around me.
“Number 55, Stone Breaking Street, George Town,” I read aloud. “It’s an address.”
“It must be where the thief went!” Jimmy said.
“Or somebody totally unrelated to all of this dropped it,” Eliza said. “It’s not just robot thieves that litter.”
I glared at her again. “Yes, that’s possible, but it’s the only clue we have.”
“Let-us-ask-a-police-officer-where-this-address-is,” Watson said.
Wendy and Nazhar went over to a nearby police officer to ask about the address. They came back shrugging their shoulders. “He says he just transferred from Kelantan and doesn’t know the area very well yet,” Wendy said.
“Okay, let’s just get Dad to drive us around then,” I said, not wanting to slow down our momentum.
“Or-we-could-ask-another-police-officer,” Watson said.
“No need,” I replied. “It’s a written address. How hard can it be?”
I told Dad our plan, and Mom agreed to stay with Auntie Vivian.
“Will you be going with them, Jimmy?” Auntie Vivian asked, bending down to clean some dirt off Jimmy’s face. He looked at us, then looked at his mom.
“I have to, Mom,” Jimmy said. “They need me. They wouldn’t be able to figure anything out without me.”
Eliza snorted, but Auntie Vivian just smiled and patted his head. “Then you go help them find that robot!” She stood and saluted. Jimmy saluted back before giving her one last hug and running over to us.
“I’m ready!” he said, striking a kung fu pose.
Dad opened the minivan and we all climbed in. “Where are we going?” he asked.
“To George Town!” I said.
Dad started up the car and got ready to pull out of the parking lot, but suddenly turned off the engine.
“Which direction is that again?” he asked.
“Mom!” Wendy shouted out of the open window. “We need your navigating skills!”
She jogged over. “What’s the matter?”
“Which way is George Town?” Dad asked.
I’m not sure how she did it, but Mom looked as if she was both surprised, yet completely unsurprised by this situation. She pointed at the big traffic sign on the main road that said George Town was eight kilometres to the east. Dad grinned and started the car back up.
Wendy pulled out her map of Penang, which happened to have an inset for George Town. She began looking for Stone Breaking Street.
“Did you guys know George Town is a UNESCO Cultural Heritage Site, along with Malacca?” Nazhar asked.
“What does that mean?” Eliza asked.
“It means they’re recognized as being universally important cultural places because of their unique cultural histories,” Nazhar said. “For example, George Town has a mix of British, Chinese and Malay influences in its architecture and townscape that cannot be found anywhere else in East and Southeast Asia.”
“Does Singapore have any you-nest-cocoa places?” Jimmy asked. “We have British, Chinese and Malay stuff, too, like fish and chips, yusheng and ikan bakar.”
“You-nes-co,” Wendy corrected, “not you-nest-cocoa.”
“While you’re right about Singapore being multicultural as well, we don’t have any heritage sites yet,” Nazhar answered. “But the Botanic Gardens has been nominated to possibly become one in the future.”
This was all very interesting, but it was unfortunately not getting us any closer to Stone Breaking Street. “Any luck with the map, Wendy?” I asked.
“Maybe my map doesn’t cover all of George Town, because I can’t find any mention of Stone Breaking Street,” Wendy said.
“Perhaps it refers to a quarry?” I asked. “They break stones in a quarry.”
“There are no quarries in Geo
rge Town, though,” Wendy said.
“I-knew-we-should-have-asked-another-police-officer,” Watson said.
“It’s fine,” I said. “We’ll just ask the people walking around. Look, there’s one—”
“Oooh!” Wendy shouted. “It’s some of the wire art I read about!”
We all looked out of the window and saw five people sculpted in wire on five different pillars. There was a man holding a basket of clothes on his head, a woman in a cheongsam, a little boy, an old lady with a short pole over her shoulder, and a colonial-era British man, complete with pith helmet. The British man was saying, “Obviously, this is less than five feet...” while the explanatory note above the lady in the cheongsam said “The ‘five foot way’ of Wan Hai Hotel is said to be the narrowest in Penang.”
We were in George Town proper now, and while everyone else was looking at the art, I was looking at the street signs. The street sign said Lorong Stewart, and Stewart Lane in smaller letters underneath. There were also some Chinese characters that I assumed was a Chinese translation.
Further down, Wendy spotted another wire art piece with a bunch of birds flying down and the words, “Ey! At this hour still play mahjong?” Underneath that, it said “Mahjong (the game of sparrows)– A favourite pastime for the elderly.”
“Oh, no!” Wendy said. “That one has missing pieces!” Two sparrows were missing from the art.
“It must be those art thieves we’ve heard about,” Nazhar said. “You know, Sherlock, it’s possible that these guys did steal the robot.”
I turned to Nazhar while Dad kept driving. “Sure, it’s possible, but it’s a very different crime,” I said. “Why would they suddenly steal a vintage toy robot after stealing nothing but wire art?”
“Money?” Dad offered. “Auntie Vivian said it was worth a lot.”
I had to admit that was actually quite a good reason. “Yeah, that motivates many criminals, but how would they even have known about it?” I shook my head. “No, the likeliest suspects are people who work in and around the museum, all those who would have known about the robot being displayed ahead of time. It makes the most sense.”