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  “It was the best deal you were going to get, yes,” Chicken Wing said. “Now I have to take you in too, for obstruction of justice.”

  “Listen to you, pretending you’re a real police officer,” the Tiger said. “You’re not taking me anywhere.”

  “This can’t be happening!” Chili-One shouted.

  “I would very much appreciate it if you stopped watching Korean dramas while on monitor duty, Chili-One,” Chicken Wing said, trying to keep the anger out of his voice. “It’s very distracting.”

  “I’m not talking about the drama, though it is unfortunate that Eun Tak has to give back her very pretty bag,” Chili-One said.

  “Focus, Chili-One!” Chicken Wing shouted, startling the Tiger.

  “Samuel Tan Cher Lock! Is this how your father and I raised you?” Chili-One said.

  “Sorry, Mom,” Chicken Wing mumbled. “But please focus on the matter at hand. What did you need to tell me?”

  “That’s better,” she said. “The Mastermind has escaped from Changi Asylum.”

  “What?!” Chicken Wing, Omelette, and Egg all shouted in unison.

  The Tiger was very confused. “What’s going on?” she asked.

  “Tell the Tiger to turn on her TV,” Chili-One said.

  “Turn on your TV,” Chicken Wing said. “Now.”

  “The remote’s in the desk,” the Tiger replied. Chicken Wing opened some drawers until he found it. He tossed it at the Tiger. She caught it and turned on her TV.

  “Hellooooooooooo, Lion City! Guess what? I’m back!” A blond boy in a purple bowler hat was on screen, laughing.

  “I enjoyed the vacation you and Chicken Wing got me at the asylum, but alas, it’s time to come back to work. I only have so much annual leave, after all. I don’t want to use it up all at once.”

  “Chili-One, trace that broadcast,” Chicken Wing said.

  “Already on it,” she said.

  “I have a surprise for everyone, to thank you for the holiday,” the Mastermind said. “It’s my greatest doomsday device ever, but I think it’s best if I show it to Chicken Wing first.”

  “That’s not good,” the Tiger said. “What are you going to do?”

  Chicken Wing turned and walked out onto the balcony.

  “What I have to do,” he said, jumping off the railing into the night sky.

  THE END

  Things had gone exactly as James had planned.

  He was back in London, enrolled in an exclusive boarding school once again. But more importantly, it was one with overly indulgent teachers and easily manipulated minders.

  His parents, who had initially watched him like hawks when he first returned to London, had been successfully lulled into a false sense of security by his pretence of contrition and good behaviour. He knew all those theatre and drama classes he had taken would come in useful one day.

  It was actually much easier to fool his parents than he had expected. At first, he had kept his guard up, expecting a trap. Perhaps his parents were still in cahoots with that pesky Singaporean kid detective, the dastardly Sherlock Sam, and his minions, Watson and the Supper Club. But as time went by, he realised that it wasn’t the case. In fact, it seemed like his parents wanted nothing more than to put their entire time in Singapore behind them.

  He had fooled everyone! MUAHAHAHAHAHA.

  “Are you feeling all right, Master Mok?” a voice next to him enquired.

  James realised that he had been evillaughing out loud again.

  He coughed and straightened.

  “Minion One,” he said.

  The boy who had asked the question turned and looked around. Then he looked back at James and pointed at his own chest. “Me? Minion what? I’m Mark.”

  “No. You were Minion One, but now you are Minion Five. And you are dismissed. Send in Minion Two,” James said, flicking his hand towards the door.

  The boy, who was dressed in the same boarding school uniform as James, looked confused, but did as he was instructed. He glanced over at the two other boys in the classroom who stood at rigid attention behind the seated James—Minion Three and Minion Four. They did their best to avert their eyes. Finding no sympathy from his fellow minions, he had no choice but to make his way to the exit and leave, in disgrace, as Minion Five.

  It was hard to get good help these days, James thought as he brushed a piece of lint off his perfectly tailored, dark blue uniform jacket. Some days, he sorely missed the unquestioning loyalty of his robotic butler. His access to technology had been severely restricted by his parents—but he was working on it. They had already relented and allowed him his smart phone back.

  Through the door, James could hear the ex-Minion One (now-Minion Five) trying to explain to the current Minion Two what had transpired. Minion Two seemed confused. Abruptly, there was silence. Hesitantly, the door slid open a fraction and a head poked out from behind it. It was Minion Two. He tried not to let the apprehension show in his eyes as he walked over, while tugging his collar, to where James was sitting.

  “Yes, Master James,” still-Minion Two croaked. “You wanted to see me?”

  “Indeed,” James responded, waving his hand at the seat next to him, indicating that the boy should sit. “You are now Minion One.” It sounded like a royal decree.

  There was an audible gulp from the recently promoted young man in question.

  James narrowed his eyes. “Do not fail me.” A significant pause. “Minion One.”

  The newly-appointed Minion One quickly nodded, wiping away a bead of sweat that was sliding down the side of his temple despite the autumn chill. He tugged on his collar once again.

  The classroom was empty. School was over for the day. It was the perfect time for James to plan his next daring deed.

  Since he had been back, he had successfully engineered a series of crimes through a variety of proxies, none of whom even knew of his existence. To ensure that he did not make the same mistake as he had back in Singapore, he did his research thoroughly every time and made sure that none of the proxies that he used had any ties to genius kid detectives. The chance of that happening again was slim, but a fiendish mastermind could never be too careful. He had also been careful not to pick crimes that would make international news— yet. He did not want the attention—yet. But that was going to change very soon.

  “Did you get the information I asked for?” James questioned the newly minted Minion One.

  “Yes. The fish and chips shop was right where you had said it would be. And the batter was just as excellent as you had described,” Minion One replied, grinning.

  James sighed audibly. His eyebrow twitched.

  The three Minions in the room with him froze. Minion Three gestured frantically at the new Minion One while Minion Four closed his eyes and held his breath, trying to make himself as unnoticeable as possible.

  “And—and… Erm… I also obtained the information you needed on the Lewis Chessmen currently on display at the British Museum,” Minion One hurried to add, taking a tablet out of his backpack and handing it to James.

  “Did anyone see you?” James asked, his voice emotionless as he accepted the gadget.

  “No. I asked my little sister to buy the fish and chips, and the data chip was wrapped in the paper that came with it. It was a little oily, but I cleaned it as best I could—”

  James made a sound of disinterest and Minion One immediately fell silent. James was pleased. It had taken him at least three days to teach the ex-Minion One to fall silent on cue. It bode well for new Minion One’s future.

  James looked through the data on the tablet and could not help the smile that spread across his handsome face.

  Yes, everything was going exactly as planned.

  ∗ ∗ ∗

  “What do you mean they’ve been stolen?” James said, looking up from the floor plans of the British Museum that he had been studying. It was quite late in the evening and the school was almost empty.

  Minion One had run into the vacant
classroom with Minions Three, Four and Five hot on his heels. He slammed the newspaper he had been carrying down on the desk that James was seated at. That had earned him a deadly glare from his master.

  “Look at—at, the front page, Ma—Master James,” Minion One stuttered, pointed at the words at topmost portion of the newspaper.

  “LEWIS CHESSMEN STOLEN FROM BRITISH MUSEUM! SCOTLAND YARD STUMPED!” the headline read.

  “No!” James shouted, slamming the desk with both fists. The floor plans that he had been looking at fell to the ground in a crumple. “How could this have happened?!”

  He glared at the trembling minions in front of him. They turned to look at each other, then back at James. Simultaneously, they shrugged and immediately backed away.

  “The security codes are changed every four days. And the guards are on a different patrol schedule every day. Unless the thief was able to hack into the security system and obtain that information, there should have been no way for him to pull this off,” James muttered to himself.

  “But you did,” Minion Three whispered.

  James immediately swung towards him, surprised.

  “Is that what you sound like?” James said, raising his eyebrow. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you speak.”

  Minion Three fell silent once again.

  “And yes, I did obtain that information, but no one else should have been able to. And definitely not in the time frame that allowed him to beat me to the heist.”

  James was furious. The theft of the Lewis Chessmen pieces was to be his big return to fiendishness. It was his announcement to the world, and specifically to Sherlock Sam and his irksome band of followers, that he, James Mok, the most fiendish of all masterminds, had returned! And he was looking forward to once again meeting his Singaporean nemesis for a detective rematch so he could prove, once and for all, that he was the bigger genius! Brainwise, that is—he could never eat as many chicken wings as Samuel Tan Cher Lock could.

  Then something caught his eye. The article right below the news about the theft had ink marks on it—a lot of ink marks. At first, it looked like smudges from poor printing quality, but something didn’t look quite right. James leant in closer and stared, muttering silently to himself. The Minions looked at each other and slowly moved in closer to their leader.

  Dots and dashes. Dots and more dashes.

  The words of the article had been deliberately circled with dots and crossed out with dashes!

  “What’s the matter, Master James?” Minion One asked, wringing his hands nervously. It was never good when Master James fell silent. It meant that he was thinking, and a thinking Master James was a dangerous Master James.

  “Morse code…” James whispered. “This is written Morse code.”

  “What?” Minion Four asked, taking step forward to look at the newspaper as well.

  James stood up and grabbed on to Minion One’s jacket. He snarled, “Where did you get this newspaper from?”

  Minion One squawked, “From…from the newsstand in front of the train station near our school, Master James!”

  “You take the train?” Minion Three asked, looking aghast.

  “Of course not!” Minion One gasped, outraged. “I had my driver pick up a copy on the way to school.”

  The gears in James’ brain were turning rapidly.

  “So he knows where I go to school,” James muttered. “And the newspaper seller must have been one of his proxies because this paper was meant for me, and me alone.”

  “Who? What? Who knows where you go to school, Master James?” Minion One asked.

  “This message was meant especially for me,” he said, gesturing at the series of dots and dashes on the newspaper. “It’s a list of all the ‘adventures’ I’ve been on since returning to London. In chronological order, no less.”

  “I don’t understand what is happening,” Minion Four said, frowning.

  “Of course you don’t,” Minion Three replied. “That’s why you’re only Minion Four. Minion Five isn’t even allowed in the room.”

  “And he has also issued a challenge,” James continued, almost as if to himself.

  For the first time since the Minions had known him, James Mok looked worried.

  “Who? What challenge?” Minion One asked.

  “I have seven days to unmask him,” James replied, “or he’ll tell my parents exactly what I’ve been up to since I’ve been back in London.”

  “I still don’t understand what is happening,” Minion Four whispered to Minion Three who shushed him.

  “This cannot be happening,” James said, clenching his fists. “I cannot be foiled now. Not when I’m this close…”

  He continued to mutter to himself, pacing around in agitation. The three Minions fretted close (but not too close) by.

  Suddenly, James came to a complete stop. The look on his face was resigned, pained even. He sighed heavily.

  “I guess I don’t have a choice,” he said, straightening his jacket. “Give me my mobile phone.”

  Minion One scrambled to do as asked.

  James took a deep breath and dialled.

  The Minions waited with bated breath.

  The call connected.

  “Good afternoon, Sherlock Sam,” James said, his accent crisp, his voice measured. Then he paused. “Oh. Erm. Oh. Hello, Auntie. No, I am sorry, I did not realise what time it was. I am so sorry. I was looking for Samuel—oh, he is asleep? You are all asleep? Yes, I do know about time difference. I am so sorry—”

  CAPTAIN WATSON

  AND THE ALIEN ATTACK AT ONAY-359

  We love science fiction in pretty much all its forms, but our first introduction to this expansive genre was Star Trek, and this story is a short love letter to it. Adan used to watch the original Trek with his mom when he was growing up, and Felicia’s favourite show when she was a teenager was Star Trek: The Next Generation. Watson was the perfect lead for this kind of story, as he is a Spock/Data-type of character, but we really wanted to make him the captain of his ship, something both Spock and Data get to do later in their careers.

  In case you’re wondering, “Onay” is the Romanisation of the Tamil word for “wolf”, and all Trekkies know the importance of Wolf-359 in Trek history.

  ELIZA

  AND THE HIDDEN CRYPT IN THE FOWL TOMB

  Eliza is our toughest character in the main series, so we wanted to make sure we gave her a story in which her courage could shine. We immediately thought she would make a great Indiana Jones/Lara Croft-type character, hunting for lost relics and hidden tombs. Nazhar became her sidekick because he’s of course the history buff, and an explorer can’t adventure without a good knowledge of history.

  The title of the story only came to us after we decided what horrifying creatures they would find in the tomb.

  JIMMY THE JOLLY

  AND THE DARK SORCERER IN KATONGLIA

  This was our video game story, full of ridiculous monsters and improbable heroes. Jimmy was the perfect fit as his expression hardly ever changes, something he shares with many early video game heroes like Mario, Mega Man and of course Link. The Legend of Zelda series is what we borrowed most heavily from for this particular story, especially in how Chief Kim Lian gives Jimmy his wooden sword.

  The Dark Sorcerer’s defeat comes primarily from a mistake Adan made while writing the very first book. If you’ve ever heard our school talks, you’ll know what that mistake is, and how we used it in this story.

  AGENT M AND AGENT D

  GET SMART IN THE AIR-CONDITIONED NATION

  We love watching spy movies and shows, from James Bond to Mission: Impossible to the Bourne series. But probably our favourite of the genre is also the funniest one—the Get Smart television series from the ’60s. It starred Agent 86, the bumbling and hilarious Maxwell Smart, and Agent 99, the incredibly competent female agent, and that’s clearly Mom and Dad in disguise.

  Our favourite part of this story is putting Mom and Dad in evening wear for a s
takeout in a hawker centre.

  NAZHAR

  AND THE ACCIDENTAL NINJA IN EDO

  We are big fans of time travel stories, as they offer many different kinds of storytelling opportunities. Just a quick look at a few wellknown franchises shows us just how versatile it is: Back to the Future, Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure and, of course, Doctor Who. We mostly borrowed from Doctor Who for this story, and we decided we were going to set it in Edo-period Japan. We knew it had to star Nazhar, and we knew exactly what mistake he’d end up making in the story.

  The versions of Nazhar, Wendy and Watson here probably most closely resemble their prime universe counterparts than any other story (with the exception of the James Mok story, of course).

  SHERIFF MORAN

  AND THE MOKNIFICENT SEVEN IN TUMBLEWEED

  Adan has always loved westerns. It’s a quintessentially American genre (though Italian filmmakers have been responsible for some of the best “American” westerns of all time), but can be replicated anywhere in the world, so long as there is a frontier to set it in. In fact, Australia, China, Japan and Korea have created some amazing westerns that have nothing to do with America, but are just as good as, if not better than, many American westerns. For this story, we wanted the polite Moran to have to deal with a threat in his town, and then have a big showdown at the end.

  If you read Mayor Eliza’s speech carefully, you’ll figure out what some of our very favourite westerns are.

  WEN DI

  AND THE ART OF COLOUR-FU IN THE MIDDLE KINGDOM

  Felicia grew up with a steady diet of martial arts shows, her favourite being Zu Mountain Warriors and Legend of the Condor Heroes. Adan, like most Americans, discovered this genre thanks to Bruce Lee’s Enter the Dragon and Jet Li’s Once Upon a Time in China. Now, they both watch a lot of Hong Kong martial arts movies starring the likes of Jackie Chan, Sammo Hung and Donnie Yen. This story, however, is more inspired by Felicia’s early love of Zu Mountain Warriors and Adan’s current love of the amazing Taiwanese wuxia puppet show Legend of the Sacred Stone, and their more fantastical take on martial arts.