CHAPTER 5 – TARAWIH OPERATION: CHASING SHADOWS
That night, the atmosphere at Masjid Jamek Kampung Melayu was lively, with worshippers gathered in preparation for the Tarawih prayers. Aiman, Badrul, Johan, and Din sat together in the back row, but their minds were still preoccupied with the events of the day—the bakery worker from Sinar Bakery who had fled after his secret was exposed.
"I feel like this case is more than just stolen kuih," Aiman whispered, adjusting his kopiah.
"We’ve only scratched the surface of this mystery. There must be someone more cunning pulling the strings," Johan interjected, recalling the confession of the man in the Puma cap that afternoon.
Outside the mosque, Faizal, who had been eager to join their investigation since earlier, was absorbed in his Nokia 8250 flip phone.
"Definitely spyware," Din muttered, half-joking.
As the Tarawih prayers began, Aiman tried to focus and clear his mind. However, by the fourth rakaat, his eyes caught sight of a suspicious figure—a broad-shouldered man dressed in a brown Baju Melayu, complete with a Johor songket sampin. He seemed devoted to his prayers but kept glancing towards the mosque entrance, as if waiting for someone.
I've seen him before... but where?
After completing eight rakaats, Aiman quickly grabbed Johan and Badrul by the arms, leading them to a corner of the mosque before whispering as if he had just realised something.
"Hey, I think I know that guy… I saw him at the bazaar last night. Did you notice the man in the brown Baju Melayu?" he whispered.
Johan glanced towards the front rows. "The one sitting right in front?"
Aiman nodded slowly. "Yes. I’m sure I saw him at the stall selling the stolen kuih."
Badrul's eyes widened. "Seriously? If that’s the case, then this is definitely connected!"
Din, who had been eavesdropping on their conversation, chimed in, "So, what’s the plan? Confront him in the mosque?"
"Don’t be ridiculous. We’ll wait for him to leave."
They returned to their spots, pretending to recite zikir while discreetly observing the mysterious man’s every move.
After the Witir prayer, the congregation began to disperse. Aiman and his friends moved outside, casually chatting near the mosque’s large pillar by the shoe rack. From there, they kept a close watch on the man in brown, who was walking towards the mosque gate while speaking on his phone.
"Yes… I checked earlier. The stock is all good, ready for collection tomorrow night..."
Aiman managed to catch bits of the conversation. Stock? Collection tomorrow night?
The man then headed towards a blue Proton Wira parked at the end of the mosque road.
"We need to follow him," Johan whispered.
"Sure. Just one problem—do you have a car?" Din asked, half-mocking.
Johan grinned and pulled out his BMX bicycle from beside the gate. "I have this. Two people can ride with me, and two can follow on foot."
Without hesitation, Aiman and Badrul hopped onto Johan’s bike, while Din and Faizal followed on foot. Slowly, they tailed the blue Proton Wira, which drove towards a narrow alley behind a hardware shop.
"Oi, slow down. Our feet aren’t bicycle tyres," Din grumbled, half-running, half-walking.
Faizal, already panting, groaned, "I think I’ll just stay back and keep watch." He slapped his knees dramatically, hoping for sympathy.
"Hang in there, Faizal, we’re almost there," Badrul reassured, holding back a laugh.
The dimly lit night, accompanied only by the glow of street lamps, made them extra cautious, like spies in an action film. Johan occasionally glanced back to ensure Din and Faizal hadn’t fallen too far behind.
"I swear… after this, we need a fund for buying a motorbike," Din complained, now far behind but still determined to keep up.
The blue Proton Wira, however, seemed to be cruising leisurely, almost as if giving them the chance to continue their ‘exercise’ for the night.
After a short while, the man in brown stepped out of his car and met an older man in his late forties, casually dressed in faded jeans and a black T-shirt.
Aiman and his friends hid behind a wall, trying to eavesdrop.
"I think that old guy is their boss," Badrul whispered.
Johan pulled a small Sony Handycam from his backpack. It was compact enough to fit in his palm. "Good thing I brought this. We might capture something important tonight," he said as he started recording through a gap in the wall.
They listened carefully to the conversation.
"Everything’s ready; we’ll distribute the goods at the night market tomorrow."
"Anyone getting suspicious?"
"So far, no one. Just some kids poking their noses where they shouldn’t."
Aiman and Johan exchanged glances. The kids—that could only mean them!
"Alright, don’t worry. If they meddle again, we’ll give them a little warning."
Suddenly, Faizal let out a thunderous sneeze.
"HAAATCHOO!"
The man in brown immediately turned around.
"Oi! Someone’s spying on us!"
"RUN!" Johan shouted.
Without hesitation, they turned and bolted towards the mosque. The narrow village alleys became their escape route, resembling a chase scene straight out of Grand Theft Auto: Vice City.
The man in brown and his associate gave chase, but youth was on their side.
Faizal nearly got caught when he tripped, but he managed to roll into a small ditch just in time.
"Woi, run faster, bro!" Din panted from behind.
Johan, still pushing his bicycle, shouted, "Quick, hop on the back!"
Aiman and Badrul swiftly jumped onto the bike, and they all sped towards Aiman’s house.
Once they were absolutely sure they had lost their pursuers, they collapsed onto Aiman’s veranda, catching their breath.
"That… was intense," Din gasped.
"The important thing is—we have evidence," Johan added, holding up his Handycam and rewinding the footage.
They scrutinised the faces of the two men on the tiny screen.
"We need to find out who that old man is," Aiman said determinedly.
Badrul nodded. "And we need to be ready for tomorrow. If that ‘stock’ is going to be distributed at the night market, this is our chance."
Everyone nodded in agreement. The mystery of the missing kuih was close to being solved—but danger was now creeping closer.