... notable events : Midnight chat with the Subang Jaya Police

I was back in KL for the holidays and as usual, my old school friends
had taken the opportunity to gather for a good time. It was the
pre-university years, the turn of the decade going into the final
decade of the last millenium. All of us were finishing our
pre-university studies at colleges taking Grades 12/13, the Malaysian
Form Upper 6 STPM, or in our final years taking the Cambridge A-level
exams and would soon be headed to universities. Like most Chinese
families in Malaysia, almost all of us were headed overseas for our
degrees, to the USA, to Australia, to UK and for me, either one of the
local universities in Singapore or elsewhere. We all knew that after
these last couple of meetings, we would part company for at least 4-5
years and who knows how many of our number would gather again after
obtaining our degrees. We had all been very close in highschool, bonds
which were forged over time under Lord Baden Powell's code of honour in
the Scouting brotherhood, sleeping, eating, camping, crapping, playing,
skirt-chasing, fighting and practically doing everything together. We
knew each other's parents, we eyed each other's sisters, we bullied
each other's little brothers and we defended each other from elder
brothers. Everyone made the effort to come out and party.

It was
one of my usual trips back to party and destress. It was always good to
get away once in awhile from the not-so-subtle stifling confinement of
the Singapore living environment. Usually travelling 7-8 hours by
overnight train from Singapore, I would arrive in KL in the early hours
of the morning in time to wait for the first buses to run and take me
home for a couple hours of undisturbed sleep before making the vital
calls to rally the party gang.

So it was at one of the usual
"mamak stall" eating places in Petaling Jaya that we ate, laughed and
chatted our time away until it was well past midnight. We piled back
into the two cars that we had managed to commandier from parents
specially for that night, one an expensively new BMW from the rich kid
in our group, and another a still-going-strong first generation Datsun
120Y that had only just been allowed into my friend's hands for the
very first time. We were undecided as to where to go next. Some of us
were rather keen on hitting some of the discos in downtown KL while
others just wanted to drive around and eat some more. We were all still
young teenagers and while we all already had our driving licenses,
actually having cars to utilize our licenses to go vroom, vroom was
still very much a rarity, much less having two cars. We intended to go
crazy.

Seven of us squished into the two cars, we drove off
initially headed towards the satellite township of Subang Jaya to see
what we could do next. Arriving at Subang Jaya we found the place not
too our liking and so we turned off into a side street residential area
to discuss our next move. This was a time when mobile phones were still
very much toys for the filthy rich and we had to do all our discussing
via direct modulation of the gaseous medium.

So there we were,
by the side of the road of a quiet residential neighbourhood in the
dead of the night, motors running while we leaned out windows and threw
options to and fro between the two cars. Two persons came by on a
scooter and stopped directly behind us.

"Police." the pillion rider yelled, getting off the scooter. "All of you... out of the cars."

Uhhh...
ok. They looked nothing like police officers but we got out of the cars
all the same. "Yes?" we asked the two indian men on the scooter who
were busy trying to look fierce.

"What are you all doing here?"
the shorter one asked harshly. "There have been a few break-ins by
armed robbers in the neighbourhood. We've just received a complaint
from one of the residents. Let me see your identity cards." he demanded.

Some
of us looked a little intimidated while others looked amused. "Show us
proof that you're police officers." someone retorted, gathering a
chorus of nods and grunts of approval all around. Yeah. Thank goodness
for cool headed minds.

A couple of badges were produced and two
of us took them for scrutiny in the car headlights. I looked on with
mixed feelings. Hope and expectation on my face as I watched my friends
read the badges, but their faces said it all.

"Guys, they ARE police." they mumbled in resignation.

"We're
undercover detectives." the taller policeman replied triumphantly.
"Identity cards PLEASE." they ordered. We sullenly complied and one by
one we handed our ICs over while the protestations began. "We didn't do
anything..." "We are students..." "We just stopped to decide where to
go to eat..." "I'm sorry officer, I just want to go home..."

"Open
your car trunks." they ordered the drivers, obviously relishing their
superiority. "Do you have any weapons on you?" they asked us, daring us
to say yes. Of course we didn't. I gave them an incruduleous look and
said, "Armed robbery, in a BMW?". They ignored me. I caught my friend's
eye and whispered. "They are not giving our ICs back." he nodded in
reply. "Yeah, we're stuck until they do." Damn.

So there we
were, playing twenty questions with the two policemen who looked in the
car trunks, looked under the car bonnets, looked into the car
interiors, and did their damnest to find anything that they could call
a weapon. We waited patiently, knowing that the evening had just gone
to the dogs.

The reponses from each of us were all different,
ranging from near panic to resignation and indignation. "We've done
nothing wrong..." "I'm expected home soon and I can't be late..." But
the police had the right to stop and search any illegal assembly, and
seven persons, all male, on a darkened residential street, was an
illegal assembly.

"Can we have our ICs back please?" someone
asked echoing the fear in our minds. That was the one thing keeping us
from just leaving. "No." came the reply. "Please follow us back the the
balai (station)." came the dreaded order.

With heavy hearts,
groans of agony, shrugging of shoulders and some fairly frantic
protestations, we piled back into the cars to chase the now receeding
scooter and our ICs which were still unreturned. "We have to get the
ICs back. Just play along and we'll be ok." we comforted ourselves in
the privacy of the car.

"What do they want?" someone asked.
"Isn't it obvious?" came the reply. Money. Bribe them and we'll get our
ICs back.... probably... we couldn't really be sure but that was our
consenses. "Can they lock us up?" a query arose. Not sure. Possibly.
They could hold us for 24 hours without charge... we think. That
thought really scared us and it stayed with us until we reached the
police station. Parking the cars we dragged ourselves out again to
follow the two policemen into the station's compound.

"Sit
down." they motioned, pointing to the outdoor table and seats in the
station's little garden. I had even initially followed the two officers
into the station when we first arrived only to be waved back outside.
That was when we knew for sure, exactly what they wanted. I smirked and
my friend threw me a knowing gaze. Yeah, they wanted money alright. Why
else all this wayang and shadow play? If we were in trouble, then book
us. Take us to the duty officer and tell us exactly why we were being
held. Why this rubbish about wanting to talk to us outside in the
garden. What's there to say? We're either suspect, or we're not.

We
now knew this was nothing but an elaborate scare. We might be young but
we were certainly not naive. Thinking we would breakdown at the sight
of a police station? Ok, we too can play the same game. So we also
stalled for time. We took our seats around the stone garden table and
we started to play.

My friend took the lead and we all chimed in
taking his cue. We chit-chatted, telling them I was due to catch the
train back to Singapore in the morning and couldn't miss the train. We
talked about needing to call our parents to come solve the problem. We
talked about having to return the cars or face angry parents. We talked
about how late it was and good boys ought to be home in bed. We talked
about everything and anything until I think the two Indian policemen
just gave up on us.

"Go home." they said with a disgusted wave.
We smirked and smiled pleasantly knowing we'd beaten the two. They
handed back our ICs with sharp short warnings not to cause anymore
trouble to each and everyone of us. We collected our ICs happy to get
them back safe and sound. "Thank you officer." we chorused, relieved to
be out of that place. We walked out rather smugly but all of us
emotionally drained from the ordeal.

Our night was spoilt. It
was almost 5am in the morning by then and we were all tired, annoyed
and just wanting to go back home to our beds. Piling back into the cars
we made the rounds dropping everyone back home, just happy to get the
whole episode over and behind us.