The hoarding advertised, in bright pink and green neon, OPENING SOON: FONG LAU’s HOUSE OF IMPERIAL DELIGHTS . This segued into a recording of a buxom blonde with an equally well-endowed brunette beckoning the watcher enticingly towards a pair of Oriental gates, which opened onto a scene reminiscent of the Arabian Nights – all soft mattresses and cushions, satin hangings, silk wafting in the breeze from fans waved by underclad boys …

“Well, I’ll be there when it’s built,” Simon deadpanned.

“Not your cup of tea?” Zoe asked.

“Not even if I was in the middle of the desert dying of thirst.”

The picture changed again, and Hank put his head on one side. “Is that even physically possible?”

Zoe ignored him and pointed to a broken area of fencing. “We need to get inside and take a look.”

“And if they’re building already?” Simon asked.

“Then we’re going to have problems.”

Hank pulled the fencing further open, and they squeezed through.

“When did they say this was going up?” Hank looked around. “Only I think they’re late.”

In front of them was an empty space, bordered on all sides by high fencing and more hoardings. The ground was clear, apart from general detritus piled high in the corners where the wind had blown it in from the street.

“Good news for us,” Zoe said, looking at him. “Got the scanner?”

Hank tugged the small instrument from his pocket. “Got it.”

“What are we actually looking for?” Simon asked. “Gold? Paper currency?”

“Whatever’s here.” Zoe shrugged. “Mal ain't even sure there’s anything to find, and it’s entirely possible it’s been dug up already if there is. But we look.”

Simon studied the plan they’d printed. “I think this is going to more or less useless,” he said. “Without the house to orientate it, we’re not going to have much luck.”

“I don’t know,“ Hank added unexpectedly. “Looks like the main doors opened onto the street we came in on, and the X is in the back half, so I’d say we’ve saved ourselves a third of the area.”

“We still h