Night was falling, the full moon was rising over the bank building. The sheriff was already there, rubbing his temples. He always had a headache on nights like this. The storehouse was cleaned out, not a single trace of the robbers. The vault was not opened, no one was hurt… but the money disappeared.

Nobody saw anything, but it couldn’t be that simple. Sheriff Semuels could easily imagine the raiders. The way they break through the front doors, threatening with all weapons. He could have figured them out blowing up the vault door or removing it with cutters. Too noisy, too dangerous…

Semuels could also imagine a different alignment of events. No one saw the robbers because they entered the vault immediately. The sheriff saw in his mind how a hole appeared in the floor from a directional explosion. Robbers equipped with bags come out of it. The vault opens – no money, no thieves.

But this version did not fit either. There were no obvious traces of percussion, unless… The Sheriff became rooted to the spot. He interviewed the bank employees that used to be in this building. They told him that there was a library with a network of underground storage facilities. However, when it was closed and a bank was built on the site, many of the premises were walled up…

“They knew about them”, Semuels went straight to the vault. “They knew about other passages…Well-read thieves.”