Indonesian Gold (21 page)

‘The General had only one brother,' she said, a touch of
sadness in her voice.

‘And your uncle has no children?' Kremenchug noticed the
absence of anything that might suggest to the contrary.

‘No,' Sharon confirmed. ‘I guess that you could say that
we are the only two left.' She took Kremenchug by the arm. ‘Let's go out into the garden and I'll
show you my favorite place.'

Kremenchug
noticed a sudden
change in her demeanor and fell silent, conscious that the subject of her immediate family was
sensitive. They strolled out to the rear garden and down a pathway to a corner filled with
trees.

‘The property covers one hectare,' Sharon revealed. ‘As a
child, I used to spend hours down here playing on the swings whenever we visited. See,' she
pointed, ‘there's the swing where I fell off and broke my arm.'

Kremenchug
raised hands in
mock surprise. ‘You broke your arm? What a coincidence,' he exclaimed, ‘so did I!' An inveterate
liar, Kremenchug had never broken a limb in his life and his tongue slipped.

Sharon
was curious. ‘Which
arm?'

Kremenchug
hesitated, then
lifted his left arm. ‘I fell over playing soccer.'

Sharon
glanced at the
well-tanned limb as if looking for a scar. ‘It's not the same when a girl breaks
hers.'

She steered Kremenchug away from the childhood playground
her uncle had provided for his brother's children, to a secluded spot surrounded by palms. Here,
timeless cycads set around a waterfall, stood alone, their rich-green branches raised, embracing
sunlight. Shimmering, golden carp swam carelessly through the shallow pond filled with water
lilies, their mouths pumping the surface, expecting to be fed. Amongst the rocks, cannas stood
erect, their brilliant reds and yellows in defiance of the
kastubas,
providing a colorful
mix against a background filled with
torch ginger.

‘That's from Borneo,' Sharon pointed to the carnivorous
pitcher plants. Kremenchug inspected the growth. ‘Don't suppose it has any bearing on why I'm
here?' he suggested, light-heartedly.

‘No more questions until later, please, Alex,' Sharon
insisted.

‘Okay,' Kremenchug shrugged, earlier tension washed away
by the garden setting. With hands clasped behind her back Sharon raised her face to the afternoon
sun, and Kremenchug was again struck by the woman's beauty. Something tugged at his insides and,
without a second's hesitation he moved in closer and tried to kiss her.

Having encouraged the move, Sharon then stepped out of
reach. ‘Please, not here, Alex, my uncle might see.'

Kremenchug
reached out. ‘You
are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.'

‘Words every woman wishes to hear. Even your
wife?'

He pulled a face. ‘We don't have much of a relationship
anymore.'

‘I'm sorry to hear that, Alex.'

He shrugged, building the lie. ‘We don't even share the
same room.'

Sharon
fought to prevent the
smile from blooming. ‘I'm sorry to hear that, also. It must be very difficult for
you?'

‘Yes, it complicates my life.' Then, with even greater
embellishment, ‘I've almost forgotten what it's like to be this close to an attractive
woman.'

Now, Sharon was forced to chew on the inside of her lip to
prevent laughter escaping. ‘Then we'll have to do something about that.'

Kremenchug
's face lit up with
hope. ‘Then there's no one else in your life at this moment?'

‘No one, Alex.'

‘I find that hard to understand. You're young, stunning,
intelligent…'

‘Stop, enough!' Sharon held her hands in surrender and
laughed. ‘Tell you what, Mister, I'll let you buy me a nightcap after the General retires
tonight.'

Satisfied, he beamed. ‘That'll be a good
start.'

‘Speaking of the General, we have to meet with my uncle in
an hour.'

‘Then I'll just have time to shower and
change.'

‘The General likes to dress for dinner,' she reminded
him.

‘That's fine. I came prepared. Shall we go back
inside?'

Sharon
walked alongside
Kremenchug, returning to the main residence.

‘I'll knock on your door at six,' she warned, leaving him
to wander down the long hallway to the guest quarters, alone.

****

True to her word, Sharon went to Kremenchug's room in the
guest wing to show him the way down for pre-dinner cocktails.

‘Will I do?' he asked, arms open wide.

‘Very handsome,
Mister
Kremenchug,' Sharon was
pleased that Alex had heeded her advice when his invitation to visit was first
extended.

‘And you look stunning, as usual.' Kremenchug's flattery
was appropriate. Sharon was dressed in a full length, backless evening gown, in shimmering
silk.

When they entered the lounge they found the General
standing alone, admiring a portrait. He turned and allowed them both an appreciative
smile.

‘Ah, there you are!' The General was wearing a
traditional, hand-embroidered
Barong Tagalog
, Kremenchug immediately wishing he had done
the same.

‘Good evening, General,' Kremenchug accepted a glass of
wine from the maid, and moved closer to the painting.

‘Family?' he asked.

General Dominguez slowly shook his head. ‘No. This is
General Gregorio del Pilar, one of our national heroes. He died in the Battle of Tirad Pass
almost a hundred years ago.' Dominguez selected from the tray of
pulutan,
the
hors
d'ouvres
a favorite of his. ‘Did Sharon show you our gardens?

Kremenchug
followed his host's
example, sampling the finger food. ‘Yes, General, your grounds are very impressive.'

Sharon
disappeared, leaving
the two men together, their conversation light and jovial, the General appearing to warm to his
guest. They discussed the Philippines under its current president, Fidel Valdez Ramos, General
Dominguez outlining how the man had supported Cory Aquino's presidency who, in turn, backed
Ramos' successful run, in 1992.

‘Don't fill up on those, Alex,' Sharon warned, sweeping
back into the room. Kremenchug had eaten half a tray of
pulutan
by this time, whilst
engaged in conversation with Dominguez. ‘The cook has prepared a number of local dishes for
tonight, and you should leave room to try them all.' She looked up at the grandfather clock as it
chimed. ‘Dinner will be served, shortly.'

Kremenchug
looked surprised.
‘There are no other guests?'

Sharon
touched his arm with
long, slender hand. ‘Tonight, we are to discuss our proposal, Alex. There will only be the three
of us.' Then, she flashed a smile. ‘Why, are you disappointed?'

‘No, for some reason I had it in my mind that there were
others involved.'

‘Later, you will understand why this can't be so.' At that
moment, Alfredo appeared in the doorway and nodded to Sharon.

‘Dinner is served,' she announced, ‘hope you are still
hungry, Alex?' Before Kremenchug could reply, she slipped her arms between the two men, and led
them into the dining room.

****

‘My God, I couldn't eat another morsel!' Kremenchug leaned
back and inhaled deeply. ‘The meal was delightful. Thank you.' They had started with a soup
Filipinos call
tinolang tahong,
an exotic dish made with plump mussels steamed with ginger
root, spinach and onion. Then, the long mahogany table was decorated with a most lavish spread,
Kremenchug delightfully surprised with the blend of tastes in the food that was served. They ate
lumpia sariwa, pork adobo, pancit
and
rellenong manok,
whole, deboned chicken that
had been stuffed with a mix of fowl, pork, ham, sausages and hard-boiled eggs, and sliced and
presented in the most mouth-watering way.

‘But you still have desert to come,' Sharon had eaten
sparingly, her appetite blunted by nerves. Although outwardly she appeared cool and reserved,
Sharon's condition was obvious to her uncle whose occasional, reassuring smiles carried her
through the meal.

‘Don't think I could face another mouthful.'

‘Are you sure? Marie has prepared sweets.'

‘No, I'm sorry, Sharon. I've eaten like a king, but thank
you all the same.'

‘Perhaps, when you return, we will organize a
lechon
to celebrate?' the General suggested.

Kremenchug
gave a quizzical
look as Sharon jumped in. ‘The General refers to another of our tasty traditional dishes, Alex.
Lechon
is roast, suckling pig.'

But Kremenchug knew what he had heard. ‘The General
mentioned, ‘celebrate'?'

Dominguez's eyes crossed slowly to his niece, then back to
his guest. In the ensuing void he wiped his mouth with a lace napkin, then leaned forward with
clasped hands on the table, and addressed them both.

‘It's time to take Alex into our confidence, Sharon,' the
words came out slowly, ‘and explain why we have invited him here.'

They exchanged glances. Sharon rose and left the room
briefly, giving instructions to Alfredo to ensure their privacy, then returned to her seat
opposite Kremenchug.

‘General, would you like to start?' she suggested; they
had rehearsed this scenario more than a dozen times together, her uncle's introduction necessary
to lay the foundation for their proposal to Kremenchug.

General Dominguez cleared his throat. ‘What I am about to
reveal to you, Alex, could place us in a most compromising position.' His voice became stern. ‘I
need for you to promise, here and now, that whatever you learn as a result of our discussions,
will never be disclosed to others. Before we take you into our confidence, Alex, we must have
your assurance that, regardless of the outcome of our meetings, whether you commit to proceed or
not, our secrets must remain with us.' He looked at Kremenchug. ‘Will you give us your word,
Alex?'

Kremenchug
was quite surprised
by the melodramatic request, gauging his response as his eyes moved from the General to Sharon,
then back again.

‘It's a big ask, General,' he replied, ‘I don't have any
problems with what you request, providing I'm not expected to make any commitments until I hear
it all.'

Satisfied with their guest's response, the General
continued. ‘Have you ever heard of the
“Yamashita Treasure”,
Alex?

At the mention of treasure, Kremenchug's hopes of a mining
proposal opportunity were instantly dashed. Disappointed, he shook his head. ‘No, General, can't
say that I have.'

‘Well, Alex, settle back and relax as this will take
awhile. It's imperative that you know this background as it has a direct bearing on what we wish
to propose.' General Dominguez signaled his niece, who rose and recharged their
glasses.

‘During the Japanese occupation of the Philippines from
1942 through to '45, for one reason or another, the Japanese High Command had decided to use my
country as a staging point for shipping the spoils of war their armies had gathered, during their
Asian campaigns. It may have been that they were concerned about growing Allied control over the
shipping lanes to Japan, or it might simply have been that General Tomoyuki Yamashita, once he
assumed command of Japanese forces here, simply wished to build a future empire of his own.
Whatever the reasons, treasures confiscated from temples, precious metals and stones taken from
private holdings and tons of gold stolen from vaults throughout the region, were all buried in
secret locations throughout these islands.' He looked over at Kremenchug to ensure that he had
the man's attention.

‘We believe that the bulk of the treasure was buried by
prisoners-of-war who were then entombed along with this incredible wealth. Some estimates place
the number of secret sites at just under two hundred. To protect the integrity of the holdings,
all were booby-trapped, to discourage digging in those locations.'

‘What happened to Yamashita?' Kremenchug inquired, his
interest growing.

‘He was hung as a war criminal in 1946.' General Dominguez
waved one hand as if dismissing the Japanese's role as having any import.

‘Did he reveal this information?'

‘No,' Sharon rejoined the conversation. ‘he took his
secret to the grave.'

‘But…?' Kremenchug started to ask, only to be interrupted
by his host waving his hands.

‘All in time, Alex, all in time.' The old man then
continued. ‘After the War, groups of soldiers and treasure hunters spent years excavating sites
all over the country. It was not until Marcos' presidency, that any real recoveries
occurred.'