Indonesian Gold (89 page)

‘Everything seemed to be going along fine. There was even
a report on the BBC. There's no doubt that someone fell, or was thrown out of the chopper, the
only question is, who?' The
M.V. Rager's
captain waved to the impatient hooker waiting at
the far end of the bar, then turned his attention back to the matter at hand. He'd stash Sharon's
advance of a hundred thousand in gold for a rainy day. ‘What do you want me to do?'

Alfredo was struggling with uncertainty. ‘Might be best if
you remained on standby for a while, just in case.'

‘Fine by me, Alfredo – you know how to get hold of me if
there's anything new.'

Alfredo rang off then sat staring at the phone. It was so
unlike Sharon to initiate changes to a plan without signaling such intent. For the first time
since the scheme had been concocted, he became deeply troubled, and prepared to countenance the
possibility that Sharon may have lost her life.

****

Longhouse
Island

Jonathan Dau's farewell ceremony continued with the waning
moon. Each night, Udir repeated his shrill calls to waken the dead, while during the day, Angela
maintained her demanding routine as the newly anointed,
Penehing
priestess. The crescent
shaped sign had all but disappeared from the sky when the now twenty-thousand strong Dayak
gathering again fell to a hush as young warriors lifted Jonathan's rattan and bamboo throne, and
carried the dead shaman to the thatched-roofed hut built beside the river. They placed the chief
in the center of the room together with an effigy carved in his likeness, then left the chief to
commence his final journey. Angela followed, entering the small building and closing the door
behind. In total darkness the priestess moved to exorcise her father's spirit by commencing the
muqaak tok
rites, reciting the mantra she had learned as a child. With carved dogs, tigers
and dragons silent witnesses to the spiritual world she stomped her feet and called upon
ancestors to gather and purify her father's soul, the ritual continuing until Angela, threatened
with exhaustion, exited the hut carrying a small statue representing Jonathan Dau, and cast it
into the river.

****

Uncomfortable with the constant, and often hostile stares
Stewart Campbell moved even further away from the crowded grotto. Something pulled at his
trousers and he looked down to find Yuh-Yuh with outstretched arms, terrified by the strange
events and hordes of unfamiliar faces.
‘Don't tell me she's forgotten all about you, too?'
Campbell patted Yuh-Yuh on the head and the ape responded by offering the American a gift. At
first, in the poor light, Campbell had no idea what it was that she held onto so possessively.
‘Come on, Yuh-Yuh, what have you got there?'

In one hand, Yuh-Yuh carried a very dirty and crumpled
Akubra. Campbell led the
orangutan
towards a bamboo torch where he examined the find,
straightening the broad-brimmed hat into some semblance of its original shape. Then, holding the
evidence in his hands he looked over the heads of the crowd to where the sky was ablaze with
fire, his mind dwelling on the nagging question as to how Sharon Ducay's unmistakable Akubra
could possibly be there.

He had seen the Filipino board the helicopter – an hour
later she was dead. When he'd looked inside the Bell 205 he was positive that he would have
remembered seeing the briefcase, or her hat, had either been there.

****

Udir stepped forward and handed Angela a flaming torch.
She lifted it high for all to see – twenty thousand Dayaks watching with great expectation as the
priestess called out again, beseeching the spirits to take their leader, and unite Jonathan Dau
with his ancestors. She paused, offering a final, and private word for her father, threw the
torch into the air and withdrew, the assembly roaring with delight as flames spread across the
thatched roof and lit the sky. Within seconds, the methyl alcohol-laced timber building exploded
into a ball of flame, Angela shielding her face from the intense heat as the structure imploded
and, in one fleeting moment she caught a glimpse of her father, larger in death than he ever was
in life staring blankly through the flames. Startled, she cried out
‘Papa!'
– but the
chief was already gone.

An hour passed before Campbell swallowed his concerns and
rejoined the ceremony. Yuh-Yuh had accompanied the American, straddling his waist for only part
of the way until, panicked by the fire, the
orangutan
dropped to the ground and fled,
Akubra intact. By then, Campbell had arrived at the conclusion that the presence of both Sharon
Ducay's hat and briefcase on the island had to be connected in some way with the helicopter
pilot, Captain Subandi. And, as he was also dead, he doubted that the question would ever be
resolved. He made his way through the thinning crowd to where Angela continued leading with
prayer, amazed at her resilience, and so deeply moved by what she'd become.

When morning drifted across the Mahakam lifting night's
dark veil, the fire was spent, and blood-red embers cooled, Angela scooped a handful of ashes
from amongst the charred remains and, with somnambulant gait, drifted towards the river's edge.
Morning's first rays blinked life across the landscape and the young priestess raised her head,
the soft chant spilling from her lips to bless Jonathan Dau's ashes as she sprinkled his mortal
remains over the Mahakam waters. The air moved, and Angela lifted her face to the heavens
sighting a hornbill gliding silently, overhead, following the proceedings. With raised, open
palms and a soft puff off the lips, Angela sent dust from the ashes floating skywards and, with a
gesture of finality, washed her hands in the river, looked back into the sky, smiled, and blew
the guardian hornbill a kiss.

****

With the celebrations over, the main body of visitors
gradually dispersed, leaving whatever they had brought for the ceremony to their impoverished,
Penehing
cousins. Udir had summoned the villagers to vote while the opportunity prevailed
and, without exception, Angela Dau was accepted as her father's replacement, both spiritually,
and as the Longhouse spokesperson. It would still require some years before she would be
appointed chief. While women gathered bolts of cloth, utensils and tools, their men set to work
building temporary shelters and pens for recently acquired livestock – gifts from Dayak villages,
both near and far – Angela and Stewart, now bidding farewell.

‘You know that the Penehing will always be grateful for
all you have done?'

Campbell
held Angela's hands
in his.
‘It wasn't their gratitude I sought.'

She lifted forward onto her toes and kissed him tenderly.
‘Come back and visit, anytime. In the Penehing community, Stewart Campbell will always be
welcome.'

‘Is there anything else that you need, anything I can
help you with before I leave Longdamai?'
He had already informed
Baron of his intention to resign.

‘
You've already done so much.
'

‘How are you all going to survive?'

Angela swept an arm across the landscape.
‘We will
rebuild our Longhouse from forest timbers.Thanks to the generosity of the other communities, we
will have sufficient food to carry us through until the first harvest. The gold will help us
replace the generator and other essential items.What we really need is capital to build schools
and hospitals, not just the Penehing, but for the entire Dayak nation.We remain abandoned by
Jakarta and our resources plundered, Stewart.That's why I must stay with my
people.'

‘
At least work will cease on the Longdamai
land.
'

‘There'll be others,'
she reminded,
‘and when they leave, there'll still be the scar.'

‘
Baron Mining will want to re-drill most of the area,
just to be sure.
'

‘
How long will this take?
'

‘
A month or two – three at the most.
'

‘Why did Sharon do it?'
Angela knew only of the insurance fraud.

‘
We'll never know. My guess is she was somehow involved
with Eric Baird's foreign partner – most likely selling shares.
'

‘Poor Eric,'
there was
so much she would never reveal to Campbell.
‘What will he do?'

‘
Expect he will fold his tent like the rest of us and
find somewhere else to go.
'

‘
You're not leaving Indonesia?
'

‘No, I'm not. But, I certainly could do with a
break.'

They stood alongside the longboat that would take him back
to the mining camp. Yuh-Yuh, seeing her favorite people side by side scampered across and threw
long, hairy arms around their legs and hugged fiercely.

‘Well, this is it,'
he
reached down and stroked Yuh-Yuh's crown. Campbell held Angela by the shoulders.
‘If you need
anything, just call.'

‘I will miss you, Stewart Campbell.'
When their cheeks brushed – only Angela's remained dry.

An outboard engine roared into life and the American
climbed onboard. Within moments they were underway and, as they neared the river bend and were
about to disappear from view he turned, and waved a final goodbye.

****

Road Town
– Tortola – British Virgin Islands

‘We have confirmation from the correspondent bank that the
funds have been deposited as requested, Mister Daworth.'

Charles Daworth of the British Virgin Island law firm,
Rankin, Daworth & Double adjusted his spectacles then continued reading the file. A clipping
from the International Herald Tribune had been stapled to the inside cover, Sharon Ducay's
photograph staring back mockingly, with a smile.

‘Then, as of today, Dominion Mining Incorporated will no
longer exist. Have you prepared the notices?'

The lawyer's secretary placed another file on his desk. ‘I
will start the company deregistration process, immediately you sign.'

Satisfied, Charles Daworth executed with a flourish of the
wrist then handed both files to his most efficient assistant. ‘One would think that Miss Ducay
must have had a premonition moving her funds at the time that she did. Still, all the same, messy
business that, falling out of a helicopter.'

‘Was Miss Dau related to Miss Ducay?'

Daworth shook his head. ‘I have no idea – I didn't inquire
when Miss Ducay set up the new accounts.'

‘Do you think Miss Dau will be requiring our services?'
the secretary asked, always hopeful for new business.

‘I wouldn't think so,' Daworth said, already moving on to
other matters. He looked up, surprised that she was still standing there. ‘Don't dally, my dear,
we've still a great deal of work to do.'

The secretary exited, returning to her workstation where
she completed the mandatory filing to the BVI authorities. By mid-afternoon, following the path
of so many other shelf companies whose beneficiaries had suddenly disappeared, Sharon Ducay's
Dominion Mining Incorporated ceased to exist.

****

Chapter Thirty-One

 

September 1996

 

Eric Baird

Baird stood on the jetty surveying the deserted site
recalling what it had been like when they'd first arrived. Gone were the coconut stands and
towering trees that had encircled the original clearing – in their place, scarred landscape and
bitter memories of what had once been mooted as the greatest gold fine in history. The camp had
literally disappeared in less than a month. The shanty-styled Madurese dwellings had been burned
to the ground along with the barrack-styled cabins that once housed mining staff, both acts of
retribution by the departing and disillusioned labor force. The heli-rigs and other equipment had
been repatriated first, followed by the drillers – the camp torched by the few remaining Madurese
once they had searched the site for whatever might have been overlooked by management.

Baird had been surprised that Stewart Campbell had been
amongst the first to leave. Baron Mining' executives, already convulsing from the leaks and a
formidable, investigative press were eager for Baird to remain onsite, as he had been present
during Sharon Ducay's tenure as senior geologist. Finally, when subsequent, randomly drilled
holes substantiated earlier suspicions that samples had been tampered with, Baron pulled the plug
and ordered an immediate demobilization. Following Mardidi's inexplicable disappearance, the
exposure of drill test result tampering, the unexplainable attacks on the
Penehing
villagers and Sharon's questionable death, Baird suspected that his lover had somehow become
innocently embroiled in one or more of these incidents, resulting in his death.

The Australian geologist returned to Jakarta and his
rotund partner, retired AVM Subroto who, upon discovering that Alexander Kremenchug had turned
his share of the BGC windfall into yet another disaster, suffered a severe stroke. The
consultancy company,