Indonesian Gold (79 page)

‘Jesus!'

Samuels visualized Fielding shaking his head in disbelief.
‘Sure is a first, Chris. How the fuck someone can simply fall out of a helicopter beats the shit
outa me!'

‘Are you sure?'

‘Well, if it had been phoned in by anyone else but
Campbell, I would've waited for further confirmation before calling. As far as I'm

concerned, the man's completely reliable.'

‘Shit!'

‘Yeah, I know. It's a real bummer. Were you
close?'

Fielding drew heavily on the cigarette then exhaled. It
was only then that he noticed his hand was shaking. ‘No, not really.'

‘Sorry to be the one to break the news, Chris – will you
inform her family?'

‘Sure, thanks Phil, I'll go into the office and get some
numbers now. Appreciate the call.'

****

Alexander Kremenchug paced, wringing his hands. ‘It's not
possible!' he continued to rant, Christopher Fielding staring out the window into space, unaware
of the arrangements in place between his fellow director and the late Sharon Ducay. ‘God, we're
screwed!'

‘The company has no liability,' Fielding misunderstood,
‘she was under contract. It's not our problem.' ‘Jesus Christ! I'm not interested in any piddling
insurance claim, Chris!' ‘Knock it off, Alex. I was as fond of Sharon as you. And, I agree, we
both owe her a great deal. If it hadn't been for…' ‘Shut up, Chris!' Kremenchug snapped, ‘you
have no idea what I'm talking about.' ‘Easy, Alex,' Fielding turned from the window, and the
evening sky beyond. ‘It's not going to make much difference to the stock.' ‘Screw the stock!'
Kremenchug ceased pacing, his breath short, overwhelmed by the gravity of Sharon's
demise.

Fielding had called him at his hotel to break the news,
Kremenchug agreeing to meet in the BGC offices to discuss the ramifications of Sharon's death. He
had hurried down the quiet city street, his mind unable to accept the enormity of what this loss
would mean to his pocket. Without her, he stood to lose tens of millions, his share of the
proceeds generated from the sale of BGC stock. He felt faint.

‘Any idea what time is in the Philippines?' Fielding had
scribbled down some numbers while waiting for his associate to arrive.

Kremenchug
ignored the
question, refusing to come to terms with the fact that Sharon was gone. ‘Are you absolutely sure
there's been no mistake?'

‘Samuels was sure. Says Campbell saw the body.'

‘Campbell? Stewart Campbell?'

‘Yes. Seems he's now on Baron's payroll.'

‘Shit!'

‘Look, Alex, someone has to inform her family in Manila.
Do you want to make the call?'

Kremenchug
was about to refuse
when a thought came to mind. ‘Don't think she's got anyone left, but I'll ring the old guy who
took care of her uncle while he was alive. Jesus,' he shook his head, ‘I spoke to Alfredo just a
couple of days ago.'

‘She had a sizeable bonus due.'

Kremenchug
pounced, his hopes
rising with another possibility. ‘Did she leave any written instructions with the
office?'

‘A will?'

‘Anything.'

‘No, but you might ask that guy in Manila. If he was that
close, he might be able to fill us in.' Fielding was beat, and ready to retire. ‘Anyone else we
should inform?'

Kremenchug was aware of Sharon's connections in the
British Virgin Islands where she'd registered and operated Dominion Mining, but had no knowledge
of the intricate arrangements the Filipino had put into place, to facilitate their original sham.
‘I'll let the Dominion people know later. They're three hours ahead of us.'

‘What about the press?'

‘Fuck the press!'

‘We've got to give them something.'

‘You can handle that, I'm going back to the
hotel.'

‘When are you gonna phone Manila?'

Kremenchug
's face was stone.
‘As soon as I get to my room.'

****

His first call from the hotel was to Jakarta, where he
asked to be patched through to Longdamai, and Eric Baird.

‘Campbell's report was forwarded by Baron. Is it
true?'

‘Can't believe she's dead.' Kremenchug could tell from the
slur that Baird had started earlier than usual, his heart dropping with the
confirmation.

‘What the fuck happened?'

‘She fell. It's as simple as that.'

‘How can you fall out of a helicopter for
Chrissakes?'

‘Sharon could do anything she set her mind to.'

Kremenchug
, thinking he
detected an impish giggle, pulled the handset away from his ear and glared angrily into the
receiver. ‘Prick!' he shouted.

‘Hey, Alex, we've started a wake over here.' Another
giggle, then, ‘Lighten up – there's nothing you can do. She's dead, and that's that.'

Kremenchug
consciously
breathed deeply to calm his nerves. He had known Baird for years and knew that yelling at the man
had little affect. ‘What's Campbell doing there?'

Baird smirked at the other end of the line. ‘Who, Stewart?
He's the Baron rep on site.'

‘Shouldn't you be outa there by now?' Kremenchug's
curiosity was now aroused.

‘Yeah, but the place has grown on me so much, thought I
might stay. Say, Alex, when can I have my money?'

‘Fielding's responsible for fixing bonuses, not me,'
Kremenchug responded, caustically.

‘I meant my half of the three quarter mill from the sale
of our shares.'

‘We blew it.' Kremenchug, looking at a loss of tens of
millions suddenly realized that the proceeds from selling the BGC shares he jointly owned with
Baird, might now be the only liquidity left.

Stunned silence left the airwaves to occasional static as
Eric Baird absorbed the import of what had been said. ‘You blew it? What the fuck are you playing
at, Alex?'

Kremenchug
knew there was
nothing more to be gained from continuing this conversation. Baird could add nothing new to what
he had already learned from Fielding. ‘It's gone. We dropped it all selling the stock short
before the announcement was made. None of us thought it would go up again.'

‘All of it?'

‘Yes, the lot,' he lied; something he did best.

This was followed by a pause so lengthy the Jakarta
operator monitoring, terminated the connection thinking the two parties had finished their
conversation. In Kalimantan, Eric Baird's blood-drained face reflected his shock, the effect
instantly sobering – whilst in Vancouver, Alexander Kremenchug shrugged his shoulders thinking
the geologist had hung up, and reciprocated by slamming the phone back into its cradle, closing
yet another chapter in his unsavory life. He then decided to book on the first available flight
to the Philippines.

****

Longdamai Mining Camp

As the day progressed, Eric Baird continued his slide
towards the depths of despair, obsessed with the reality that Mardidi had willingly left with
Angela Dau, and refused to return. There had been no falling out, and neither had there been any
sign that Mardidi had been unhappy with their relationship. Although devastated by Kremenchug's
betrayal and the realization that money would now be tight, Baird believed he could still manage
to survive, somehow – but, only if Mardidi were to remain an integral part of his
life.

‘You can evacuate with the others, if you want,' Campbell
offered.

‘Is there a problem if I stay?' Baird's disconsolate
figure sat slumped outside his cabin. Campbell had found him sitting alone and, without seeking
his approval, had joined the Australian, occupying what had been Mardidi's rattan
chair.

‘No, as far as I'm concerned, you can remain here until
Baron sends in its own team to assume control.'

‘What do you think really happened?' Baird asked, his
voice slurred from the limited Bacardi stock he secretly maintained on site.

‘Mardidi?'

‘No, Sharon.'

‘One of those freak accidents,' Campbell accepted the
porcelain mug, sipped the rum, then frowned. ‘Why, what's on your mind?'

Baird leaned back pushing the cane chair into an
impossible position on two legs. ‘Nothing. It's just that she had so much to live for. Why do you
think she did it?'

Campbell
glanced at Baird.
‘Are you saying that you think she jumped?'

‘There's enough evidence to suggest so.'

‘Like what?'

‘Well, for starters, she was severely depressed for days
prior to her death. Her uncle had died, and she had just been given her marching orders. Shit,
Stewart, we're both geologists. How would
you
feel if you were shafted the way she
was?'

‘Eric, I think Sharon Ducay was a much stronger person
than you give her credit for. If she'd been a man, she would have had balls the size of a
buffalo's. I don't know how much you knew about Sharon but, one thing I'm certain of, she didn't
throw herself out of any aircraft.'

‘Well, we're never gonna know.'

Campbell
wanted to pursue this
line of conversation. ‘Furthermore, she had a whopping great bonus waiting for her in Canada. Why
would she forgo that?'

Baird's interest was drawn. ‘Do you know how
much?'

Campbell
thought for a moment
before replying. ‘Had to be at least two, three hundred thousand.'

‘Shit!'

‘Yeah, right! You see, it wouldn't have been in Sharon's
interests not to return and take advantage of that much money.'

‘That then leaves us with the accident theory.'

‘It's not a theory, Eric. The pilot's account makes sense
once you've removed the emotion. Freak accident? Sure. Suicide? No way.' Campbell then moved on.
‘What's the latest on Mardidi?'

Baird reached down and grasped the bottle. He offered
Campbell a top up but the American shook his head and placed his hand over his mug. ‘Nothing.
Seems he's done a runner.'

‘Why?' Campbell was sincere. Although he was not overly
fond of the Australian, he reluctantly admitted that Baird had produced some fine work out in the
field, and that had it not been for his association with Alex Kremenchug, they might even have
been on better terms.

Baird shrugged. ‘That's the problem, I just don't know.'
He looked slyly at his companion. ‘Perhaps you could ask Angela, the next time you're speaking to
her?'

Campbell
snorted. ‘Yeah,
sure,' with which, Baird having touched a nerve, he changed his mind and held the mug out for
another shot, the two then settling down for an afternoon together, their minds filled with the
calamitous events of the past two days.

****

Penehing Community

‘Get away!'
Angela
threw a rock at a scavenging dog, missing the animal, hitting the twisted wreckage of the
parabolic television dish. Together with others in their party, Jonathan and Angela had searched
through knee-deep ashes throughout the day but, due to the intensity of the fire, none of the
remains could be identified.

‘Enough!'
the chief
called, tormented by his daughter's accusatory stares which had accompanied the discovery of
bones of children.

‘
It is time to leave. We should get back to the others,
before dark.
'

‘It's hard to believe that it's all gone,'
Angela was gripped with sadness.
‘Apart from this, we've lost
everything.'
She indicated the aluminum case containing the two kilos of gold.
‘What will
we use for capital to rebuild?'

Jonathan Dau dusted his powder-covered legs with a free
hand.
‘Why, the insurance money, what else?'

‘How can you be so confident that he will
return?'

‘
Because he believes that we have the woman he
loves.
'

‘I wish I could share your confidence, Father.'

Jonathan shot his daughter a stern look, the words that
followed, prophetic.
‘He'll come back, just wait and see.'

‘What will we do about the dead?'
Angela remained subordinate; she would not question her father publicly, out
of respect.

‘We must return with all of our people and hold a ceremony
to farewell their spirits. Then it will be for the remaining council of elders to decide whether
our community resettles here, or we move on.'