Indonesian Gold (13 page)

Sharon Ducay accepted a napkin from a concerned waiter.
She dabbed directly below her breasts in what Campbell's mind were translated as soft, sensuous
movements.

‘I'll have to go and change,' she said. Campbell,
detecting no trace of malice in her voice, moved to make amends.

‘Please accept my apology?' he asked, determined not to
let her go, or at least accompany her if she were to leave. ‘I'm normally not this clumsy.' She
was obviously Asian – possibly Indonesian; perhaps from northern Sulawesi, he guessed.
‘Maaf
saya,'
he apologized in
Bahasa Indonesia
hoping this would resolve his predicament.
Not many expatriates spoke the language with any fluency, and Campbell was prepared for the
challenge.

‘I am not Indonesian,' she responded, obviously offended
by the suggestion.

‘Ouch! Sorry.' Campbell was now floundering, desperate to
recover lost ground. ‘It's just that I don't often meet many beautiful women outside of my own
domain.' Then a thought struck home. ‘You know my name?'

Sharon Ducay flashed a well-practised smile. ‘Yes,' she
answered, ‘and before you ask, I am from Manila.'

Campbell
remained confused. ‘I
know we haven't met before – I would definitely have remembered.' His confidence returning,
Campbell indicated her soiled dress. ‘It's hardly obvious now,' he suggested.

Without looking down Sharon placed one hand on her
abdomen.

‘It's still wet,' she replied,
matter-of-factly.

‘Do you still wish to change?'

‘Yes,' she said, looking towards the exit, preparing to
leave. ‘Will you accompany me?' Before Campbell could respond, she raised her hand and took his
forearm, then turned towards the exit and steered the way.

****

‘Help yourself to the bar,' Sharon glided through the
Regency Club suite, disrobing as she disappeared from view, her guest catching a brief glimpse of
her curvaceous lines. Campbell's room was in the other wing overlooking the swimming pool, the
disparity between the accommodations significant. The Hyatt's ‘hotel within a hotel' concept for
its more prominent guests providing lavish furnishings and butler service was a luxury he had yet
to afford.

‘Can I pour you something?' he called, his offer drawing a
silent response. Campbell checked the chilled wines and selected a
pinot noir
Chardonnay,
opening the bottle and pouring two glasses just as Sharon reappeared, dressed in slacks. She
accepted the Hungarian cased, crystal flute, sipped lightly, nodded her approval, then moved
towards the heavily draped windows and opened the curtains to peer outside.

It was early October, yet Christmas fervor had arrived in
earnest, with Singaporean traders already dressing Orchard Road's towering hotels with an
elaborate display of Christmas lights, and New Year greetings. Campbell remained standing at a
respectable distance admiring Sharon's figure as she stood framed by the window, the suite's soft
lighting, enhancing her features. She turned, the hand holding her wine resting in the palm of
the other, and smiled.

‘I observed you at the opening ceremony,' she said, her
voice carrying a huskiness not evident before. Campbell was surprised that he could have missed
her, even amongst the other four hundred delegates.

‘Obviously, I was preoccupied with the program otherwise I
would have noticed you, also.' The flattery not lost on Sharon, she placed her empty flute down
and lit a cigarette while Campbell refilled their glasses. ‘Have you had dinner?' he asked,
disappointed that she smoked, surprised that the habit was still tolerated in the Hyatt's
rooms.

‘No,' Sharon replied, ‘I always avoid function food. And
you?'

‘I could eat,' he hoped she would want to dine in. And
then, ‘But first, aren't you going to reveal how you knew my name?'

This was met with a playful laugh, Sharon anticipating the
question. ‘When I saw you at the opening ceremony, I asked,' she parried. In fact, Sharon Ducay
was well informed when it came to Stewart Campbell.

‘I wasn't aware that I was that popular,' he sensed there
was more to it, but decided to let it go. His exploits within the mining sector during the past
decade had raised his profile not just within Indonesian resource circles, but also regionally.
Stewart had represented a number of major, American international conglomerates and, although he
doubted that they had met before, nevertheless, he found something vaguely familiar about this
beautiful woman. ‘Perhaps you have confused me with someone else?'

Sharon
dropped the cigarette
in the ashtray, then raised her glass to offer a toast. ‘One thing I have never been accused of,
Stewart, is being confused. We'll talk later. Right now, I'm famished. Let's get out of here and
find something decent to eat. Cheers!'

Campbell
accepted the polite
rebuff, the resonance of two crystal glasses ringing as they touched.

****

On their way down in the lift they had discussed their
choices and preferences, Campbell suggesting a Chinese seafood restaurant he occasionally
frequented when in Singapore – Sharon had agreed, the taxi dropping them at the Excelsior Hotel
on Coleman Street. There, they caught a lift to the fourth level of the Shanghai Palace and were
seated within minutes. Campbell ordered, checking with his companion on each
selection.

‘You certainly know your way around Chinese food,' she
complimented, impressed with Campbell's choices.

They had started the meal with shark's fin soup mixed with
fish maw and crab meat, then attacked the fried, shredded-duck laced lightly with dried chili.
Sharon raised her bowl and skillfully scooped steamed rice into her mouth. ‘Ah,' she sighed,
‘this is delicious!'

‘Leave room for the braised garoupa,' he warned, as the
waiter placed a dish of mushrooms and broccoli on their table.

‘You can eat raw chili?' she asked, surprised as Campbell
raised part of a green pepper with his chopsticks and placed the sliced chili in his
mouth.

‘Sure,' he laughed, following quickly with rice and fish,
the garoupa's strong taste coming through the black bean sauce. Then, from behind a napkin, ‘You
can't live in Indonesia for ten years without acquiring the taste.'

‘Have you ever visited the Philippines?' Sharon asked,
accepting the remaining piece of shredded duck into her bowl.

‘Just once,' he replied, ‘but only for a few days. I
didn't have the time to go sightseeing.'

‘Were you there for the mining conference?'

‘Yes,' Campbell recalled the brief visit. ‘Stayed in
Makati the whole time,' he added, referring to Manila's congested central business district. He
had not enjoyed the conference although the city's wealth of bars and nightclubs had offered some
compensation, remembering playing truant on the second day and missing most of the workshops held
by the Filipino Mines and Energy Ministry.

‘You should have taken some time off and visited the
resorts,' she admonished, ‘they are very beautiful.' Then, with a mirthless smile, ‘And so are
the women.'

Campbell
avoided the obvious
response. He knew little about her country and wished to turn the conversation. ‘Have you been to
Indonesia?'

‘Yes, I've been to Jakarta several times, on
business.'

Campbell
was genuinely
interested. ‘On business?' he asked.

‘Yes, on business,' she smiled mischievously.

Campbell
pressed on. ‘Are you
going to elaborate?'

Sharon
laughed, softly, and
placed a placatory hand on his knee. ‘We have something in common, Mister Campbell,' she teased,
then sipped the lukewarm Chinese herbal tea, her eyes never leaving Stewart's.

‘And that would be…?' he left the question
dangling.

‘We are both geologists,' she revealed, enjoying the look
of disbelief spreading across his handsome face. She dabbed her lips with a napkin before
continuing. ‘I went to Jakarta on a number of occasions to see if we could entice some of the
foreign mining companies to visit the Philippines. It would seem that Indonesia has more than its
fair share of foreign investment in the resources sector, and you know how damn difficult it is
to drag American companies away from their own shores.'

Campbell
, momentarily
overwhelmed, merely nodded.

‘A number of Filipino concession holders teamed up to go
to Jakarta but, unfortunately, we were unsuccessful in convincing any of the larger miners to
slip across and examine our country's potential, while they were exploring in the general
area.'

‘It's a wonder we did not cross paths,' he told
her.

‘You were out of town at the time,' she suggested.
Campbell leaned back from the table and raised an eyebrow.

‘You checked?' he was puzzled.

‘We had our embassy try to set up a meeting with you,
Stewart, but you were out in the field for the duration of our stay.'

‘I was out of town during
both
visits?' he asked,
disbelievingly.

‘Yes,' she nodded.

Campbell
shook his head
slowly. ‘When was this?'

Sharon
answered, without
hesitation. ‘May and October, 1991.'

Campbell
recalled both months;
he had, indeed, been out on survey during Sharon's visits. ‘Well, that explains your knowing my
name,' he said, thoughtfully. ‘Do you plan to return in the near future?'

‘It's unlikely, Stewart. My country is not one of the most
desired destinations amongst the mining fraternity. As long as Indonesian discoveries monopolize
resource investment dollars I'm afraid the Philippines will continue to be neglected.'

Stewart knew what Sharon had suggested was entirely true.
The Philippines was a low priority in terms of Asian mineral, oil and gas exploration. On the
other hand, Indonesia's mining boom continued to attract substantial investment, leaving other
South East Asian nations in the shadows. There had been some initial interest in Vietnam but
communist dogma continued to prevail throughout most of Indochina, making the area less than
attractive as petty bureaucrats continued to dictate policy at provincial levels.

‘Where did you study?' he wanted to know.

‘California State,' she revealed, somewhat indifferently.
‘I traveled for a while, worked in South Africa for three years before accepting a position with
a Filipino group. I completed post-grad work for my Masters after that. And you?'

Campbell
was not surprised to
learn that she was so well educated. The woman was obviously intelligent and determined. He found
himself staring at her again, thinking that she had it all; beauty, intelligence and was well
connected. ‘Washington State.'

‘And then?'

Campbell
considered the
question. After graduating, he had gone on to work with the Canadian-based INCO (International
Nickel Company) because of its dominance as a nickel producer in the international market. He had
spent his post-graduate years in Canada and, for some time, remained content with his lot. He was
then sent to South America for six months where he was assigned to assist Professor Herman von
Hugel. The revered scientist's recommendations led to Campbell being offered an opportunity to
work in Indonesia where INCO had secured a major deposit in Sulawesi during the early 1970s, and
was considering copper and gold deposits elsewhere throughout the archipelago. Stewart had hoped
that INCO's fascination with Indonesia would provide him with a springboard for other
opportunities, however, local rationalization caused him to re-evaluate his career prospects,
precipitating his leap into private consulting. The rest was history. He had become a respected
Indonesian mining consultant, his services now in regular demand. ‘I've kept myself busy,' he
said, modestly. It was now obvious that Sharon Ducay had prior knowledge of his credentials.
‘Would you like to expand upon why your group wanted to make contact with me?'

Sharon
's response was not
what he had expected. ‘We were exploring the possibility of engaging your services as a
consultant, in the Philippines,' she explained.

‘Why?' he said, taken aback. ‘I know virtually nothing
about your country's geology, let alone its mining policies.'

‘The approach was not biased in that direction,' Sharon
suggested. ‘We needed to attract consultants with the capacity to interest the major players in
our country's potential. Your name came up, that's all.'

Campbell
thought this through.
‘Did you find anyone?' he asked.

‘Well, we met a number of expatriates who appeared keen,
but none that were convincing.'