Indonesian Gold. Kerry B Collison

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СКАЧАТЬ about there, Phil,’ he responded, with warmth. The men had attended the same campus, their friendship often tested by professional considerations. It had been Samuels who had been instrumental in Campbell’s securing work with Baron Mining over the years, Stewart often acting as the other’s local consultant to the multinational.

      ‘Okay. I’m in Mina’s Restaurant,’ Samuels advised, just as Campbell’s driver pulled into the hotel’s driveway. Campbell hung up and then climbed out, nodding at the doorman who had opened the car’s door.

      ‘Selamat datang,Tuan,’ the attendant welcomed.

      ‘Selamat siang,’ Campbell responded, entering the Sahid Jaya Hotel with leisurely stride, waving at the barrage of beautiful Indonesian receptionists.

      ‘Hallo, Mister Stewart.’ One of the staff, a Menadonese girl who had dated the foreigner occasionally, smiled, emphasizing the ‘mister’ in playful manner. Campbell stopped for a few moments to exchange pleasantries, enjoying the customary banter.

      ‘Where’s your new girlfriend,Tuan?’ she challenged, hopefully, her body language obvious to all present.

      ‘Waiting at home with the others,’ he lied, enjoying the feigned looks of disgust and surprise as he wheeled and strode off towards the restaurant. The maitre d’ greeted Campbell warmly, escorting him to a corner table where his client waited.

      ‘Sorry I’m running a little late,’ he apologized, permitting the waiter to unfold his serviette and place this across his lap. ‘Usual traffic problems,’ he added, casting a glance around the magnificent décor. Mina’s specialized in Chinese seafood; the softly lit surrounds were decorated to resemble an outdoor, provincial fishing village. Fishing nets strung from a main mast pole centered amongst the buffet selections added to the ambience, whilst miniature, thatched roofs built above tables added the finishing touches.

      Campbell surveyed the clientele, acknowledging an occasional wave from some, ignoring others. In the far corner he spotted a group deep in conversation, recognizing two of the men as Alex Kremenchug and Eric Baird. Kremenchug spotted Campbell, the forced smile and raised-glass requiring Stewart to respond.

      ‘You know those guys?’ Samuels asked, glancing over his shoulder.

      ‘Sure,’ Campbell replied. ‘Permanent expats. Been around for years.’

      ‘And the one in the suit?’ Campbell glanced over again.

      ‘The one sitting facing the others?’ He took a brief moment to examine the man in question then shook his head. ‘No,’ he answered slowly and with some uncertainty. ‘Can’t say that I do.’ Again he glanced over at the tall, middle-aged foreigner whose cheeks were partially covered with long, untidy, gray sideburns. Then Campbell frowned – something triggered his memory suggesting that he had seen the face before. ‘I’m not sure.’ He glanced over again, then shook his head, ‘Should I?’

      Phil looked at Stewart with raised eyebrows. ‘I’m surprised,’ he said, fidgeting with the silver cutlery unconsciously. ‘Thought all you ‘geos’ knew each other.’ The statement required no answer but Campbell’s curiosity had been aroused.

      ‘Well?’ he pressed, annoyance creeping into his voice. ‘Who is it?’

      The other man smiled smugly, leaned back as the waiter reappeared and reset the cutlery. ‘It’s Christopher Fielding, for Chris-sakes,’ he revealed, sotto voce, watching for his consultant’s reaction. Campbell frowned again, snapped a quick look at the man then nodded, as if deep in thought.

      ‘Well, I’ll be...’ The words fell from his lips, softly, quite taken by surprise. ‘Now what would he be doing in Jakarta?’ he asked, rhetorically, his mind switching into gear as he recalled reading of the internationally renowned geologist’s recent skirmishes with the Canadian courts. He could not resist glancing over again, his eyes locking with Alex Kremenchug’s as he did so. Campbell smiled weakly and turned to his client. ‘Oh to be a fly on that wall,’ he suggested, lightly.

      ‘Who are the others?’ Samuels asked. Campbell shrugged his shoulders and sampled the mineral water as their attentive waiter withdrew.

      ‘The short one with the anemic complexion is Eric Baird. Been around since the mining boom started. He’s Australian. The tall guy with the permanent suntan and safari jacket is Alex Kremenchug. Not sure of his origins but is quite thick with Baird. They’ve had their fingers in a number of small mining ventures but nothing of any significance.’ Campbell hesitated before continuing, reluctant to give all. ‘Word is, Baird is not overly fond of the ladies, if you get my drift. He drinks far too much but knows his stuff. As for Kremenchug, he’s suave, intelligent, but bullshits about his credentials too much for me. Rumor has it that he was asked to resign a directorship in some Aussie mining firm for dumping his shares without advising the exchange. He left the country not long after that and appeared here, sniffing around for leases. His knowledge of geology is purely empiric. A couple of years back he encouraged a group to invest in an alluvial deposit in Sulawesi based on surveys carried out by that little guy sitting alongside him.’ Campbell nodded with a tilt of his head in Eric Baird’s direction. ‘I saw the initial sampling reports and later ran across one of the drillers who had worked on the survey. Kremenchug had given one of his drinking buddies the nod to build percussion rigs for the job.

      Of course, every time the hammer drove the pipe stem down, whatever gold may have been in the sample kept on falling to the bottom. There was very little recovered, Baird furious with Kremenchug at the time. The driller also revealed that they were pulled out of the field, and sent back to Jakarta. Seems that Kremenchug and Baird then used local tribesmen to complete the sampling procedures. The next thing we know is that the value of the foreign partner’s shares had multiplied fourfold, based on those results.’

      Samuels considered this and again lowered his voice. ‘Well, they’re in good company,’ a thin crease suggesting a smile crossed his lips, before breaking to a smirk. ‘Fielding’s broke,’ he claimed, breaking a hot bread roll in half. ‘After that ball-breaking wife of his had finished working him over there wasn’t much left to cover his debts.’ Campbell watched as his client smothered the bread rolls with peppered pate and stuffed these in mouth, sucking the ends of his fingers as he related events leading up to Fielding’s demise. ‘A receiver was appointed and, the way I heard it, he entered into some sort of arrangement with his creditors. Considering his finances, I’m surprised he’s over here. Who would ever have thought it possible? A guy discovers one of the greatest minerals finds in history and ends up with nothing! Just goes to show you…’

      ****

      Across the restaurant, Fielding leaned closer to his colleagues so as not to be overheard. ‘How much work-up will be required?’ he asked, pointedly, directing the question to Eric Baird. The Australian geologist had anticipated the question and was well prepared to defend the report.

      ‘Not a great deal,’ Baird replied. ‘I’ve walked the property extensively and the initial sampling results are very encouraging.’ Baird then went on discussing the geological aspects of the concession that both he and Kremenchug had offered the Canadian.

      ****

      Kremenchug sat back permitting the two geologists to communicate without any further input from him, pleased with Christopher Fielding’s response so far. Kremenchug was banking on Fielding’s international reputation as a geologist to raise capital for the venture. Kremenchug had paid the Canadian’s fares and related costs, bringing him over to Indonesia СКАЧАТЬ