The Mystery of Yamashita's Map

by James McKenzie

  ‘And what does it want you to do professor? What is it leading you on to do?’

  ‘It wants me to open the door, open the door in the wall. It’s an old wooden slatted door that looks as though it has not been opened for decades. I reach out my hand and I can see that it’s shaking. My fingers touch the door knob and I turn it . . . but then I usually wake up. I feel, though, I just feel as though I’m being called somewhere, that something is asking me to follow it, that something is pulling me somewhere.’

  Joe was silent for a while. He sat with his hands in his lap looking at the professor.

  ‘What would you say,’ he said finally, ‘If I told you that

  I had exactly the same dream and exactly the same feelings?’

  The professor stared at him. ‘I’d say you were lying, Joe. Either that or we are both mad.’

  ‘Well, we must both be crazy, professor, because I’m not lying and I have exactly the same dream virtually every night, right down to the feel of the tunnel roof above my head.’

  The professor got up and crossed over to the window. He looked down into the street below and thought he saw, just for a brief second, the figure of a man disappear before his eyes. One moment he was there, the next he was gone. He checked himself and reasoned that the night and the light play tricks on the eye when one is tired and afraid and he put the thought out of his head.

  ‘What does it mean, professor?’

  ‘I wish I could tell you, Joe, but I have no idea myself.’

  ‘You don’t think it has anything to do with this treasure, do you?’

  The professor laughed. ‘Joe, I am a man of science, I can’t believe in such nonsense stories.’

  Joe looked at him hard. ‘What are your real feelings?’

  ‘My real feelings are that we are both being told something by someone or something and all we need to do is listen and they will make sure we come out of it alive. Are you going to fly us?’

  Joe thought. His mind was a whirl of different emotions and images, there were so many practical reasons why he should not do this stupid trip, why he should just pack up now and go: walk out of the door and never look back. However, there was the matter of the two guys who wanted to dance the fandango on his face and the police who were investigating him. There was also the opportunity of making some real money if this thing were to come off. He had heard about Yamashita’s gold, had also heard that it was a myth put about by the Philippine government to ensure that a steady stream of suckers would come knocking at their door looking for treasure. They survived on kickbacks and shady licences from your average workaday American now that the drug trade was gradually losing favour.

  He thought of his plane. If nothing else this would get him flying again. He hadn’t flown for a number of months now and he missed it. He never thought he would say it but he actually missed being up in the air out of the way of everyone on the street who wanted him dead. He was never a romantic but, in the air, you were free, not quite as a bird perhaps, but freer than anything that walked on two legs on the ground. If this whole stupid trip came to nothing in the Philippines then he could always get his wings back and, as his father used to say to him, a man’s wings are his best friend.

  Joe stared hard at the professor and held out his hand. ‘OK, professor, you got yourself a pilot.’

  The two men shook hands. The door burst open and Lisa fell through it, rushing over to hug her uncle and then Joe. The professor stared intently at her. ‘I do hope you weren’t listening,’ he said to Lisa.

  ‘Do you want sugar in your tea, uncle?’ she replied.

  Later that evening they sat around the table discussing the plan.

  ‘Of course,’ said Joe, ‘The main problem is how we get a plane to take us over there?’

  ‘I told you. We hire one,’ Lisa replied.

  Joe shook his head. ‘To be brutally honest with you it might not be that easy. You see in order for us to be able to hire a plane I need to be insured and, well, since, I have had problems with the aviation authorities over here – well, they haven’t exactly been my best friends.’

  ‘Have you actually got a licence?’

  Joe rubbed the back of his head. ‘Well, that all depends on what you call a licence.’

  ‘Usually it means a bit of paper that says you can fly a plane.’

  ‘Oh, yeah, well, I have one of those.’

  ‘Good, so what’s the problem?’

  ‘Well, it was kind of . . .’ Joe paused for a moment, ‘Taken momentarily, due to an unfortunate incident with a few kilograms of heroin. I mean, I’m still legal, technically, I just don’t have the bit of paper to prove it. The police do.’

  ‘Great!’ Fraser said, and slammed his hands on the table. ‘Where the hell did we get this guy?’

  Joe looked at him angrily. ‘Look, do you want to fly the plane yourself, buddy? I know what this looks like but I didn’t know what I was carrying and I have suffered since, right? Now, when we’re out of Hong Kong air space, none of this matters any more. All I need to do is take off and we are virtually there.’

  ‘So how do we get a plane?’ Lisa asked.

  ‘Well, I’ve been thinking about that,’ Joe answered. ‘I say we just take my one.’

  The group were stunned.

  ‘Yeah, we try to bribe the guard they have at the airfield. You know what Hong Kong cops are, right? We just waltz in, flash some money and take my plane right out of there.’

  ‘Just like that?’ asked Fraser.

  ‘Yes, just like that. Have you any better ideas?’

  Fraser was quiet. He didn’t have any better ideas, just a gut feeling that this was one of the worst ones he had heard in a long time.

  ‘So when do we go?’ Joe asked.

  Lisa shrugged. ‘Uncle?’

  ‘We have all we need,’ the professor said. ‘Next week?’

  There was silence for a while as each of them contemplated what they were about to do.

  ‘We need things, uncle,’ said Lisa. ‘Provisions, permits maybe, and we need to organise food and tools.’

  Her uncle waved her concerns away. ‘Yes, yes, I am sure you and Fraser can sort all of that out. You are excellent at logistics. Me, I need to decide what we need in terms of texts, books, maps, and so on. It would be best, I think, to be in and out as quickly as possible.’

  Fraser started to speak. ‘How do we know what part of the Philippines to start looking in? I mean it’s a vast area and the map only shows local landmarks. We could theoretically be flying over Philippine airspace for months before we even saw anything that was remotely like the features on the map.’

  ‘He’s right, uncle,’ said Lisa. ‘Anderson was sure we would recognise the features once we flew over them but how do we even know we’re in the right area?’

  The professor thought for a moment. ‘I’m thinking,’ he said, with his lips pursed. ‘I’m thinking.’

  The other three looked at him. They watched as his skin became a little damper and his temples became a little redder. He closed his eyes and sat down squarely on the bed for what seemed like hours. Then, suddenly, as if waking from a dream, his face lit up with a smile, he got up from the bed and shuffled, quickly out of the door. A moment later he came back with a book in his hand.

  ‘I found this in the library last week, when you were researching the Japanese military, Lisa. It is a history of the army, written at the end of the war by a Dutchman of all things, Van Broek. It details that there was heavy fighting with the US army in the last months of war, especially on Mindanao and the islands around Mindanao. Here, here is the part: ‘The US army dedicated hundreds of men to pursue the Japanese army through the jungles of Mindanao. After three weeks of continuous attrition, many of those left alive were taken prisoner, relieved that they might be given rations and a dry bed again.’ There it is on page 67.’

  Lisa continued reading, ‘Filipino soldiers had reported lots of activity in the Baguio City area on the main island o
f Luzon where Japanese troops were seen conducting some kind of excavations.’

  The room was silent. Finally Fraser spoke up, ‘Professor, this is very interesting but I do not see how it helps our cause.’

  The professor looked stunned. ‘You do not see? You do not see?’

  ‘I don’t see it either, professor,’ Joe said. ‘What’s it got to do with us?’

  The professor sighed. ‘The islands around Mindanao. What interest had they for the Americans? Why did they pick these tiny islands among all the others to conduct a three-week war of attrition? They didn’t spend much time in Baguio. They must have suspected, no, they must have known that the gold was buried in, or near Mindanao. They were flying all over the Philippines at this point. I have no doubt in my mind that they would have sent a reconnaissance plane over that area to see what was going on.’

  ‘Yes, but they wouldn’t have found much out in the jungle . . . without a map. That’s it, uncle that must be it.’

  Fraser was unsure. ‘Well, yes, I can see it’s a lead anyway.’

  ‘You’re a genius professor, do you know that? A damned genius. You’re right, I know it. Right, when do we go? I wanna get my plane back in the air as quick as possible.’

  ‘Well, as Lisa said, Joe, there are still provisions to be got and things to be finalised.’

  The four of them moved to the living room and stood round the table. They looked at each other in awed silence, not knowing what to say or to do next. Outside, down the corridor someone waited for them to come out, someone who was all too human. He had a dark suit on that was splattered with blood – Anderson’s. He tapped his fingers on the wall and kicked at the ground while all the time keeping his eyes on the door and his mind on the job.

  Suddenly he felt a tap on his shoulder and when he turned his mouth was covered by a perfumed hand that was covered in gold rings. There was a whisper.

  ‘Shhhhhh! Kono, you fool, it’s me, Tanaka.’

  Kono relaxed and the hand was taken away from his mouth.

  ‘When did they go in there?’

  ‘About an hour ago.’

  ‘Have you listened at the door?’

  ‘No, I thought it best to stay here and wait for them.’

  Tanaka patted the other man on the cheek. ‘Good, good. I want them followed, you hear me, wherever they go. I want you to stick with them.’

  ‘You can count on me, boss.’

  ‘Good, good.’ Tanaka turned to leave.

  ‘Er . . . boss?’ Kono said.

  Tanaka sighed deeply and stopped. ‘Yes, what is it?’

  ‘You don’t believe in this, do you?’

  ‘In what?’

  ‘The gold? The buried gold?’

  Tanaka inched closer to Kono, who was twice his size. ‘Would I have got you to kill the girl if I didn’t believe in it?’ he said venomously, the corners of his mouth forming a snarl and his eyes staring right through Kono.

  ‘No, boss, no, you wouldn’t have.’

  Tanaka slapped Kono’s face. ‘You just keep your eyes open, yes? Leave the thinking and the believing to me. Don’t worry your ugly little head over it.’

  He turned and headed down the corridor. When he was sure he couldn’t see him any more Kono poked his tongue out at the back of his boss before turning around again to fix his eyes solidly on the door.

  Chapter Nine

  A match was struck in the darkness and lit up a cold, sinuous face. Slowly it was brought nearer to the cigarette that dangled from a pair of thin, white lips – it lit the cigarette, which glowed with a red warmth and fizzled as it was sucked upon, then it was shaken and thrown to the ground. A voice whispered: ‘Do you know that for every one of those you have, you lose five minutes of your life?’

  The man smoking just shrugged. ‘This life, I could do with losing a few minutes from it.’

  They had been waiting for over two hours already and they could feel their fingers growing numb and their legs starting to give way.

  ‘You sure he’s coming?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘How did you hear he was here?’

  ‘He’s been coming here for a week now. He’s hooked himself up with some girl and her uncle. Every day he comes here, spends a few hours in the apartment and then leaves. I’ve had someone follow him but he just spends the night mooching around, going from place to place, bars, clubs – the usual thing with him.’

  ‘He not sleeping anywhere now?’

  ‘No, just going to that apartment every day, leaving every night.’

  They stood in an alley facing the professor’s apartment, their expensive suits looking out of place in their tawdry surroundings. They had been tailing Joe for almost a week now and were ready to strike any minute. ‘You know the funny thing?’ the smoking man said to the other.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I think he’s being followed.’

  ‘Yes, by our guy.’

  ‘No, by someone else . . . look.’

  The other man looked and, sure enough, outside the apartment block stood Kono, reading a newspaper, trying not to look conspicuous but, doing so, looking as conspicuous as hell.

  ‘Who’s he?’

  ‘Don’t know, haven’t seen him before.’

  ‘Is he part of Yuen’s mob?’

  ‘No, I would have recognised him.’

  ‘Lee’s?’

  ‘No, I think he’s from out of town.’

  ‘You think it means anything?’

  ‘Yeah, I think it means our friend Joe is about to go somewhere.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘I have no idea. What’s that?’

  The two men were suddenly quiet and still as they saw four figures exiting the door at the bottom of the apartment block.

  ‘What are they carrying?’ the one said to the other.

  ‘Bags. They look heavy. Go and get the car. We’ll keep close, see where they go.’

  Over by the apartment block, Lisa was struggling with the bags. ‘Fraser, do you want to help me with this one?’

  Fraser screwed his forehead up. ‘Lisa, that’s your bag. If you really want to take all that rubbish, well, I think you should be responsible enough to carry it yourself.’

  Joe offered to help but was cut short by Fraser’s arm. ‘However, I can never bear to see a woman in distress,’ he said gallantly and picked up the bag, struggling under its weight. As they neared the pavement a cab pulled up with Joe’s cousin at the wheel. Quickly, they put the bags in the boot and clambered in. ‘To the airport,’ Lisa said, and they sped off. ‘The international airport?’ ‘No, the old airport at Kai Tak.’ Joe smiled at the thought of being re-united with his wings.

  The city streets were packed, even at this late hour. The neon signs buzzed and blinked in the darkness and the jaywalkers and street walkers cluttered the pavements like ants around honey. Lisa put her face up to the window of the car and watched the world go speeding by. Everything had happened so fast but she had butterflies in her stomach when she thought about what was about to happen. Her eyes moved slowly around the car and rested on Joe, who was busy in conversation with his cousin; they both talked in a frenetic manner, pointing at things, becoming excited, acting crazy. It was his craziness that she liked most. She had spent most of her life with academics, writers and thinkers. Now here she was face to face with a doer, someone who took life and experienced all of it – the joys and the pains.

  She liked the way Joe dived head first into everything he did: whatever it was he wrung the most out of it – danger, excitement, action, adventure. She hadn’t known him long but already she found herself being attracted by him – his easy manner and his sense of the unknown. Joe’s cousin suddenly addressed the car: ‘That blue Nissan’s back,’ he said, looking in his rear view mirror.

  ‘The one that was tailing you before, professor.’ Joe’s cousin craned his neck as he drove. ‘And you can call me crazy but . . . I think there’s someone following that!’

  Joe lo
oked round. ‘Ah!’ he said, guiltily. ‘I think the black Merc might be my fault.’

  ‘Your fault? What do you mean your fault?’ Fraser asked. ‘Well, you know those guys in the club?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘They have been tailing me for a week now. I thought I might shake them off but it looks like they stuck.’ Lisa looked out of the rear window just in time to feel her head bang against the door jamb as Joe’s cousin sped off into the night. The screech of tyre on tarmac was almost deafening as the cab was thrown this way and that in order to lose the two cars that followed it. It headed down a side street and along by the docks, knocking baskets off into the harbour and causing people to sprawl on the ground; everywhere it went, the blue Nissan and the black Mercedes stuck to it like glue and followed its every move.