Borneo Pulp

by John Francis Kinsella

It was a Friday afternoon, the last rays of sunshine shone through the edges of the heavy dark clouds on the horizon. Ennis sat in the large rattan armchair that he had grown to like on the veranda of the house on Cluny Road. The weather had felt heavier and more humid than usual after several days of heavy rain, in all it was the depressing end to a very depressing week.

  He had spent the afternoon waiting for Axelmann’s call, which was beginning to seem like it would never come. He turned his beer slowly in his hand and examined in a melancholically the condensation that formed on the glass, he was feeling deeply dejected. Since the death of Sutrawan things had gone from bad to worse, Barito now seemed to be on the point of collapse.

  What was more disturbing to Ennis was that Axelmann’s attitude had taken a subtle turn for the worse with the latest disaster, as though he had given up hope and was directing his interests to his own personal needs. They jointly supervised the funds that had been placed on deposit in four Singaporean banks. Ennis had begun to suspect that Axelmann had been making plans for the future of the money that excluded him. It looked as though Axelmann was slowly but surely distancing himself from Ennis.

  There had been no distinct signs; Axelmann had outwardly behaved as though there was nothing unusual. It was more a feeling of an almost imperceptible falling off in the confidence, if not friendship, which had developed between them both since Ennis had joined the Papcon team.

  Ennis wondered if he was not being a little bit paranoid, but his experience told him to trust his feelings, there was no doubt that he was being subtly avoided, not only by Axelmann but other people seemed to be perceptibly taking their distance from him.

  He concluded that in the very close future some difficult decisions would have to be made, or he would be pushed to out as new faces manoeuvred into place in the struggle to succeed Brodzski, and more than likely with the help of Axelmann. He deeply resented the feeling of betrayal; he did not understand how Axelmann could go back on his unspoken word. Yes, for Ennis in a strange way he felt it was a question of friendship and trust. He himself would never have gone against the mutual respect that formed the basis of their cooperation, even if at that moment he had no tangible reasons for suspecting that Axelmann had.

  He turned over in his mind the options open to Axelmann. He tried to fathom out what his interest was in siding with his Parisian banker friends, perhaps he was making a deal with Lamerte. Brodzski was no longer capable of making any decisions, Sutrawan was dead and Hakkala in a much weakened position.

  It would have been so much simpler if Axelmann had been straightforward, an arrangement could have been found to suit them both.

  Vague ideas began to take shape in his mind for a plan to pre-empt Axelmann. Maybe he could transfer the money to a safe place where Axelmann could not dispose of it at will, that would be difficult, he had no justifiable reason to do that and Axelmann would be informed almost immediately of the details of any transactions.

  He tried to figure out ways of moving the money to Zurich and then to a series of other offshore accounts, but Axelmann would certainly be able to easily trace the movements; it would be difficult to simply disappear with the money. His considered using his own personal account at Swiss Credit as a starting point, he had already used the account in transmitting commissions on several previous occasions. It would be quite simple to give instructions to the different banks where funds were held, transferring them to Zurich and then moving the money out to a temporary account in some suitable bank.

  Whatever action Ennis took, he would be immediately suspected, as only he apart from Axelmann, now that Brodzski was incapacitated, had the authority to issue instructions to the banks

  He could only inform his bank in Zurich to expect funds on a short-term basis, and move then transfer them to another account on receipt of his instructions. In the meantime he was tormented by his total lack of control of the situation; his only course was to try to get to the bottom of things face to face with Axelmann. He was main the obstacle to resolving the dilemma.

  The ringing of the telephone startled him, he jumped up and went into his office through the French windows and picked up the phone, it was Axelmann calling from Sydney.

  ‘John?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Hello, I didn’t recognise your voice, can you hear me okay.’

  ‘Yeah, no problem, you’re still in Sydney?’

  ‘Melbourne, I’m just getting ready to leave.’

  ‘Okay, I’m booked on a flight to Jakarta at nine this evening.’

  ‘Is there something special then?’

  ‘Not really, I’m going to see Budiman tomorrow morning to sound him out on the situation, he’s off to Tokyo on Sunday for a week, so I’m stuck there for the weekend.’

  ‘Listen then, I’m on the overnight flight from Sydney this evening, it’s going through Denpasar, I was thinking of getting in a stopover of a couple of days sunshine before going on home, it’s been wet and cool here in Melbourne.’

  Ennis listened, he did not suggest anything, he would let Axelmann decide what he wanted to do, there was a pause.

  ‘Why don’t you meet me at the Bali Beach tomorrow evening or Sunday morning, I think we have a few things that we have to talk about.’

  The idea of going to Bali for the day was not his idea of fun, but it was essential if he wanted to meet Axelmann and thrash things out with him, before he got in too deeply with his friends back in Paris, he had little other choice.

  ‘Sunday morning will be fine,’ he replied.

  ‘Good, I’ll see you in the hotel.’

  Ennis arrived at the Bali Beach Hotel carrying a bag with his tennis racket and a few essentials, he had no intention of staying longer than necessary. He looked briefly around the lobby, it was ten in the morning and he had lost one hour, Bali was one time zone behind Jakarta. He saw that the hotel was quiet; the Australian winter season had just started, in another three weeks the hotel would be overflowing. He checked at the desk for Axelmann’s room number and called him on the house phone, he was not in his room. Ennis walked out to the pool, where he found him sunning himself on a chaise longue. Almost immediately he sensed that Axelmann seemed to be in some kind of a mood. He complained his flight had been delayed several hours and he had obviously not been getting the service that he had expected in the hotel.

  ‘What are we going to do this morning then!’

  ‘Let’s get in a game of tennis, I need to unwind,’ said Axelmann, then adding. ‘I haven’t had breakfast yet, let’s do that first.’

  He handed Ennis his room key, who took his bag to the room.

  It was almost twelve when they arrived at tennis courts, there were no players, just a couple of ball boys, who were lounging and passing the time under the shade of a large tree next to the changing rooms. Axelmann signed on and declined the services of the ball boys.

  The sun shone fiercely, it was not really the most advisable time of day for playing tennis, the weather was hot, exceptionally hot, even for Bali. Ennis suggested that perhaps they should wait until the sun was a little lower in the sky.

  Axelmann shrugged, making aggressive swipes with his racket, indicating that he was ready. As usual he attacked the ball as though he were in the final of a grand slam tournament. Ennis played defensive avoiding over exertion in the heat; it was the only possibility, since he could not avoid playing without upsetting him. It must have been 34°C and even hotter in the full sun, which was almost directly over their heads. After about thirty minutes play Ennis suggested that they take a pause, but Axelmann had the bit between his teeth. He continued volleying with all his force until he was almost dropping.

  ‘I’ve had enough,’ he said finally, picking up his towel, he signed the chit to his room and almost staggering, walked to a shady poolside corner and flopped down into one of the chaises longue. There were just two couples at the other end of the pool; it was lunch time and too hot for the few tourists staying at the hotel.r />
  They pulled off their tennis shoes and shirts. Axelmann looked around in an agitated kind of manner; the tennis had not the relaxing effect hoped for.

  ‘What are we going to do, have you got your swimming trunks?’

  Ennis nodded downwards to indicate he was wearing them.

  ‘Me too,’ said Axelmann, pulling off his tennis shorts.

  ‘Let’s walk down to the beach, I haven’t really seen what it’s like in this trou de macaque!’ said Axelmann standing up.

  Ennis half-heartedly followed him, it was about fifty or so metres to the beach, where parasols of woven palm leaves were aligned on the sand, which had been neatly raked, waiting in vain for the absent tourists. The beach was empty with the exception of an elderly attendant who observed them disinterestedly from a distance.

  They walked to the edge of the sea. Axelmann stopped and then taking a short run dived into the light waves and swam for a dozen or so yards, before returning to the beach.

  ‘That’s better, let’s take a walk along the beach,’ he made a sign towards the point in the distance at the end of the beach, which curved away to the east.

  They started walking; at the hotel perimeter the neatly raked beach gave way to more natural sand with low outcroppings of porous volcanic rock. The waters edge was lined with natural beach debris, seaweed, dead leaves, palm branches and the occasional coconut.

  Axelmann talked about generalities, he talked without getting to any specific point, and perhaps he was avoiding it. They had been walking for about thirty minutes or more and the hotel complex had shrunk into the distance behind them.

  He sat down on a small hillock of grass-covered sand that demarcated abruptly the limit of the water line and the vegetation. The beach was not wide, maybe fifteen or twenty metres.

  ‘Your friends look like they’ve deserted the ship, don’t they!’ said Axelmann suddenly.

  ‘What do you mean?’ said Ennis puzzled.

  ‘They’re not going to honour their contract... Suwondo and company.’

  ‘I think they will,’ replied Ennis calmly, though he doubted it.

  ‘No they won’t.’

  ‘Really!’

  ‘It’s finished anyway!’ said Axelmann raising his voice.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘The whole business was rubbish,’ he said angrily, ‘in any case I think you’re wrong.’

  ‘Hmm,’ muttered Ennis kicking at the sand.

  ‘Your partners were lousy anyway,’ retorted Axelmann.

  ‘Everybody seemed to think they were okay, it’s only you who says they were lousy partners.’

  ‘No they were just playing along to gain time, to build their own project.’

  ‘I can’t accept that.’

  ‘Too bad.’

  ‘Well what are we going to do anyway?’

  ‘Forget all of this.’

  ‘What about that Singapore money!’ Ennis blurted out.

  ‘That belongs to Papcon,” he said slowly.

  ‘No it belongs to Finntech!’

  ‘That’s what they think...but I suppose we could come to some arrangement…say five hundred thousand US.’

  Ennis was surprised, he had not expected a proposition, but it was evident that Axelmann did have other ideas about that money, and was prepared to make a deal.

  ‘That’s not much!’

  ‘Well I suppose we could double that.’

  ‘Who are we?

  ‘Are there any other matters,’ he said waving the question away.

  ‘It depends.’

  ‘Do you agree?’

  ‘Let me think about it.’

  ‘So it is a question of money,’ he said wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. ‘It’s too hot.’

  ‘Well it’s not the best time of the day to walk in the sun.’

  ‘When is the best time to walk then?’ he replied sarcastically and aggressively, thrusting his chin forward.

  Ennis did not reply.

  ‘Okay then, I’m going into the water to cool off.’

  He waded into the waves his arms raised in front of him, when the sea arrived at his crotch he plunged in and started to crawl, lifting his head every three or four strokes to breath, his arms rising and falling heavily.

  Ennis watched him, he felt depressed it was not going at all as he had hoped. Axelmann definitely had something on his mind, but he was holding back for the moment, as if he had needed to provoke an argument to get it out.

  He saw that Axelmann had stopped, he was waving to him and Ennis waved back without enthusiasm, Axelmann waved again. Fuck him, he thought, he was not in the mood to play, he listened to the waves and watched the coconut palms swaying slowly in the breeze, there was no other movement or noise apart from the occasional buzz of an insect.

  Axelmann started swimming back to the beach, it was several minutes before he staggered out of the water, gasping, he practically collapsed onto the white sand, just beyond the waves, and lay there.

  Ennis thought, serves him right he’s knackered. He lay there five minutes or so, as the sun dried the seawater off his back and then picking himself up he painfully made his way towards Ennis.

  ‘I don’t feel too good,’ he groaned.

  Ennis shrugged then he replied, ‘Lie down for a bit in the shade, take it easy, it’s hot.’

  Axelmann moved into the shade by a thicket of short palms, he flopped down. Ennis looked at him, he had worked himself into a real state, overdoing it. He stood up in disgust and walked towards the warm sea feeling the rough hot sand under his feet; it was his turn to cool off. He would have preferred the pool it was cleaner, at least it felt so, he didn’t like the sand and imagined strange fish and sea creatures lurking in the shallow water. He did not feel the freshness he had hoped for in the sea and he soon felt the heat of the sun on the crown of his head.

  Returning to the beach he glanced over at Axelmann. He was asleep face down on the sand, he left him alone, he was obviously in need of a rest. The thoughts of what he would tell him ran through his head as he lay drying off in the heat, the salt made a prickling sensation as though his skin was tightening over his body.

  The time passed and he started to doze under the shade of a palm. When he looked at his watch again he saw to his surprise that it was already after three, it was time to start thinking about making a move back.

  He turned his head and glanced over at Axelmann, he saw his mouth open in a lewd kind of way, he lifted himself onto one elbow and looked again leaning forward, as if to get a closer look, he was startled at what he thought he saw, it seemed as though was a swarm of flies were buzzing around Axelmann’s head. He stood up abruptly and took a couple of steps forward; he could now clearly see numerous flies near his head, there were even flies on his lips.

  As he looked closer he saw Axelmann’s face was twisted as in pain and was a very deep red colour, it was not sunburn, he was very still, his left hand lay contorted under his chest.

  Ennis suddenly felt cold, he shivered, he put his hand on Axelmann’s arm and pushed, there was no reaction, he pushed again harder, and then with both hands.

  My God! he thought as he pushed again.

  He felt for his pulse, nothing, he felt a wave of shock, he sat down looking at Axelmann. He stood up, his immediate thought was to run to the hotel for help, it was at least twenty or even more minutes away, but he could not leave him like that.

  He checked again as if he was perhaps mistaken, he had not seen many dead bodies before, but there was no doubt Axelmann not breathing, he was dead and very dead!

  Ennis was no doctor, but he knew that Axelmann had had a massive heart attack. There was nothing to be done. He had been dead for nearly half an hour.

  He sat down again, he could not believe it, he was filled with guilt, he had not been pleased with the recent turn of events, but he would have never wished for that.

  He sat thinking for several minutes and his thoughts inexora
bly turned to the finality of the situation, it was finished, finished he repeated to himself, years of efforts gone on this beach, there was no way he put it all together again. He had known already deep down when Sutrawan had died that it was finished, but he had hung on in the hope, there was no other choice, he had to follow Brodzski. His hopes fell then rose again after Brodzski’s stroke, he could have continued with Axelmann, but he had other ideas, now he was gone, dead, nothing would ever be as it was before.

  He lifted Axelmann’s arm, it was heavier than he could have imagined, he looked around him, nothing else had changed, the only thing he could see apart from the trees was the hotel in the distance.

  An idea took form in his head and mechanically without thinking he removed Axelmann’s watch and medallion, his ring was more difficult, he spat on the finger for lubrication. With an almost premeditated thoroughness he turned down Axelmann’s shorts and looked at the label Made in Australia, he checked if there were any pockets, nothing.

  He then pushed his way into the thick undergrowth, inspecting it for a likely spot, returning to the body he grasped both arms by the wrists and drawing them over Axelmann’s head he pulled, he was heavy, very heavy, it required a great effort, the transpiration poured off his arms and chest. In a backwards movement he dragged the body towards the undergrowth and pushing aside the plants and branches, he pulled Axelmann into the dense vegetation. He turned the body over face up and then stepped back, letting the plants to spring back into place, with a few deft movements he arranged the branches so that the body was completely covered. He looked carefully at the undergrowth, nothing was visible, it looked like any other part of the three kilometres or so of beach back to the hotel.

  He was breathing heavily after his efforts as he smoothed the patches of sand carefully with a fallen palm branch that had been disturbed by their presence, then swept away the traces made as he had dragged his body into the undergrowth.

  He looked up and down the beach, nobody, and turning towards the hotel he glanced back once more; nothing remained to show that they had been there.

  He walked into the sea and then slide into the water and swam slowly in the direction of the hotel, after about a hundred yards he came out of the water and continued, keeping close to the vegetation walking very slowly so as not to attract any attention, keeping to the rocks so as not to leave any footprints, he noted that there were no traces of their earlier passage. At the halfway point he threw Axelmann’s watch as far as possible into the sea and then at further intervals he then threw the ring and medallion into the undergrowth.

  Once he was back at the hotel pool he saw nothing had changed, maybe there were one or two couples more, he picked up the rackets slipped on his trainers and the room key that Axelmann had left inside his racket cover. He took the towels discretely rolled them around Axelmann’s shorts and trainers and then walking slowly returned to the room, in a wing that was a separated from pool by a group of bushes and flower beds. He was relieved that he did not need to pass through the central reception area.

  He opened the room door and put the ‘Do not disturb’ sign outside and then closed the door with the security lock.

  He sat in one of the armchairs and looked at the bed working out his plan. It was necessary to move quickly, to leave the hotel as soon as possible. He picked up Axelmann’s bag and looked inside; his wallet was there together with his flight ticket and passport, there was also fold of travellers checks. He looked inside the wallet; there were the usual credit cards, drivers licence, identity card and the rest. Scattered around the room were some reading matter, a toilet bag, and a few other items.

  He opened his passport, the date of issue was some twelve months previous, in his picture he wore glasses, his favourite Ray Ban style, his hair was relatively long, he was suntanned giving the photo a sombre tone. He was two years younger than Ennis. Instinctively he went to the writing table and took out his own passport which he had left in the room with his own affairs on his arrival, he looked at his own picture, it was a fact that he looked slightly older, though the difference was not so great, especially if it were an Indonesian was looking at the photo. Axelmann’s eyes were blue, his were grey green, his hair was blond, and his own was prematurely grey. Ennis’ height was 1.78 metres his was 1.81 metres, he replaced his passport on the writing table, what difference did it make, he was dead ... dead! He could not absorb the reality of it, but nothing could change it.

  It was just after five, Axelmann was booked onto the 11.15 flight to Singapore and then to Paris the next day. He then carefully checked the room for any trace of his presence, there was nothing in the drawers or the waste paper bin, he then looked at his own papers, no record of his arriving apart from his own plane ticket, there was no trace of their meeting. He unpacked Axelmann’s suitcase and then repacked it being very careful to check every single item for name labels and papers bearing Axelmann’s name. There were names tags on his clothing and papers that he put to one side with his own affairs, which he then packed into his own overnight bag.

  He calmly took a shower and dressed, putting on the white slacks that Axelmann had worn that morning and his black silk shirt, before leaving the room he slipped on Axelmann’s Ray Bans and checked the signature of the travellers checks, it would not be the first time the he had copied the signature, signing in his place.

  He looked around the room once more and took a towel, which lay across the divan, wiping the furniture, just in case, to remove his fingerprints. For an instant he thought that maybe he had been reading too many novels. He left the bags inside the door.

  He then opened the room door, looked up and down the corridor making sure he was not seen leaving the room, then carefully closing the door and leaving the sign Do not Disturb carefully in place. He then proceeded to the reception area; at that time of the afternoon most guests were in their rooms or the bars cooling off, there was little movement.

  Discretely he crossed the lobby his head down looking at the floor to avoid any eye contact with the persons he crossed. He left his bags with the bellboy. At the cashier’s desk he asked for the bill, which was efficiently printed out and handed over to Ennis with a formal disinterested smile, he pretended to examine it and then presented Axelmann’s credit card, signed the Amexco slip and the cashier gave him his copy in an envelope.

  As he turned around he saw the bellboy with his bags.

  ‘Taxi Sir?’ he said.

  Ennis nodded and made his way towards the hotel entrance.

  ‘Mr Axelmann, Mr Axelmann!’ His heart jumped and he turned slowly.

  It was the cashier: ‘Your credit card Sir’

  Ennis sighed with relief and took the credit card with a nervous smile.

  He arrived in Singapore a little after midnight local time, the airport was busy as usual with night flights, he joined a long queue at the immigration control, which was absorbed with the usual Singaporean efficiency. With the crowd the passport controller was more concerned with the landing card he had filled in than his appearance. He picked up the bags and then took a taxi to the Orchid hotel which was convenient for the business area of the city and far enough from Cluny Road.

  The next morning was Monday. He made a series of rapid visits to the four banks where they held accounts and gave instructions to transfer almost all of the funds in each account to the Swiss Credit bank in Zurich, there was no problem, he used Axelmann’s signature, and he presented Axelmann’s passport in each case as identity to the young Singaporean Chinese bank officer, who simply checked the name, with a mere glance at the photo.

  The same evening he flew with Swissair to Zurich arriving at six thirty the next morning, where he went through passport control. He had been worried that the Swiss would be more thorough in inspecting the passport, but at that early hour there was no more than a perfunctory glance at a European passport.

  He proceeded to baggage claims carrying his own hand baggage, collected Axelmann’s bag from the c
arousel, and after carefully removing the flight tag deposited it in the left luggage office, he had no intention of collecting it.

  It was still early, he walked over to the departures building and took a coffee and waited for the airline offices to open. He then booked a one-way flight to Dublin on Aer Lingus in the name of Patrick Ryan for two o’clock that same afternoon, after which he took a taxi to the Swiss Credit Bank in Bahnhof Strasse, in the downtown area of Zurich.

  At the banks reception desk he requested his contact person, Mr Stamm, a very stiff Swiss, who handled the account that Ennis held with the bank. There were no names simply numbers, ensuring his full anonymity. He was informed that his account had been credited with the funds transferred from Singapore the previous day. He then gave his order for the totality of the sum to be transferred, on their receipt of his instruction, to the bank and account named therein. His order would be transmitted to them by telefax with necessary instructions within the next two days. Once the transfer had been carried that account would be closed.

  The flight arrived at dusk over Dublin Bay, to the left was the Black Mountains and on the right hand side the wintry lights of Dublin. The plane was buffeted by the wind that always seems to be blowing on the flight path down to the International Airport. He presented the French passport and was waved through without any further formalities.

  At the tourist information he made a reservation at the Conrad Hotel, where it seemed there was no particular rush in spite of the cut rates being offered during the winter season. He then took a taxi to the hotel, which was just off Shaftsbury Square in the city centre.

  BACK IN PARIS