The Golden Griffin: A Historical Romance of Mystery and Deception

By Joe Conceicao

Burmese Griffin is a historical novel that moves from the present to medieval Myanmar. It was in the 16th Century that Portuguese fighters became a powerful influence over rulers in Myanmars Rakhine region. The name of one leader which stood out among these Portuguese buccaneers was that of Felipe de Brito. He had amassed treasure in the form of jewellery and jade, as well as priceless ancient icons. He was executed by a victorious Myanmar King by being impaled on a spear, for his blasphemous activity. One of which was to steal a huge sacred bell from Myanmars most sacred Pagoda! What happened to de Britos treasure?

The scene moves to the present day. Tony Carvalhos misadventures in life are depicted to show his navet. But it is his wife, Jeanne de Mello, who is chosen to probe the whereabouts of the hidden treasure. For it is discovered that she was a descendant of Felipe de Brito. Myanmar experts, with an experience of the latest of knowledge of psychiatry, would combine with Buddhist exponents of meditation, to induce Jeanne to enter into a dream state. Jeanne would, in such condition, be enabled to reach out to her ancestor. She would thus learn where the treasure had been secreted.

Events did not turn out exactly as planned. But the denouement was a destructive surprise for criminal elements in and from Singapore as well as partially satisfying astonishment for the Generals in Myanmar.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Partridge Publishing Singapore
• Release date: Dec 5, 2012
• ISBN: 9781482892277

Joe Conceicao

Joe Conceicao taught in school and later headed a university continuing education department. He served as member of Parliament and ambassador in Moscow (twice) and in Jakarta and Canberra. At eighty-eight, he has published five books, in retirement, and has a few more computer-stored.

Book preview

2

A different Chronicle

W hen such drama was beginning to unfold, Tony Carvalho was waiting at the airport, about to board the plane to take him to London and Manchester. He expected to spend one academic year at Manchester University in England. At about the same time, in an incidental but quite different scenario, Jessie Tang had just finished taking her stroll along Beach Road. It was discordant, or it could be an integral part of life’s story, that Tony had met Jessie briefly at the University, about a year before this. On that past occasion he did register only the slightest flash of brief unease, a feeling springing from something he could not exactly name. It did not even surface sufficiently for him to dismiss it.

3

Tony’s love story and what

caused the end

A stroll along the road, and a walk up a gangway _ one would not imagine that in Tony’s life such fortuitous happenings could be connected. But odd Fate or Tony’s own at times whimsical character seemed to have decreed for Tony a varied and even stormy life. Just choosing to start with one very affective episode in the story of Tony’s being would find that Tony had actually fallen hard for Therese. So he decided to confront Therese’s mother and ask for Therese’s hand in marriage. He thought that would be the noble thing to do.

Tony did not realize that such age of chivalry had passed away. He had actually gone to Aunty Blaise’s home to ask her if he could marry her daughter, Therese. This was the kind of sudden, thoughtless and naïve thing Tony would do. It resulted in Blaise giving Tony the cruelest brush-off, snub or unexpected rebuff he ever experienced in his life. Blaise was cool.

Blaise was like a personification of poise. Blaise was always well-dressed with face carefully made up as if professionally to enhance her appearance. And her hair was also attended to by expert hands. Indeed Blaise, who loved reading classical novels, complaisantly compared herself to a haughty lady in the Jane Austen novel, Pride and Prejudice.

But Blaise also seemed habitually restless. Seated in her favourite chair she would always lean back, carefully propping up a cushion behind her to keep her spinal vertebrae in good structural balance.

Blaise’s armchair was plain leather, but deeply upholstered. Instead of armrests it had two ‘wings’ on either side which would allow Blaise to rest her head whenever she wanted to. She imagined that she would otherwise seem to lose her poise if she had to sit too deeply in the armchair. She had specially chosen its make to be sure that she would be able to get up easily and with dignity from sitting to standing position.

Thus she would be in control of action around her. When she was comfortably seated she would keep looking casually around from a book she might be reading. Occasionally as well, she would be glancing up and down the room. She operated her radar as if she had to always know what was going on. She had also prepared herself to face Tony. News had filtered to her that he was coming to see her on intimate business.

Tony had to discover sadly that he was no match for the authoritarian Aunty Blaise Sequiera. Tony had a simple nature and open disposition. Blaise seemed composed, but this really only hid her aggressively challenging nature. Tony finally found her out to be of dire disposition. When she determined to be such, he would be just a weak reed shaken by the blast of her personality.

4

Love’s poignant beginning

T ony had known that Therese was attracted to him but was simply too scared to show it. But it happened that Therese’s father invited a few of his daughters’ friends to a seaside bungalow in Pasir Panjang. Pasir Panjang could be literally translated as Long Beach. One of Mr. Sequiera’s business colleagues had offered the beach-side, resort home to him for the weekend. While the others gamboled on the beach and in the water, Tony and Therese had a lot of time for themselves. And they made use of it.

Perhaps it was the romantically rousing effect of the barmy breezes which at that season wafted over Singapore’s west coast from Indonesia. Again it could have been the subtly pungent aroma from the leaves of the limau purut (kaffir lime) plants scattered around the bungalow. Very likely a combination of both. Old Blaise had observed all, but in her calm, collected way decided apparently to bide her time. Control was never out of Blaise’s reach. She reminded one of a snake playing with a sparrow.

Unaware that Blaise had been secretly watching them, Tony decided on a daring step. He would take the bull by the horns. Tony much later mused that if he had given the matter more serious thought, he would not have associated any ordinary farmyard bull with Blaise’s disposition. Hers would require a comparison with those mythological creatures that had bronze hooves and fiery breaths. Tony’s simple-minded outlook would just have to find this out, that he was about to deal with a Minotaur.

Aunty Blaise had erstwhile welcomed Tony in her haughty, quietly superior way and distant manner of hospitality, whenever he visited her home. Tony had not the psychological equipment to peer into what sort of character Blaise was. She would herself engage him in conversation. About yourself, Tony, wasn’t your mother Gracie Rozells? Blaise would smile indulgently, at Tony’s answer. And your father, wasn’t he Norman Carvalho? Tony was puzzled by Blaise’s line of questioning. His basically simple mind would not fathom any underlying motive in Blaise’s questioning.

Tony was not the only one who would go to Blaise’s home. A couple of Tony’s cousins would, and also some friends. So Tony was not quite prepared for the radioactive flashes she levelled at him, when he went to ask Blaise if he could call on her daughter Therese. He could not realize that to declare such hope would radically alter the relationship between him and Aunty Blaise.

Aunty Blaise and Tony seated themselves in her sitting room. Blaise was comfortably ensconced in her favourite armchair. Tony only used the edge of his. Aunty Blaise spoke sibilantly, What you are asking is something simply out of the question. It was a categorical, hope-blasting response. It was not what Tony expected. I thought she would reply with a demurral, he said to himself. I could live with a ‘go away, come again another day’.

Blaise carefully analysed Jeff’s shortcomings, like an entomologist dissecting an insect. You’re only a teacher, Tony. Blaise was proud that her daughter had found a job as private secretary to a bank manager. Blaise continued, And how long have you been one since you passed out of training? And wasn’t your mother well-known for being quarrelsome. And your father? Did he not die quite young?

From the very beginning of her cross-examination poor, simple Tony had to exercise painful and puzzled resolve not to cry out in agony. Your father was a sick man, wasn’t he? He died rather young, poor man, Blaise murmured with hypocritical pity, after dealing a blow below the belt. Jeff felt sick with her insinuation that he did not fulfill the conditions to marry her daughter. His dismay for a time robbed him of speech.

Blaise’s offensiveness was overwhelming. For a moment Tony was cast into a mesmerised stupor resulting from a sort of hypnotic effect of her downright, insulting rebuff. An observer would be forgiven for thinking that Tony had fallen into a meditative state. Such a watcher would be awfully wrong. Tony must have felt like a snake’s victim unable to move before the baleful glare of its oppressor. Having sunk her teeth firm in the flesh, Blaise proceeded to inject the serpent’s poison.

You were a sort of prisoner of war in Bahau, weren’t you? That must have had a bad effect on your health. Indeed the British forces returning after Japan’s defeat had described Bahau as an internment camp; so miserable had been the health condition of the occupants, wasted by malaria and tropical disease.

D’you think you’ve quite recovered from all your deprivation during the Japanese occupation, Blaise asked in the chatty tone she adopted when she really wanted merely to hide her sarcasm behind seeming kindliness. You didn’t finish your studies at Raffles College—it was because of ill-health, wasn’t it? She had prised information out of Tony during previous interrogation. Tony now realized why Blaise used to smile superciliously at his answers to what amounted to her effort at Preliminary Intelligence Gathering (PInG).

I don’t think you can go very far, Tony. I’m sure there are more suitable girls for you than my Therese. Aunty Blaise summed up her verdict ‘not likely to score’ on Tony and apparently also on the more suitable girls. Having delivered the final, almost crippling broadside, Blaise sailed off waving a kerchief as if signaling victory. Tony felt as if his perilously floating morale had received a direct hit from a torpedo, and in temporary danger of doing a fatal nosedive.

5

Tony’s dream

T he blasting that Tony received from Aunty Blaise made him groggy in a way he had never felt in his whole life. In a way of speaking, it seared his very soul. That night Tony had a very restless sleep. In fact he had a nightmare. Although he slept alone in his own bedroom, his mother who was in an adjoining room could hear Tony crying out in fear in his sleep.

Tony was dreaming that he had fallen into some underworld region. This nether realm was a bleak and dark desert populated by thousands of slithering snakes. These frightening serpents did not pay any attention to Tony. They seemed to coil themselves in adoring posture to one human figure. This was a female form which had three heads facing different directions; and several hands as though dancing. Each hand held a different deadly looking weapon. One grasped an ornate but sharp spear. Another held a shiny kris. A third brandished a formidable sword. The strange feminine figure smiled and approached a fearful Tony. It was then that Tony screamed and woke up.

He woke up to a feeling of relief, and recovered quickly from his bad dream. He thought of Aunty Blaise, decided that she had been the inspiration for his nightmare. He felt despondent but made up his mind to resist her will.

6

Defiance

T he experience with Aunty Blaise, at her castle-like home, left Tony deeply dejected for only a while. But the effect of balmy south-west monsoon breezes was lasting, as against morbid restlessness at night. He decided to carry on the battle outside, in the open country, beyond the reach of the formidable Blaise.

Tony had always found the sympathy of Therese’s cousin, Jeanne de Mello, of about the same age as Therese, comforting and supportive. Here was an undercover agent at hand, he thought. Tony easily persuaded Jeanne to smuggle love-letters to Therese. Jeanne opened one of them, out of curiosity. I have to know what I am going to be involved in, she declared when Tony protested.

I must share your confidence, or rather confidences, insisted Therese’s cousin. Jeanne was young, and at just past twenty still had her own romantic mind. On the other hand, she had the same inclination to control people as her aunt Blaise, though on a smaller scale. She had at one time loved reading Mills and Boon romance novels. It was really for the fun she got out of the fateful movement of the characters in them.

Jeanne would graduate to reading more serious stuff, like history and mythology. She was particularly interested in mythology. But she took for granted the good or creative deities, whether of Egypt, Babylon or Greece. She was more captivated by the powerful-looking Hindu figure of the goddess Durga. She regarded with admiration such a figure with its many arms holding powerful weapons. Such a figure would also be triumphantly riding a tiger or elephant. Jeanne, although a faithful Christian, would see Durga as a smiling figure of feminine power, a symbol of protection against evil.

Jeanne would look upon the story Tony related as one drama, she thought, being enacted before her very eyes and presence and involving people she knew. Jeanne was not intending to miss any of the action, and this exposed one side of her nature. But the pathetic happenings to Tony invoked Jeanne’s sense of protection. Tony was somebody out of this world, Jeanne thought. He had made a pompous declaration.

Well, I’m warning you I am going to express my feelings openly. I don’t want to offend your maidenly sensitivity. Jeanne raised supercilious eyebrows. She looked disgustedly at Tony.

Thus was started Jeanne in a role as love apostle. At first she delightedly savoured to herself some of the phrases in Tony’s letters. But her reading also soon evoked some compassion, or was it pity? The feelings were derived from her own inner self. Jeanne at first felt it was worth suspending her interest in history to watch what she regarded as Tony’s escapades. But as a little time passed Jeanne became quite dispassionate as she read Tony’s letters one after the other. Soon she stopped reading anyway, and handed the later letters to Tony quietly.

7

Tony’s final frustration

I n the letters Tony made appointments, one by one, to meet Therese at a selected tryst. At first it was in a church. There were many in Singapore, not far from the office where Therese was working. There was also the Cinema, and Public Gardens, and even the Lakeside. Until Tony began to think that this sort of living was a normal part of his life. Therese was desperately and passionately in love. She was prepared to risk her job in finding time to meet Tony. And until one Saturday afternoon, Therese appeared unexpectedly at Tony’s home.

Her appearance gave Tony the impression that Therese seemed tense. She was apparently trying to suppress her tears. She repeatedly glanced woefully at Tony while sitting on the armchair next to him. Both were silent, she trying to control her feelings; while her quiet and dull behaviour perplexed him. The situation rendered Tony unable to think clearly.

Let us go upstairs to your room, Therese requested. Her tone was pleading, with peremptory overtones. Tony had never brought Therese upstairs to his room. He had no idea that she even knew he slept in a separate bedroom upstairs. Apparently, Tony thought, our mutual cousins must have gossiped with her about me. But he felt no indignation when he realized this. Therese’s behaviour raised some concern in Tony’s mind.

He led her upstairs to his bedroom. He was not bothered as he would normally have been to let her see the rumpled condition he generally left his bedroom in. Tony’s mother was the one who regularly put his room in order. As soon as Therese sat on Tony’s bed she broke into uncontrollable sobs. Jeff quickly sat next to Therese. She practically threw her arms round Jeff.

Take me, Tony; take me, you know what I mean. I love you. I want you now. Make love to me! Tony was also mildly surprised at a couple of explicit expressions Therese used. I suppose, he had time to think to himself, that even Convent girls have heard such words. In whatever light Tony’s friends might regard Tony’s reaction to the drama that was threatening to unfold in Tony’s room, Tony himself felt more a rising resentment against Blaise, Therese’s mother. He was sure she, she was the one behind Therese’s unhappiness and extremely upset condition.

Somehow Tony felt Therese’s expressions of love for him immensely compensated for the cruel way her mother had treated him. He put his arms around Therese’s shoulders and said soothingly, Dearest Therese, don’t let you mother upset you so. Calm down, and don’t let’s do something silly, just in order to get back on Blaise. Therese must have been surprised by Tony’s lukewarmness, but Tony was just that kind of person. Tony’s own misgivings induced Therese to calm down quickly. And she decided to go downstairs with Tony.

Therese’s conversation with Tony’s brothers and with his mother was desultory. After a brief while, her mind obviously distracted, Therese asked Tony to take her home. While they were traveling in the taxi it was not too clear in Tony’s mind how disoriented Therese was. Tony had little inkling of what the seeming uncertain adequacy of his passion for Therese would bring on.

Tony helped Therese alight from the taxi, for she seemed dazed and appeared emotionally exhausted. He walked his girl to the entrance-gate of her home. She snuggled against him the while they strolled. Tony felt confident of Therese’s love for him. She embraced him fiercely and turned to enter her home. Tony happily walked back to take a taxi home.

The next day Tony waited for Therese inside the church close to her work-place. He was shocked to see her appearance as she walked past the aisle, and as she passed Tony where he was kneeling at a pew. Prithee why so pale fond lover? came immediately to his mind. But he quickly recovered from any initial trivial mood he had when he first saw Therese. Any frivolous response he felt quickly dissipated when he took a second glance. Tony was that kind of person—to have an initial flippant response, and then to regret it immediately.

Therese not only looked pale, she also looked extremely forlorn. It was as if life held no real meaning for her. Indeed this could be a reflection of what she told Tony—in the few moments she was able to speak to him. She could not sit with him even for a little while. Her parents’ car was waiting for her—and the driver too. From now on the driver would watch over her, take her to office and back. There had been a terrible scene when she returned home and told them (her mother especially) that she had gone to see Tony in his home.

Blaise in particular had called Therese all sorts of names of which ‘shameless’ and ‘wanton’ were the least offensive. Her mother had to be stopped from slapping her by her father, who had been watching from