Treacherous Journey Through the Philippines

By Peter Robinson

This novel was previously published under the title MY STORY IN THE PHILIPPINES IN FIRST PERSON, which proved to be an awkward title and was rightfully criticized. So I decided to republish the story under a new, more appropriate name, TREACHEROUS JOURNEY THROUGH THE PHILIPPINES, but only after thoroughly editing the wording of the text. Because the story line was recognized as being interesting and flowing, nothing else was changed except for my adding sketches at critical sections.
My wife, Nelle, encouraged me to write a novel but passed away in 1992. She always wanted to help. The book may have suffered because she was unable to contribute her clear language. She always contended that in writing fiction, she could invent a story as interesting as one that occurred in real life. I believed her. She certainly was an entertaining conversationalist and had a lighthearted, devilish way of concocting a yarn.
The plot for TREACHEROUS takes you to locations actually visited by the author. However, the characters and events are fictional. Larry Bulger is not meant to be Peter Robinson. Larry Bulger jumped headlong into treacherous circumstances. Peter Robinsons nature would be to circumvent the dangers presented by adversaries in the story. Perhaps Larry was a person Peter would like to be.
The historical facts, such as Japanese General Yamashita pillaging Southeast Asia for treasure during WWII and hiding portions of the loot in the Philippines, are true but twisted somewhat for the convenience of the plot.
The corruption of the Marcos regime is based on commonly repeated rumors that were prevalent at the time.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Sep 30, 2013
• ISBN: 9781483698823

Peter Robinson

One of the world’s most popular and acclaimed writers, Peter Robinson was the bestselling, award-winning author of the DCI Banks series. He also wrote two short-story collections and three stand-alone novels, which combined have sold more than ten million copies around the world. Among his many honors and prizes were the Edgar Award, the CWA (UK) Dagger in the Library Award, and the Swedish Crime Writers’ Academy Martin Beck Award.

Book preview

Copyright © 2013 by Peter Robinson.

Illustrations by Marvin Paracuelles

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Rev. date: 09/27/2013

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Contents

Dedication

Foreword

1. Leaving Philadelphia

2. Arriving In Manila

3. Learning The Ropes In Mabini

4. Itineraries

5. Reconnaissance In Mindoro And Edith Is A Revelation

6. A Different Aspect To Edith

7. Discovering A Cavern

8. Back To Manila: Paperwork And Planning Ahead

9. Finding Out What Is In The Cave

10. We Became Proficient In Organizing Notes

11. Next Trip Is To Mindanao

12. Edith Leaves And Agnes Joins The Team

13. Being A Tourist In Manila

14. Personal Reflections

15. Tess Is What She Is: I Could Expect No More

16. Tess Is Dead: Her Funeral Mass

17. Getting To Know Ann And Frank

18. More About Agnes

19. Visiting Edith At Her New Job

20. To Dumaguete And Meeting The Civic Club

21. Dinner At The Civic Club

22. Agnes Makes Everyone’s Fun

23. Agnes Is A Really Good Person

24. Frank Visits Negros As A Merchant

25. Ann Is Also Here

26. Treasure Could Be Buried At Grave Sites

27. Landowner Suspicious Of Team’s Activities

28. Nestor Comes To Dumaguete

29. Mario Murdered And I Suspect Nestor

30. I Could Be The Next Victim

31. Escape To Mamburao And On To Manila

32. Defenseless Against Ann’s Intrigue

33. Back To Dumaguete To Confront My Adversaries

34. Captain Ortiz Is In Charge

35. I Would Attend The Tuesday-Night Dinner

36. Agnes Is Shot But Lives

37. I Meet Agnes’s Parents

38. Learning Details Of The Attack

39. I Say Good-Bye To Agnes

40. What About Edith ?

41. Why Was I Even Involved?

42. Alfredo Wants To Help

43. I Play A Trick In Bacolod

44. They Duped Me

45. I Continue The Chase

46. On To Panglao After Ann And Nestor

47. Ann Again Tries To Kill Me

48. The Conspiracy Unfolds

49. I Cannot Win, So I Agree To Terms

50. Winding Down: Agnes Marries

51. Back To Chicago, Marry Joan, Return To Philippines

52. Joan Is Kidnapped

53. I Follow Joan’s Trail To Basilan Island

54. I Seek The Bishop’s Help

55. I Also Seek Help From Ann Campbell

56. I Next Visit The Town Of Lamitan

57. I Follow Her Into The Hills And Meet Padre Bauer

58. Joan Is Delivered To Me As Promised

59. We Stay In Isabela At Hotel Fernando

60. I Succumb To Ann’s Wiles

61. Captured By Muldur

62. I Kill Frank Campbell

63. I Kill George Miller

64. My Wife Approves, Why?

DEDICATION

My daughter, Lori Hartman, read and commented on all the versions throughout the development of the book. That was a serious labor.

My granddaughter, Theresa Robinson, contributed the sketches.

My sister-in-law, Phyllis Robinson, found misspelled words that were too tricky for the rest of us.

Long ago, my wife, Nelle, encouraged me to write a book based on my travels; her confidence in my ability gave me the impetus to devote the time and effort necessary for this project.

FOREWORD

This novel was previously published under the title MY STORY IN THE PHILIPPINES IN FIRST PERSON, which proved to be an awkward title and was rightfully criticized. So I decided to republish the story under a new, more appropriate name, TREACHEROUS JOURNEY THROUGH THE PHILIPPINES, but only after thoroughly editing the wording of the text. Because the story line was recognized as being interesting and flowing, nothing else was changed except for my adding sketches at critical sections.

My wife, Nelle, encouraged me to write a novel but passed away in 1992. She always wanted to help. The book may have suffered because she was unable to contribute her clear language. She always contended that in writing fiction, she could invent a story as interesting as one that occurred in real life. I believed her. She certainly was an entertaining conversationalist and had a lighthearted, devilish way of concocting a yarn.

The plot for TREACHEROUS takes you to locations actually visited by the author. However, the characters and events are fictional. Larry Bulger is not meant to be Peter Robinson. Larry Bulger jumped headlong into treacherous circumstances. Peter Robinson’s nature would be to circumvent the dangers presented by adversaries in the story. Perhaps Larry was a person Peter would like to be.

The historical facts, such as Japanese General Yamashita pillaging Southeast Asia for treasure during WWII and hiding portions of the loot in the Philippines, are true but twisted somewhat for the convenience of the plot.

The corruption of the Marcos regime is based on commonly repeated rumors that were prevalent at the time.

1

LEAVING PHILADELPHIA

I awakened Monday morning from an uneasy sleep. The neighborhood was almost serene. Its quiet belied the setting, a short distance from a major city. Faint sounds of forlorn whistles and foghorns from ship traffic could be heard ten miles to the east on the Delaware River. These noises were complemented by the clatter of an occasional freight train interrupting the incessant hum of insects embedded in shrubbery that lined fronts of houses. For a moment, I pondered how one could feel so alone at this time of day. Shortly, a cacophony of sound would erupt as local denizens entered the streets on their daily commute to work, instilling the neighborhood with the bustling character of a row-house community with multitudes of people busy in daily activities that provided for the exigencies of life. This routine never changed, and the physical appearance of homes only changed with individual ornamentation implanted through the years by residents. The neighborhood defined the life that I had known until this day.

Suddenly, I heard the polite beeping of a car horn outside the house and was concerned that it was the taxi I had scheduled arriving early. I was relieved to hear the car drive away. Now, there was time to complete last-minute tasks associated with the overseas trip I was about to take. After shaving and showering, I dressed in clothes that I had laid out the previous night. I then checked my airline ticket to make sure it was securely in the envelope with other travel documents. I would carry the most essential items in a leather pouch strapped around my waist.

I had been restless throughout the previous day, pondering my future working for a large international engineering firm in the Philippines. I signed a contract with an initial four-year commitment and an option for an extension based on my performance and project needs. The difficulty of the work was of little concern. I had confidence bordering on arrogance honed by a history of superior performance on engineering projects in the States. But the thought of separation from familiar surroundings and having only sporadic association with family and friends made me question the wisdom of my decision to accept the contract.

My name is Larry Bulger: thirty years old and born and raised in West Philadelphia. My family and Catholic-school education was an incubus for staid moralistic views of the world that forever affected my concept of sin and conscience and the many reflexive reactions to life’s continual demand for making decisions in response to uncontrollable events.

In some aspects of life, I bordered on being a prude. This is not to say I didn’t react strongly to prurient impulses with women. In this respect, I could be labeled an opportunist.

However, with respect to honesty regarding money, material accomplishments, and relating stories affecting myself or others, I was truthful to the point of being boring.

So this was my nature. Among my saving graces in forming personal relationships were better-than-average physical appearance and fitness. I had no trouble attracting women, and my innate reliability held me in good stead with coworkers.

Even two years in the army, served entirely in the States as a draftee, were uneventful. My upbringing and limited experience with worldly affairs set the stage for the events that lay ahead. Now, I was about to embark on what I anticipated to be my first true adventure to a strange and exotic land. During the previous week, I had said good-bye to everyone with which I had a close relationship. And this morning—Monday, April 3, 1963—there remained only to wait for a cab and go directly to the airport. Once again I reviewed my schedule. Initially, I flew to Chicago, then I changed flights on Northwest Airlines to Tokyo. From there, the final leg would take me to Manila. The total duration was estimated to be twenty-eight hours. As time grew near, I could not dismiss a gnawing apprehension even though, as a professional, I did realize the opportunity offered by the new position. I would now be employed by Richardson, Schellinberger, and Haas, Inc., a firm with over 2,500 employees working on federal, state, and local projects within the USA and other projects scattered throughout Asia and the Middle East. I had certainly decided on being a small cog in a big wheel but was with visions of rising rapidly to the top. I had submitted a résumé and application in response to an advertisement in an engineering journal. Initially, RSHI responded that my application had been given serious consideration. However, they selected a man who had equal technical qualifications but more applicable overseas experience. I accepted the rejection because the explanation was completely understandable. Then within two weeks, I received another letter saying the selected applicant was unable to go to the Philippines, and with no further explanation, they offered me the position. I did not hesitate to accept and frantically got my affairs in order so I could leave on the specified date. Now, here I was arriving at the Philadelphia Airport, ready to depart.

After boarding the initial flight, I found myself seated next to a middle-aged Filipino, Nestor Gomez. We greeted each other and exchanged innocuous, routine personnel data, such as our names, where we were from, where we were going, and the purpose for the trip. Mr. Gomez was returning to teach archaeology at a large Manila university after a sabbatical of two years, during which he earned a PhD from the University of Pennsylvania. Like many men in his profession, Mr. Gomez spent many hours in strenuous physical work. He was short, about five feet six, with a stocky muscularity that could not be hidden by his tailored suit. He conducted himself with an easy, cordial manner and proved to have an in-depth knowledge of a broad array of subjects. We engaged in discussions about American sports, recent wars, and American and Philippine politics.

Nestor seemed willing to hold what was, for the most part, a monologue in which he conveyed views on subjects for which I had only cursory knowledge and, at that moment, little interest.

It would be a mistake to consider my apparent shallowness in world affairs and political events as a lack of intelligence. On the contrary, I always had excellent grades at all levels in school. But my nature was to concentrate on the task at hand, sacrificing other aspects of life that I considered unnecessary nuisances at the time and that only served to complicate the immediate task.

I had over two hours to kill in the Chicago Airport: enough time to order a burger and fries at a vending area before departing on my next flight. When I finished eating my snack, I glanced through a sports section of the Chicago Tribune that had been left on my table. I then proceeded to board the plane taking me to Tokyo, looking forward to sitting beside someone less talkative than Nestor. A pretty woman would be a good choice.

But I was surprised and somewhat irritated to learn Mr. Gomez had arranged to sit next to me. Again, the conversation rambled. While I wanted to sleep, the talkative nature of my new friend allowed no pause that afforded me a rest period.

I became lost in my own thoughts about upcoming events in Manila when I realized Nestor’s conversation had transitioned to a subject that piqued my interest. Mr. Gomez described how senior Japanese officers had stolen much of the Philippine and Indonesian national treasures comprising precious metals, jewelry, art, and artifacts.

After the war, intense searches resulted in the recovery of minor portions of the loot.

Thereafter, undocumented rumors were circulated regarding the whereabouts of the remaining riches.

Ever since reading The Gold-Bug by Edgar Alan Poe in school, I had been fascinated by lost treasure and the puzzles that were sometimes associated with its discovery. Now I became completely absorbed in the historical descriptions of events regarding riches that were being revealed to me for the first time. Mr. Gomez obviously took special interest in the subject, which he apparently had researched in his capacity as a professor of archaeology. He seemed intent on imparting his knowledge to me for some reason. General Tomoyuki Yamashita, known as the Tiger of Malaya, was principally responsible for absconding with items of value from all the nations he entered with the conquering Japanese Army. He transported his collected treasure to storage locations for safekeeping. It was to be used for financing military operations of the Japanese Empire. Subsequently, the general was tried as a war criminal for atrocities and quickly hanged