The Husband Snatcher

It is surprising the distance sound travels in a remote places as I had discovered one day when I was out walking in the company of my assistant, Sergeant Arif of the Penang police force. Although our duties as crime fighters had taken us to almost every part of the idyllic island including beautiful Penang Hill which we had ascended by way of the hill railway, we had not actually climbed it. We set out to accomplish this one morning in June 1951 with the hope of walking to the top and celebrating our achievement with a lunch at the Crag Hotel that offered a magnificent view of Penang, one of the most beautiful holiday resort island in Malaysia.

Soon after we began our climb we realised what a relief it was to be away from the harsh noises of the town and to be treated to the songs of birds and the sounds of a variety of insects that lived in such gorgeous, natural splendour. We halted many times to listen and to fill our lungs with a peculiar but invigorating 'green scented' air of the jungle. We had been climbing leisurely for about an hour and had so far enjoyed every minute of this experienced. Sgt. Arif said to me, 'I don't know why we hadn't thought of doing this climb before. However, I am sure there will be many others in time to come, once we told them what a pleasant experience it is. 'Indeed. It's really something...' I began to say and stopped because a woman's loud and angry voice had shattered the tranquility of our surroundings.

Unaccustomed to the strange acoustics that nature provided in such an environment, it seemed as though the interruption came from somewhere quite close. Although we were unable to make out what the woman was saying, by catching a word here and there we were able to determine she was speaking English. Our 'instincts' as policemen told us to investigate further. After we had climbed for a couple of minutes in the direction from where the voice was coming, we were able to hear quite clearly what was being spoken. We heard the woman shout, 'Get out! Leave me alone!' 'I would like to talk to you but you're drunk!' a man's voice said. 'It's you who made me an alcoholic!' she shouted back. 'Put that knife away!' said the man and we heard the woman scream. 'You hit me! My lip is bleeding!' she screamed. we ran as fast as we could in the direction of the voices, hoping to get to the scene before something serious happened.


A minute later, a bungalow situated in a large and beautiful garden came into view and we increased our speed because we saw a rather attractive woman waving a meat chopper menacingly at a man who was apparently the cause of her distress. We also noticed there was blood around her mouth. Sgt. Arif who was younger and more athletic than me was able to wrest the chopper from the woman and as soon as she was disarmed, she burst into tears and ran a short distance before she fell. The man rushed up to us and I quickly informed him we were police officers. I showed him my identification card. 'I am Inspector Zain', I said 'and this is Sergeant Arif'. 'I can explain', he said, 'I am her husband'. Ignoring him, Sgt. Arif and I went to assist his wife. I got the smell of liquor on her breath. I quickly told her who we were and offered her a small towel from my haversack with which to wipe the blood from her lip.


'Arrest him! He came up here to kill me!' she screamed. I glanced at her husband. He was frowning with his hands buried inside the pockets of his trousers and staring blankly at the ground, slowly shaking his head from side to side. Tengku Hamidah, was in her late twenties and one of Penang's leading socialites. Her family was wealthy and distantly related to the royal family of one of the northern state of Malaysia. I recalled a newspaper article about her that was written on her return from England where she had spent the war years and attended a well known girls boarding school. Back home again, her vibrant personality and the fact that she had a good education made her instantly popular with 'progressive minded' woman. She was a talented horsewoman and tennis player. She was concerned with welfare work among underprivileged children and spent her free time  at the riding club where she had meet her husband Abdul Rahim. He was a tall, good looking man and a prominent polo player who was slightly older that her and the only son of a senior government official. They were married in a ceremony that was described as 'the wedding of the year'. That was three years ago.


Later that morning, after she had made herself presentable and appeared to have her emotions under control, she sat in a comfy cane chair on the veranda of her home sipping a cup of a black coffee. There was a small cut on her bottom lip. Her husband stood on the veranda staring at the rose bushes in the garden, deep in thought. Sgt. Arif and I sat facing his wife sipping glasses of iced tea. We had accepted the fact that our hopes of climbing to the top of Penang Hill were now very remote following the unexpected interruption. Tengku Hamidah looked steadily at me and said, 'I would be most grateful if you took no official action in this matter', her eyes suddenly filled with tears, 'Any publicity would bring unbearable shame to my family'. 


I had no intention to show interest in what was obviously a squabble between a husband and wife. I said, 'It's up to you, really. You could make a police report claiming you were assaulted. Your husband, the other hand, could make a report that you had threatened to attack him with a knife'. 'I am not going to do anything of the kind', said Abdul Rahim from where he was standing. 'Very well, I'm glad that's settled', I said and was about to take my leave with Sgt. Arif when she said, 'Please don't go. I would like police protection because I know my husband came here with the intention to kill me!' Glaring at him she said, 'That bitch sent you to kill me! Don't deny it! You're under her evil control!' Her husband turned to face us angrily, 'I am not going to listen to her lies and ridiculous accusations! Should you require me for anything, please get in touch'. He handed me his business card, ran down the veranda steps, jumped into the driving seat of a sport car parked in the driveway and roared away.


According to his card, he was a 'director' of a real estate company. Tengku Hamidah lit a cigarette and inhaled the smoke deeply. 'You must know who his lover is, of course?' she said to me. 'I don't', I replied. She raised her eyebrows, surprised. 'Everybody seems to know about his affair. It's been going on for the past six month's. She stubbed out her cigarette in an ashtray and stared at the ceiling with her large, black eyes. In a steady voice she said, 'I shall be most grateful if you would listen to what I have to tell you after which you could decide whether or not they are ridiculous accusations, as my husband would describe them'. I found myself in an awkward situation. I realised she was in need of someone to talk to about her problems and not wishing to further upset her, I reluctantly acceded to her request.


'I suppose you know all about our marriage? she said. 'It was on the front pages of the newspaper that said it was 'love at first sight' and that we were 'made for each other'. There were a thousand guest at our wedding and we spent a 'dream' honeymoon in Japan, never imagining for a moment that the 'dream' would turn into a nightmare!' There was bitterness in her voice and her pretty face soured slightly. 'Two years and seven months, that's how long it lasted!' she said. 'I saw her, his lover for the first time when she was among a group of spectators watching a match at the polo club in which my husband was playing. I had wondered who the beautiful young woman was. I watched her for some time and suddenly discovered her eyes were following my husband around the field and not the other players! I consoled myself with the thought that it was something to be expected since, besides being handsome, he was the best polo player in Penang. I had no idea she was a member of a dancing troupe that specialized in Malay classical dances that was going to perform at the club's anniversary dinner that night.


'My husband and I were among the large crowd of guest that included many well known Penang personalities to watch the performances by the troupe in which this most attractive young woman was the principal dancer. her gorgeous costume and make up made he look even more radiant than when i first saw her earlier that day. All eyes were focused on her also because of her graceful and expressive movements to the music. 'There was sustained applause at the end of the performance and as she was leaving the stage with the other dancers, I saw her look in the direction where my husband and I were seated. She was looking directly at him! and, then I saw her smile and I noticed he had a strange look in his eyes. I decided to ignore what I had seen. Perhaps I was over reacting. I told myself. But, there are certain signs that only a woman can detect in another's behavior towards a man that betrays her hidden feelings and I knew at once that she had her eyes on my husband!'


She lit another cigarette and continued, 'I had realized before we were married there was quite a few woman, including some whose husband were friends of ours and who were attracted to him. I suppose it was his good looks and charm, like those dashing heroes one sees in romantic Hollywood films. I knew he had been unfaithful to me a few times after we were married, but I was willing to overlook these quick 'flings' because I was deeply in love with him, as I believed he was with me. His problem was that he couldn't resist a pretty woman, although I must say that when we were alone he made me feel that there was no other woman in the world whom he loved! I was a queen and he was a slave!


'By pretending to everybody that I was happily married wasn't the best way to deal with the problem, but I found I had no alternative. I was afraid a confrontation with him would seriously affect our marriage and I was determined not to let that happen! It meant that I would be forced to conceal my feelings as best I could. I turned to drink, hoping that alcohol would dull the pain in my heart that was becoming more severe as the days passed. I had reached a stage where I doubted his sincerity to the extent that when he left home each morning I was unsure whether he was on his way to the office or to meet a secret lover! I was becoming paranoid'.  


Tengku Hamidah had so far recounted her unhappiness in a calm, steady voice but now her mood become aggressive. "He had always returned home after work or would call me on the phone to tell me he would be a little late if he was going to the club with some friends. But when he began returning late almost every night, I began to worry myself sick. He always had some excuse. One night I lost control of myself. I angrily confronted him and asked him if he was having an affair. He tried to laugh off my suspicions at first but when I persisted and demanded to know who the woman was, he became angry. We had a heated argument. He put some of his clothes into a travelling bag and drove away in his car. I was devastated but I decided I would face the problem alone. This happened about five months ago. It almost drove me out of my mind and that's when I began to drink heavily.


'He returned home after two days. During his absence and after some down to earth thinking, I accepted the fact that this could be the beginning of the end of our marriage. I was a fool in love and I was paying for my stupidity! I was being hurt badly and had a final stab in my heart was not going to make much difference to the pain I was already suffering! 'I had no idea at that time who the other young woman was until he returned home two days later. On seeing each other, we were both very calm. He came up to me and said, 'I think you should know i have fallen in love. Her name is Shuri. You have seen her once, I think. She was the leading dancer in the troupe that performed at the polo club's anniversary dinner. I am very sorry to have hurt your feelings. As difficult as it may be, please try and forgive me. I didn't expect this to happen'. 


'He went immediately to our bedroom and removed his belongings to a spare room. Shortly afterwards I saw him leaving the house carrying a suitcase. 'I was in a daze for some time after he left. When I regained my composure I decided to find out more about this woman. I was told she was living with my husband in an apartment beside the beach at Tanjung Bungah. She had arrived in Penang from southern Thailand with a group of dancers. She was of Thai-Malay parentage. That was all I was able to find out about her'. Tengku Hamidah paused to light a cigarette and said, 'I hope I haven't bored you, Inspector. The reason for me telling you all this is because I feel my life is in danger. I think she wants to kill me and is using my husband for that purpose!' I said, 'If matters are as bad as you have described them and if there isn't any hope of a reconciliation, perhaps it would be better to seek a divorce and settle the matter amicably'. 


She smiled. 'My husband wouldn't agree to a divorce because it would mean that my father would withdraw the money he had invested in my husband property company and influence the other investors to do the same! It could force my husband's company into bankruptcy. When my father came to hear about my husband's illicit love affair he phoned me and insisted that i divorced him right away, despite the bad publicity it would create in the newspapers. But how could I make my family suffer for my defiance and stupidity for marrying a man whom I had heard described as a playboy and a womanizer?' 


I thought she had come to the end of her story when she suddenly asked, 'Do you believe in black magic and that there are such things as sundal bolong and pontianaks?' I was taken aback by her question. Before I could reply she went on, 'Do you believe pontianaks can become human?' But before I could reply again, Sgt. Arif said, 'Oh yes! It's quite true!' I saw her eyes widen, 'Oh? What makes you say that?' 'It's because I have personal knowledge of such a case. It happened a couple of years ago.' 'How interesting! Please tell me about it.' I interrupt ed to ask her the reason why she had suddenly switched from telling us about her husband's affair, to the subject of pontianaks and witchcraft.


It's because some of my friends suspect my husband is the victim of black magic or it could be that this mysterious and beautiful dancer is a sundal bolong, since it is believed that these demons are semi human.' Sgt. Arif said, 'I remember a young and beautiful woman by the name of Yati. She appeared mysteriously one evening in my kampung many years ago and joined a group of women and girls who were bathing in the river. Nobody had seen her before. Since she was a newcomer, questions were asked about her but nobody was able to provide any answers. She lived in a hut near the jungle with an old woman whom she said was her guardian. Each morning she sold cakes made by the old woman.


'Yati's charm and beauty soon endeared her to the villagers and not long afterwards she married the son of the rich trader. In time to come she had a daughter who was named Biru and who grew up to be as beautiful as her mother. One day while Biru was combing Yati's tresses, she noticed a tiny lump at the back of her head. It turned out to be the head of a tiny nail which Biru immediately extracted. As soon as she had done so, she was shocked to see her mother transform into large, black bird. It had the wrinkled face of an old woman and long, sharp claws. Biru's startled cries brought her father to her side and he was just in time to see the creature flying out of the bedroom window! To prevent a scandal, Biru and her father decided not to tell anybody what had happened. Those who inquired about her mother's absence were informed that she had gone on a long journey to visit relatives in Borneo and wouldn't return for some time. So, the secret about Yati was kept for many years.


'However, one moonlit night while Biru was asleep, Yati appeared to her looking as beautiful as she was before. There were tears of joy as they were reunited. 'I have come to take you away to be with me because the time has come for us to share our lives together', she said to Biru. 'They disappeared in the moonlight and were not seen again'. Tengku Hamidah was deep in thought for a while after hearing Sgt. Arif's story. 'So, it was because Biru had removed the nail she found embedded in her mother's head that caused her to revert to being a pontianak?' Turning to me, she said, 'I have been having frightening dreams in which I see the face of this woman. She looks evil and I have a feeling she wants to harm or kill me!' I saw her hands tremble slightly as she lit another cigarette.


I said, 'I understand you are under a lot of stress but you must not allow your imagination to run wild.' Sgt. Arif and I decided there was nothing much else we could do to relieve her for her anxiety and decided to take our leave. She was most grateful for the interest we had shown. I gave her our phone numbers and told her to get in touch if we could be of any assistance. I felt sorry for her, a young, attractive and intelligent woman whose short married life was on the verge of being wrecked. Three years passed, during which time I had been away in England to study criminology. One day after my return, I read a newspaper report of Tengku Hamidah was going to hold a party for handicapped children at her home the following week.


Since we had not met her all this time, Sgt. Arif and I decided to pay her a visit. I phoned her and she was delighted to hear from me and invited us to her home. We sat on the veranda where three years before we had listened to the sad story of her broken marriage. But now we were pleased to see she was in a very much happier state of mind. 'You're looking extremely well and cheerful', I remarked. 'I managed to survive a terrible period of my life. It was a tough battle, but I won in the end! Maybe you both would like to hear about it?' 'Oh, indeed!' I said as Sgt. Arif and we sat back in our chairs. 'I had never believed in black magic, ghosts and demons', she began, 'but my friends told me my husband could be he victim of witchcraft, that's why he had left me for this other woman, the exotic dancer. I made a few inquiries and was given the name of a well known bomoh. He lived on an isolated stretch of beach on the northern side of the island that could only be reached on foot.


'I found his small house after much difficulty. When I knocked on his front door that afternoon, he opened it immediately as though he was expecting me. He was an old man with piercing eyes and before I could introduce myself and explain the reason for my visit, he said, 'You have arrived in time. Please come in.' 'Indicating a mat on the cement floor he said, 'Please sit down.' On the mat was a clay urn containing burning incense from which emerged a thin spiral of smoke. I was quite tired and thirsty having walked for almost two hours in the scorching sun while searching for his house. he offered me a refreshing glass of coconut juice.'


'He sat cross legged in front of me and shut his eyes, muttering incantations. Although it was a very hot day, what he said to me caused a cold shiver to run down my spine. 'She plans to kill you because she is afraid you will seek help to break the spell she has put on your husband! She fears he will return to you!' 'I was speechless! How did he know about her?' 'He sprinkled more incense over the hot coals in the clay urn and the small room was soon filled with smoke. He shut his eyes again and began to recite incantations. After some time he opened his eyes wide and pointing to the wall opposite him shouted, 'Look!'


'I saw the dark, evil face of my husband's lover pictured on the wall! She was smiling and her eyes were fixed on me! The next moment it disappeared. The bomoh chanted more incantations and after some time said to me, 'You shall have to be very brave if you wish to defeat this woman because she is a pontianak. Have you heard of pontianaks?' I was still in state of chock but I managed to say, 'A pontianak is supposed to be a half human demon who can appear as a beautiful woman or a black bird with a woman's hideous face and long claws'. 'I was in a cold sweat and I thought I was going to faint. I think he realized this and poured some water from a clay goblet into a cup, below on it three times, chanted some words and made me sip some. Amazingly, I felt immediately relieved.


'He went inside the house and returned holding a kris in an old wooden sheath that was wrapped in yellow cloth. He sat down again in front of me, the kris beside him. He looked steadily at me with his piercing eyes and said, 'I shall have to make you mentally strong very quickly1 There is no time to be lost because she intends to kill you tomorrow.' 'I felt suddenly sick in my stomach and I wanted to throw up.' 'You must do exactly as I say if you wish me to help you!' he said. 'You may have to spend the night here! My wife will attend you to your requirements.' 'Yes, of course! I will do anything you say!' I said nervously.


He got up and I saw him go outside into the small garden and stared at the sun and said, 'I have exactly twenty one hours to prepare you for the battle to save your life and your husband's!' 'At the mention of my husband, I held my breath momentarily. He noticed my reaction and said, 'Your husband is in her power! You may hate him for deserting you but I know you still love him despite his faults. If you are able to save his life he will become a devoted husband because he loves you', he said. 'Through my tears I saw him remove the yellow cloth covering the kris and with draw it from its sheath. He held it up in his right hand, then tip of the wavy blade pointing downwards. And, then something incredible happened. He released his hold on it and it floated in mid air, rising to the ceiling before it hovered in front of my face. 'Do not be afraid!' he said to me. 'Open your mouth and stick out your tongue!'


'As I did, I saw a drop of water emerge from the tip of the blade. It fell on to my tongue. It was boiling hot but turned icy cold the next second. Amazingly, the kris reentered its sheath without his help! I had remembered reading stories that certain kris had magical powers. Some were said to float on top water! I thought there were fairy tales until now!' she went on. 'Some of the stories said a kris could fly long distances at the command of its owner to kill an enemy! The blade of a kris could also be used to cure serious illnesses caused by witchcraft or suffered the bites of venomous snakes!' She paused to catch her breath before continuing.


'I spent the rest of that day and night at the bomoh's house going through a series of what he called 'cleansing rituals' in which I was assisted by his wife who is also a bomoh. The final test of what he called my 'inner strength' came at midnight after I was bathed with water scented by seven different kinds of flowers. I was taken into the garden and told to stand beneath a tall coconut tree. he said to me, 'When I command you to climb the tree, do so without hesitation! Do you understand?' As he said, 'Climb!' I began to walk, not climb, up the tree in the same way that I would walked normally and reached the top! He then commanded me to descend and I walked down as easily as I walked up the tree! It was quite amazing that I never had any of falling from the tree, although if I did, I would have been seriously injured or even killed myself! I suppose it was because the bomoh had helped me to conquer my fears and had created a powerful 'inner strength' within me!


'I was awakened before daybreak by the bomoh's wife the following morning. I bathed in water mixed with seven different kinds of flowers. He gave me a small bottle of red liquid and tied a talisman around my left arm. 'Return to your home and wait for her to visit you. She will come at midday and will be dressed like a beggar, carrying a basket of fruit for sale. her face will be hidden behind a veil. You will noticed that her body did not cast a shadow on the ground. She will try to sell you a papaya and will cut open the fruit with a knife, offering you a slice. Be careful, because she would have already smeared the blade of the knife with a mixture of honey and deadly poison made from the bark of the ipoh tree. It is a poison that Sakai and other aborigines dipped their blowpipe darts when hunting. You must insist that she shared the slice of papaya with you. She will try and avoid doing so since the poison from the knife would have been absorbed in the fruit. At the moment you must point a finger at her and shout; 'In the name of Allah the Compassionate, the Beneficent! I know who you are! You are Shuri the accursed whore of Satan! The pontianak! You have cast a spell on my husband and have come here to kill me by offering me fruit that you have poisoned!'


'The you must quickly take a sip of the liquid in the bottle i gave you! Spit in into her face! She will scream in agony because her face will instantly be covered in warts and wrinkles revealing her true age which is two hundred and fourteen! She will run from your house screaming and you shall never see her again! The same day, your husband will return to you!' Tengku Hamidah had come to the end of her story. 'Of course, everything happened exactly as the bomoh had predicted!' she said.


I had wanted to ask Tengku Hamidah about her husband when a chauffeur driven Mercedes came up the driveway. It stopped in front of the house and a tall, handsome man emerged from the rear door carrying a little boy. I recognized him immediately as her husband, although his hair had turned completely white. 'My husband has no recollection whatsoever of that woman!' she said to me quickly and I realized she was trying to tell me that we should not discuss the affair any further. I said, 'I understand. Case closed'. 'Thank you, Inspector', she said and ran up to kiss him and the child. 'This is my husband Rahim and our son, Aziz,' she announced happily as though we were meeting her husband for the first time. She told him we were 'old friends'. He shook our hands warmly and it was plain to see he had no recollection of having met us previously.


Before we left he invited us to visit the greenhouse where he kept his prize winning orchids. He took particular pride in showing us a gorgeous yellow hybrid he had named 'Hamidah' after his wife.

Death Of A 'Samurai'

One of the many 'legacies' of British' colonial rule in Malaya, Borneo and Sarawak were pleasant, government-run establishments known as 'rest houses' that were constructed and fully equipped by the empire-builders of the British East India Company based in Calcutta after they had 'annexed' these territories. 'Rest houses' played an important role in the functions of the British colonial administration and in some ways provided guest with a temporary 'home away from home'. As one former governor of the Straits Settlements had remarked, ' It is vital that British government officers kept cool heads at all times in the heat and humidity and are made to feel as comfortable as possible'. 

'Rest houses' were spacious bungalows of simple design with usually four mosquito-proof 'single' bedrooms and two 'double' bedrooms for families, comfortable beds and cots for children, cupboards, wardrobes and writing desks. high ceiling of asbestos, bathrooms with walls of white glaze tiles, large cements cisterns of water drawn from wells, formidable commodes known also as 'thrones' or 'thunder-boxes' of teak, 'extra-soft texture' toilet paper that would have satisfied the most fastidious user and 'old English' lavender-scented soap. Almost everything needed to equip a 'rest house' was imported from England including decorative brass oil lamps of genuine Indian design that were of English manufacture. All 'rest houses' had tennis courts with cement surfaces to allow use even during the rainy monsoon season. 'Plenty of exercise and plenty of whisky helps to keep malaria away' was a popular joke since the majority of tuans and mems (as their wives were called) were known to place their trust in whisky more than in tennis. Besides the courts were garden with variety of shade trees and flowering plants. There were well-stock bars and English beer in 'ice boxes, large, metal-lined, airtight wooden cabinets with shelves for usually wrapped in a 'gunny sack' or covered with a thick layer of sawdust to delay melting, the precious ice having been transported from a town by rail, river or borne by porters through the jungle before reaching its destination.

Dining tables were covered with starched damask tablecloths and rolled serviettes were neatly placed in silver 'ring' beside sparkling 'tumblers' of seamless glass for drinking water; silver-plated cutlery and crockery of Victorian design, decorative water-filters and the punkah that had its origin in India. It was a large sheet of cloth suspended from the ceiling by a rectangular wooden frame and operated by ropes and pulleys by a punkawallah, a punkah 'coolie' who caused the contraption to move forward and backwards by pulling the ropes. It supplied pleasant wafts of breeze. There was also a library room stocked with well-thumbed works of Shakespeare, Tennyson, de Maupassant, Chekhov and Austen, Doyle, Wodehouse, Conrad and Maugham and a host of lesser-known authors as well as outdated copies of British magazines and newspapers. Chinese 'boys' (as written of any age were known) served the tables in starched white cotton jackets and trousers. They spoke a smattering of English, their mispronunciation of word providing much amusement for their English guests. Chinese cooks who had been trained in European-run hotels to prepare English 'favourites' such as ox-tail soup, roast beef, fish and chips, shepherd's pie and Yorkshire pudding, provided tuans and mems with a 'touch of good old English home cooking'. As the wife of tuan remarked, 'More than anything else, I think it was the thrill of eating English food prepared by China men who hadn't a clue where England was! Also guests were expected to appear suitably dressed at dinner although it was being served in the middle of a jungle infested by man-eating tigers!'

'Bar boys' were also known to prepare cocktails or special concoctions to revive those suffering from hangovers. 'Rest houses' catered exclusively to Europeans and their locations were chosen with care, usually in cool patches hacked out of the jungle, on elevated ground beside a river or on a stretch of beautiful beach. At other locations were similar establishments or tempat peranginan (in Malay it meant 'a place to take the air'). These provided accommodation for visiting members of Malay royalty and high-ranking Malay court and government officials. During the Japanese occupation of Malaya (1941 to 1945) 'rest houses' accommodated military administration officers. The old silver crockery, cutlery, decorative brass oil lamps, pictures of the British royal family as well as items of sentimental value were buried at secret locations by 'rest houses' staff. These were dug up after the Japanese surrender and were put back into use when the British colonial administration returned in 1945.

When the Japanese army swept down the Malay peninsula in December 1941, They committed many atrocities. The inhabitants of almost every village and town had bitter stories to tell after the surrender of Japan in 1945. Many stories were written about people who had terrifying experiences. But one that escaped attention was the fantastic story about a lieutenant Yamamoto, a brutal Japanese officers and Minah, a beautiful pontianak.  According to the late Dol Putih, a bomoh, the incredible 'meeting' between them took place in 1943 when the officer was using a 'rest house' in Ulu Selangor as his headquaters. 'I do not expect many people to believe this story', said Dol Putih, 'but it actually happened because I was involved in it. I used my supernatural power to arrange for a pontianak to meet lieutenant Yamamoto, The Japanese officer who claimed to be samurai of the elite Japanese warrior class and who is the main character in the story I am about to tell. But, I must make it clear that a pontianak isn't the blood thirsty demon that people make it out to be. One has to remember that it is a half-human demon. If you had supernatural power you could approach a pontianak for assistance as I did when I wanted to kill this brutal Japanese officer.

'When I explained to the pontianak in this story that the Japanese officer had killed, tortured and raped a lot of people, she was eager to punish him. Of course, she could have killed him easily by transforming herself into her 'other self' a large bird with a hideous human face and long, razor-sharp claws. But, she decided to end his life in a manner that would have shocked even the kempeitai, the dreaded Japanese secret police to which Yamamoto belonged. (Note: Evidence recorded at the International War Crimes Tribunal in Tokyo following the surrender of Japan in 1945 showed that one of the 'favourite' tortures of the kempeitai was to remove the fingernails of suspected 'anti-Japanese spies' in order to obtain 'confessions').

'Some old residents who live in the vicinity where the old 'rest house' once stood will tell you that Yamamoto ghost may still be seen on moonlit nights crawling about the garden, its naked body covered in blood and dragging its entrails along the ground. Also, that a woman's shrill, mocking laughter could be heard. 'listen! The pontianak who killed the Japanese officer is laughing!' kampung folk would say. 'She clawed a piece of flesh from his body each day for twenty-six days and kept him alive in the jungle by forcing him to drink his own blood! She tore his body into pieces and hung them from the branches of two tall trees for the crows, owls and ants to feed on!' lieutenant Yamamoto was fat, stumpy man in the early forties and was head of the kempeitai in the Ulu Selangor area. One of his major concerns was to obtain information about based people who were helping two anti-Japanese guerrilla units based in the jungle, the British-led Force 136 and the Malayan People's Anti-Japanese Army (MPAJA) led by the Malayan Communist Party. He spoke fairly good English and some 'bazaar' Malay.

During his search for 'anti-Japanese elements' among the villagers he would arrest young girls whom he accused of being 'agents' for the guerrillas and raped them. Many became pregnant and some had committed suicide rather than bring disgrace to themselves and to their families. This is bomoh Dol Puteh's story (translated from Malay): The parents of many of the victims appealed to me for help. But whom could I have turn when everybody was in fear of being killed by the Japanese? I decided to spend more days alone in the jungle in the hope of getting helpful advice from some of the spirits. One moonlit night as I was meditating under a tree, I saw a young girl approaching me. I recognised her as Minah, who was from my village. I remembered her well because she was raped and died in childbirth when she was about sixteen years old. That was a long time ago. But, like all spirits she hadn't aged. Although she was about sixty five, the same age as myself, she still looked sixteen and irresistibly beautiful. 


It was the first time that I met a pontianak and I could immediately understand why men surrendered themselves so willingly to them! Some had the misfortune to be led to an unexpected and agonising death as punishment for having raped or abused a woman. Minah became a pontianak so that she could take her revenge and kill the man who had raped her. but not having done anything wrong to her when she was alive, I was in no fear of being harmed. The man who raped her was her paternal uncle. Police discovered his body tied to the trunk of a tree close to an anthill inhabited by semut api (large, black ants with big claws). The victim's groin area had been smeared with wild honey. It had attracted thousands of these vicious ants that ate away most of his flesh, exposing the bones. He must have died a slow and agonising death!


The revenge of a pontianak was terrible, indeed! Minah said to me, ;I know why you are here, Pak Putih. Perhaps I could help you to remove this brutal Japanese officer who was caused so much suffering?' "That is most kind of you', I replied. 'Your help would be greatly appreaciated'. 'Meet me under the jambu batu tree in the garden of your house at midnight tomorrow and I shall tell you about my plan to punish him. Please keep our meeting secret'. When we met she told me, ' hear Yamamoto is in search of a new mistress. He usually drinks each evening at a coffee shop where I shall become a waitress only for tonight, so that I could meet him. Come along. It should be quite amusing'.  I was about to ask her how she had planned to punish him when I was shocked to see her face momentarily change into that of a toothless, wrinkled old woman with eyes the colour of blood. Her fingernails grew into long, black claws.


A shiver ran down my spine. The feeling of fear left me after a few seconds when I saw she was once again a beautiful young woman! 'I am sorry if I scared you', she said softly with a smile. I was speechless and my heart was still pounding in my ears from the affects of the chock. I knew she was going to severely harm or kill Yamamoto that night. but before that happened I sensed she would amuse herself by toying with him like a cat would play with a mouse and kill him whenever it pleased her. I had been a bomoh for many years and encountered other evil spirits. but, it was the first time I was about to witness a pontianak's terrifying power!


As I entered the coffee shop that evening, I looked quickly around expecting to see Minah serving the tables in her ;role' as waitress, but she wasn't there. I sat at a table and was wondering where she could be when she suddenly appeared before me. She looked more beautiful than I had seen her before. In her long, silky hair was a red kemboja blossom that matched the colour of her lips. Her eyes sparkled like large, black diamonds in pools of clear water and there was a golden glow about her face. 'You look very beautiful tonight', I said. 'I hope Yamamoto thinks so, too. He hasn't arrived yet and I'm getting impatient. Ah! There he is! He's approaching the entrance!' How could she have seen him when she was facing me and the entrance was directly behind her? Did she also have eyes at the back of her head? i had forgotten for a moment that Minah was supernatural and nothing was impossible for her!


Yamamoto was as usual in the company of some informers who worked for the kempetai. Seeing him, people seated at tables quickly stood up and bowed low. The Chinese coffee chop owner led Yamamoto and his friends to a large table in the corner that was specially reserved for him. Minah said, 'Excuse me. I have some work to do'. I saw her go quickly towards Yamamoto. He had placed a cigarette between his lips but before he could light it, she quickly struck a match and offered him the flame. He looked up and seeing her face, his small eyes almost popped out of his head. he was indeed dazzled by her beauty and lost no time making his romantic intentions noticeable. he offered her a seat next to him while his eyes ran over her shapely body. I moved to a table closer since I was curious about what was going to happen next. 


'What is your name?' Yamamoto asked her. 'Minah', she said softly, lowering her eyes. 'How old are you?' 'Sixteen' 'my name is Yamamoto san', he said. 'I know. You are very popular in this town', she said. He grinned, nodding his shaved head. 'i am very attracted to you', he said. 'You are very beautiful. I did not see you here before'. 'I only started work today'. 'What were you doing before?' 'I was a student, but I had to leave school because I had to go out to work to earn money to buy food and medicines for my old, sick, widowed mother', she said, pretending to wipe away a tear. 'From tonight, you will not have to worry about money! I have plenty to give you!' he said, placing a hand on her knee. he attempted to kiss her, but she gently pushed him away. She turned to flash me a triumphant smile, as much as to say, 'I've hooked him like a stupid fish!'


Minah was playing the part of a shy kampung girl like a professional actress and after half an hour had passed it was easy to see Yamamoto's desire to be alone with her was growing by each passing minute. He leaned close to her and whispered, 'Let's go to my house'. She lowered her eyes, 'I know you wish to be alone with me...' She hesitated and frowned. 'What's the problem?' 'I heard you have a mistress. If she sees me with you, she will be jealous'. he grinned. 'Don't worry! I got rid of her two days ago!' he said raising his voice and laughing. 'Shhh! Not so loud. Others will hear you!' she said, gently pinching his arm and smiling. 'I shall make you very rich if you become my mistress!' he whispered. 'Oh, yes! I would like to be very rich!' she said and nestled closer to him.


'Let's go to my place, now!' he said impatiently. 'All right, but I don't want people to see us leaving together. You go ahead. Wait for me at the entrance to the park'. 'Why the park and not my place?' he asked. 'It's such a romantic, moonlite night! Don't you wish to get to know me better before we go to your bedroom?' 'Of course! I shall meet you at the park', he replied. He rose to his feet and picking up his samurai sword said to his friends around the table, 'I am sleepy and I am going home'. As soon as he left Minah passed by my table and said under her breath, ;I'll be leaving shortly. Follow some distance behind, if you wish to witness the death of this pig!'


I noticed her eyes had turned a bright red but only for a fleeting moment. I knew I was about to witness something I would not forget for the rest of my life. Minah walked leisurely towards the park entrance and I followed some distance behind. The moon was almost directly overhead in a cloudless sky. As she neared the entrance to the park, I saw Yamamoto appear from behind the trunk of a tree. he stood before her with outstretched arms ready to embrace her. She stepped aside, avoiding contact with him and she palyfully ran from him. He chased after her. But she was too fast for him. "Try and catch me if you can!' she said with a laugh.


I knew at once she was planning to lure him along the road that ran deeper into the park and towards the fringe of the jungle. He chased after her and she kept urging him to catch her. When he stopped to catch his breath they had almost reached the jungle. She stood in front of him with her arms extended and said, 'Come to my arms! I am hungry for love!' He went towards her eagerly. But with every step he took, she moved a step away. She had reached an area overgrown with bushes and elephant grass when he lost sight of her. 'Where are you?' he called out. Then, suddenly from behind a bush there appeared a large, black bird with a woman's chalk white, deeply wrinkled face, its eyes red and glowing!


For a moment I couldn't believe what I was seeing, that Minah had transformed herself into a pontianak! But, there she was right before my eyes, an evil, old woman who smelt of rotten flesh! Instant fear had rooted me to the ground. I began to tremble. I heard Yamamoto let out a startled cry as she came slowly towards him. 'How do you like me now? Kiss me!' she said and shrieked with laughther that seemed to echo through the jungle. He tried to run but tripped over the root of a tree and fell, panting. Beads of perspiration covered his frightened face. He looked up and cried out in fear as she hovered over him, her wings flapping and her long claws extended, ready to attack. 'You are a murderer, torturer and a rapist!' she said and spat into his face. 'I am going to kill you tonight! Can you hear the cries of the people you had tortured? Can you hear the cries of the young woman you had raped?'


As she spoke the jungle was filled with the pitiful cries of people in pain and voices pleading for mercy. Yamamoto got to his feet and withdrawing his samurai sword, pointed the long, curved blade at her. With a quick swipe at his hand with her claws, the sword was knocked to the ground. he attempted to grab the pistol from the holster on his waist but she clawed his arm. He screamed in pain and fell among the bushes, blood dripping from his wounds. pouncing on him, she began to rip strips of flesh from his face and head, exposing a part of his skull. his shirt was covered in blood and he was screaming in agony and then I saw a most revolting sight. She ripped away his trousers and tore out his genitals. Shrieking with laughter, she held them up in front of his face!


I was dazed and in a cold sweat. I began to walk away as fast as my unsteady legs could carry me. As I neared the entrance to the park I could still faintly hear Yamamoto's scream and her shrill laughter. Suddenly, there was an eerie silence. When Yamamoto had not reported for duty the following day the kempeitai made a search for him as well as for Minah whom they suspected of having played a part in his disappearance. Several people were interrogated and tortured, but no clues were produced. I was not interrogated because nobody besides Minah knew I had been part of the plot to kil Yamamoto. 


A woodcutter working in the jungle beside the park made a grisly discovery about two weeks later. he found parts of rotting human body hanging from the branches of two tall trees. A samurai sword was discovered among the bushes. Attached to it was an ivory seal with Yamamoto's name carved on it. News of Yamamoto's death soon spread throughout Ulu Selangor and there was great relief among the people to know that this monster had suffered such a terrible death. I have kept details of the murder a secret all these years, until now. I do not have any regrets for the part I played in Yamamoto's murder. He was an evil man. Furthermore, at that time we were still at war with Japan and he was the enemy. 


The next time I saw Minah was when she appeared to me in a dream. Was it a dream? I am not quite sure. It happened shortly after the surrender of Japan in August 1945. Sometimes a woman;s beauty can have a strange effect on a person, because the moment I saw her the memory of her part in Yamamoto's gruesome murder was completely erased from my mind. I knew she had come to say farewell. I was fully awake. I saw her standing in a shaft of moonlight that came through the window of my bedroom and quite suddenly she disappeared. I recalled stories I had heard that pontianaks appeared whenever the moon was entering an evil phase and I was curious to find out the reason for her visit. I ran to the bedroom window and looked out at the moonlit jungle. was she somewhere among the silver trees? 'Minah... are you there?' I called. Silence.


Then, I heard the voice of a woman singing a melancholy song that drifted me in the wind from afar. I could only hear snatches of the lyrics and was able to make out that it was about a young girl who was going to end her life because her parents had forbidden her to marry the man she loved. I wept. It was the most beautiful song I had ever heard. I never heard it again. But, whenever I hear Tudong Priok the famous Malay classic, I note that it has certain similarities to the song I heard that night. Tears rush to my eyes because I believed it was Minah who was singing it. Many years have since passed and like the song, the memory of her has almost faded away.


Note : The influence that bomohs have in the daily lives of most if not all, Malay communities is legendary and despite the advent of the computer and internet, the 'specialised services' they provide their clients is secret, personal and unique. There is some confusion about meaning of bomoh. The Malay-English dictionary describes such a person (male or female) as ;village doctor; magician'. Some authors also refer to them by other names such as pawang and dukun whom the Malay-English dictionary describes as 'magicians who are expert in casting spells, making talismans and drugs'. A bomoh is a respected in member of any community because of his knowledge on incantations (jampi-jampi) and taboos (pantang) that contain ancient Sanskrit words as well as the names of Hindu gods and deities of a pre-Islamic era. These were preserved over the centuries and offered cures and protection against all forms of evil. Today, bomohs may be found in cities and have clients from various races. Among them are politicians, professional for a variety of reasons ranging from choosing favourable times for holding political elections, signing business contracts, the choice  of marriage partners and making talismans and charms as protection against people with intentions to use witchcraft to harm or kill. Most bomoh specialise in curing people who are possessed or who are suffering from mysterious diseases caused by evil spirits usually the result of 'black magic' used by an enemy. In performing exorcisms, bomohs respect the ancient laws of customs (adat) and the strict laws of Islam. 

The Devil's Concubine

The name Pantai Cinta Berahi might be better remembered by the older generation of Malaysians and old British colonial residents for its notoriety as a rendezvous for affaires d'amour rather than one of the many tourist attractions along the picturesque east cost of the Malay peninsula. The beauty of the beach remains unchanged to this day, surviving a brief but torturous period when Japanese troops invaded it on December 8, 1941 and went on to conquer Malaya and Singapore.


'The Beach Of Passionate Love's' as it was known to romantic tuans in colonial days, is located near the mouth of the Kelantan River and Kota Bharu, the capital of the sultanate of Kelantan. It is a segment of a very long stretch of dazzling, powdered white coral with strips of golden sand in between. Lazy coconut trees lean their feathered heads towards a turquoise green South China Sea. Along this winding and at times desolate stretch, quaint Malay kampungs appeared in the shade of fruits trees, cempedak, durian and mangoes amidst the heady scent of cempaka, melor and kemboja blossoms and rows of brightly painted fishing perahu along the beach waiting to set out to harvest the sea.


The Beach Of Passionate Love had earned a notorious reputation as a place where illicit love 'affairs' began. Perhaps it was the beach's breathtaking beauty under a full moon, or the magic of a million stars on a velvety black night that cast a mystic spell on lonely hearts in search of love. Or, was it the gentle, perfumed breezes that whispered pantuns of love to the graceful ru trees?


Many tales were told of hearts consumed by the red flames of passion and others that were turned to ash bye the white heat of jealousy and hate. There were also tales of beautiful woman who wandered in the moonlight with seductive smiles and evil in their hearts. 'Beware!' warned the superstitious. 'They are pontianaks, the accursed souls of the undead that transform themselves from beautiful young woman known as sundal bolong into hideous, blood thirsty birds who ripped open the bellies of pregnant women, killing then and their unborn and with their sharp claws tore out the genitals of lustful men! Their evil hearts were filled with envy for women who were to become mothers because they had been deprived of experiencing such a joy, having being cursed to die in childbirth. And, they seduced men who lusted for women and whom they killed in the most heinous manner!'


'A person doesn't disappear just like that!' said Ambler with a snap of his finger to accentuate the point he was making. 'Its been almost a month, you know!' It was the middle of October 1935. The grey-haired assistant to the British Adviser was sitting in a secluded corner of the bar at the Kota Bharu Cricket Club. Beside him was Tuxford, the superintendent of police who was a much younger man. They had been discussing the mysterious disappearance of Charles Steed, an English rubber planter, who was last seen one evening in the company of a young woman on The Beach Of Passionate Love. 'Not a clue!' said Tuxford dejectedly. 'What about his native mistress?' asked Ambler. 'I suspect she knows more than what she told the police', Tuxford mumbled. 'More about what?' asked Ambler. 'About the fact that Steed had another mistress'. Ambler raised his eyebrows, 'Did he?' he asked as he puffed on his pipe.


"We think so. The mistress we know about, Aminah, has been with him for almost ten years despite his numerous other love affairs. But , there are people who said they'd seen him with another woman, but none were able to describe her because she always covered most of her face with the veil with which she covered her head. From the little they saw of her, she was very pretty. After Steed's disappearance, she was not seen again. Nobody seemed to know anything about her'. 'Could this mysterious woman have kidnapped him?' asked Ambler. f that were so, there should have been demand for a ransom to be paid', said Tuxford. 'But, Steed who was in his fifties wasn't well off. As far as I know, he was alone in this country, coming out here from England as a young man to plant rubber. He spent whatever money he has on whisky and women'.


Ambler was silent for a while, deep in thought. 'You are saying that your investigations have revealed absolutely nothing?' "It appears so', said Tuxford looking away, 'unless, of course we are prepared to believe what superstitious kampung folk have been saying'. 'Which is?' 'That Steed was abducted by pontianak! You know, one of those legendary half-human female Draculas', said Tuxford with a laugh. 'And why would one of this beautiful demons wish to abduct a fifty year old man?' 'Its a fantastic story that has something to do with spite and jealousy between two sisters, one of whom was a pontianak and the other was...', Tuxford stopped what he was about to say and grinned. "Go on... who was the other woman?' asked Ambler impatiently.


'Believe it or not, she was Aminah, Steed's loyal and faithful mistress!' said Tuxford, his grin widening. 'You didn't think I would believe such nonsense, did you?' Ambler didn't seem to share Tuxford's view. Didn't you think it was worth investigating? nonsensical as it seemed to you, it was the only reason given to explain Steed's mysterious disappearance. I think we need to speak to some of these kampung folk'. 'You're not serious, surely', said Tuxford. 'Of course I am! The Colonial Office in London has cabled the British Adviser asking for a full report. They've hinted they may send a man from Scotland Yard here to assist in investigations. It wouldn't want the whole thing to blow up in our faces, would you?'


Tuxford quickly arranged a meeting between Ambler, Pak Ismail, a well-known bomoh and himself. The old magician had provided valuable asisstance to the police in the arrest of two men wanted for murder and robbery. ;He conducted the whole thing quiet simply, too', Tuxford recalled to Ambler as they drove towards the kampung where Pak Ismail lived. 'He sat crossed-legged on a mat, staring at the flame of a candle for some time, muttering incantations. While in a trance he described in detail how long-bladed parang could be found! Then came the biggest shock of all when he described the murderers and gave their names and addresses! It turned out that the culprits were from a kampung in the nearby state of Terengganu. Quite astonishing, really! But, that was a criminal investigation and nothing to do with pontianaks, the supernatural and mumbo-jumbo. Don't be suprised if something quite hair-raising happens this morning when you meet the old bomoh for the first time!'


Ambler said with a wry smile', I've lived in this country long enough. Nothing really surprises me'. Pak Ismail greeted the two men cordially and lad them into a room in the small house he shared with his wife and grown-up son. A large mat had been spread on the floor. After the customary coffee was served he smiled and said, ;Forgive me for asking, but what took you so long coming here? It's more than a month since tuan Steed disappeared', directing his question at Tuxford. 'The police were busy investigating other information concerning the case', Tuxford said with a smile. The old man nodded his grey head slowly and said, 'I see'. He knew Tuxford was lying.


'I made an investigation into this matter some time ago. There's no need for me to do so again', said Pak Ismail. 'Could you tell us what your investigation revealed?' asked Tuxford. Pak Ismail smiled. 'If I told you what I had discovered, you wouldn't believe me'. 'Why do you think so?' asked Tuxford. 'It's because Europeans do not believe in Malay spiritualism and superstitions. And, I do not wish to be ridiculed', he said. 'We have not come here to ridiculed you Pak Ismail, but to seek your help in this matter', said Ambler who spoke fluent 'court' Malay unlike Tuxford whose knowledge of the language was limited to 'bazaar' Malay.


'Your knowledge of the Malay language surprises me, tuan. Did you make a special study of it?' asked Pak Ismail, now more relaxed. 'Yes, as a matter of fact I was coached by a well-known tutor for many years after I joined government service. I have read the Sejarah Melayu or the Malay Annals and some books on Malay history and folklore that I found fascinating', said Ambler. 'Ah! Then, you should familiar with Malay supernatural beliefs?' said Pak Ismail with a sparkle in his eyes. 'I have a very limited knowledge about such things', replied Ambler. The old man laughed, 'Having a limited knowledge of something is better than having none at all!' directing his remark at Tuxford who forced a smile that failed to hide his embarrassment.


Ambler was glad that the 'ice' was broken between Pak Ismail and himself, 'Please drink your coffee tuans, before it gets cold', said Pak Ismail. Silence followed for some time, then Pak Ismail said casually, 'Tuans Steed is alive'. He was conscious of the surprised stares from the two men who sat before him. 'Where is he? Ambler asked softly. Pak Ismail studied their faces. 'He is at certain place where he is being punished', he said seriously. 'Punished?' Ambler asked, surprised. Pak Ismail rolled a rokok daun, lighted it and the room was soon filled with the aroma of clove in the pandanus leaf cigarette.


'The story begins many years ago when tuan Steed took a mistress named Aminah. I think you both know the woman I mean?' said Pak Ismail. 'Unfortunately, it has become the practice for young, uneducated women from large families to become the mistresses of Europeans. Money is the main attraction, since they would be provided with far better lives than what men in the kampung could offer them. Also, their families would benefit financially although such relationships were generally frowned on. But, as they say, hard life created many temptations and also created jealousy and revenge as happened in tuan Steed's relationship with Aminah, because it involved her sister Juriah who was ten years younger. Even at a young age Juriah had made up her mind to follow in her elder sister's footsteps and become the mistress of an English tuan. But, it was not to be. She had tried to attract a few bachelors who had newly arrived from England but without success, the reason was because she lacked good looks and other feminine charms. Frustrated, she went to live with her sister and Steed on his rubber plantations. by doing so it had made her even more envious of her sister. Then, a wild idea entered her head, she would try and take Steed away from Aminah! One day when Aminah had gone out, Juriah found herself alone at home with Steed. It wasn't the first time, but on this occasion she decided to put her plan into action, and seduce Steed. I must add that it would not have taken her much effort to do so since he had always been very attracted to young women.


'They were able to conceal their affair from Aminah for some time. When Juriah became pregnant Aminah discovered what had been going on behind her back. She drove Juriah out of her house. Juriah had foolishly thought Steed would leave Aminah and follow her since she believed he loved her. When this did not happen, she realised she had been deceived him. Sudden hate gripped her and she sought revenged not only against Steed but also Aminah. She blamed him for everything that had happened and even accused him of having raped her. Some months later she died in childbirth. Before she died she accused Aminah of putting a curse on her and vowed that her spirit would take revenge. Juriah surrendered her soul to Satan and became a pontianak. By doing so Juriah had realised her dream to be beautiful and powerful. Steed had no idea that the seductive young woman who had lured him to The Beach Of Passionate Love one night was in fact, Juriah.. now a sundal bolong. Her features had completely changed. The more he was with her the more he desired her. It wasn't long before they began living together.


'Aminah consulted me about the matter and I had no difficulty discovering the cause of the problem. Not content that she already had Steed under her control, Juriah wanted him to suffer for the way ha had betrayed her love. Or, had she foolishly mistaken his lust as a demonstration of his love? Apparently, she had been deceived by the nature of her own desires. Now, blinded by hate, she decided to make him die slowly and agonising death. I had explained to Aminah that the only way she could release Steed from Juriah's control was if Juriah were destroyed'. Pak Ismail had come to the end of his story that Tuxford and Ambler found difficult to believe but were left with no choice since it was the only 'evidence' they had in the case.


'You told us earlier that Steed is alive', said Tuxford anxiously. 'Is there anything we can do to rescue him? I could raid the place where he is being held with some armed policemen, if necessary!' Pak Ismail smiled and wagged his head slowly, dismissing Tuxford's suggestion. 'You seem to forget you are dealing with a demon. This is a spiritual problem that cannot be solved by using guns and bullets. Steed is a prisoner in a mountain cave deep in the jungle that is frequented by other pontianaks. I had a vision of him a few nights ago. His screams echoed through the cave where he is imprisoned! It was pitiful to hear him. His flesh is torn and he looks like a skeleton. The evil Juriah keeps him alive only to satisfy her desire to torture him.' 'Somehow, I must find a way to save his life!' said Tuxford. 'I shall reward you handsomely for your trouble!' 


Pak Ismail looked steadily at Tuxford. 'I am not a charlatan, tuan', he said. 'I do not save people who have been possessed by the devil and expect to be paid!' 'I am sorry if i offended you', said Tuxford. 'Could you save him, or is it too late?' Pak Ismail was silent for some time, deep in thought. 'There might be a way. But, I would have to think about it very seriously. I shall give you my reply tomorrow morning', he said rising to his feet. 


When they met at Pak Ismail's home the following morning, he told them, 'I have already spoken to Aminah, Steed mistress, about my plan to rescue him and that i would need her assistance. She has agreed although i did not give her details of my plan. I would also require assurance of your support. You would have to trust me completely in whatever I intend doing. The success or failure of my plan depend entirely on the efforts the four of us. I may also tell you that our lives shall be at risk. No time must lost because each day that passes brings Steed nearer to death1 Do I have your support?' 'We are prepared to go along with whatever you have in mind, Pak Ismail', said Ambler.

'Good. I'll inform Aminah', Pak Ismail said. 'We shall meet here four hours before sunset tomorrow. I might remind you that the cave where tuan Steed is being held prisoner is in the mountains. To reach the area we will have to go first by road to a remote kampung and then by river and walk the rest of the way through dense jungle. Please do not wear your policemen uniform', he told Tuxford. 'We must not arouse the suspicion of anyone we meet. If i am asked, I shall say we are on a hunting trip. Wear ordinary clothes, both of you. But, bring along a gun and a powerful flashlight.


As had been arranged, Ambler and Tuxford arrived at Pak Ismail's house the following afternoon to find Aminah already there. She greeted the two men pleasantly although it was easy to see that she was anxious about the outcome of the 'rescue operation'. Pak Ismail had placed whatever he required for the journey in a bamboo basket. This was a bottle containing petrol, two bottles of drinking water and four mugs, a box of matches, a long-bladed kris and two short lengths of thin rope. he sat cross-legged before an urn of burning incense and chanted jampi-jampi over a bowl of water containing the petals of some flowers. He then sprinkled the water from the bowl on to himself and the others. 'It is for protection against the evil we shall encounter', he said calmly.


With Tuxford driving, they set off in the direction of the Besut River, a journey of some sixty kilometers. An hour later they were in a perahu rowed by Pak Ismail and Aminah on their way up-river to Kampung Si Gading, a small village in the steep, mountainous area of Gunong Lawit that rises 1,500 metres and is covered in dense jungle. Within it was the cave where Steed was being held. It was late afternoon as they reached toe foothills of the mountain range and the terrain became uneven with treacherous gullies covered with creepers and elephant grass. They paused now and then to wipe away perspiration that dripped from their faces and soaked their shirts or to remove kerengga (red 'fire ants') and leeches from their arms and legs. They hacked through the undergrowth with parangs for more than an hour and came to a small clearing in the jungle that presented a view of the steep mountain, three hundred meters away. Deep, white gashes along its side caused by landslides during heavy monsoon rains, revealed its white limestone composition.


The sun had set as Pak Ismail called a halt in an area of level ground sparsely covered by ferns and creepers. From his basket he removed the bottles of drinking water and the mugs. 'Let's have a drink before we move on. The cave where Steed is prisoner is not far from here. Although it is the first time I am in this area, this place is not strange to me because I have seen it in dreams'. He looked at Tuxford and Ambler, adding, 'I know it is difficult for you to believe such things. But, soon we will be tested to our limits when we are confronted with a situation that I, too, have not encountered before. First of all, let us construct a stretcher out of bamboo and vines. We shall need it to carry Steed to safety after I have rescued him'.


A crude stretcher was quickly constructed with two stout bamboo poles criss-crossed in the centre vines. This done, Pak Ismail said, 'I must ask the three of you to do exactly as I say. At this time, just before sunset, pontianaks go to a small lake higher in the mountains to bathe. No time must be lost. I shall enter the cave and go directly to where Steed is being held. i shall carry him on my back out of the cave and place him on the stretcher after which we must move with all speed down the mountainside to our perahu at the river. Let me warn you. We must expect to be attacked by the pontianak when it discovers that Steed has escaped. I shall try and overpower it and tie its wings with a length of rope I shall wear around my waist. There is another rope in my basket with which Tuxford will bind the pontianak's legs. Tuan Ambler will pour the bottle of petrol over its body and Aminah will stab it in its heart with my kris. i shall throw a lighted match on to it and we shall all watch it burn to death! our lives are in each other's hands! We must be brave! We must not fail although we shall come face to face with evil! God willing, I hope to carry out such a plan!'


As Pak Ismail entered the huge mouth of cave he had stench of rotting flesh. In the fast-fading light he saw what looked like bones and human skeletons and he wondered if he had arrived too late to save Steed's life. He moved further into the cave as fast as he could and crouched as bats screamed overhead towards the entrance of the cave on their way to their nightly hunt. He hurried on, deeper into the cave. he paused to listen because he thought he had heard the sound of a groan. His heart skipped a beat. he heard another groan. Straining his eyes, he was able to make out the figure of man lying on the ground with his hands tied behind his back. 'Tuan Steed, I am bomoh Ismail', he called softly. 'I have come to rescue you!'


Steed's face and body were covered in dried blood and there was a fresh wound on the side of  his neck. He was barely conscious. Pak Ismail quickly freed his hands. He gently lifted him up to his feet and hoisted him on to his back. "Place your arms tightly around my neck, tuan', said Pak Ismail and was glad to see Steed responded, although weakly. The next moment the bomoh was moving as fast as he could towards the entrance of the cave that was now only barely visible in the fast-approaching darkness. hiding in the undergrowth near the mouth of the cave, Tuxford, Ambler and Aminah watched the entrance for sign of Pak Ismail, their faces tense. Tuxford whispered to Ambler, 'Pak Ismail has been gone quite some time! He may be in trouble! I feel like going into the cave to find out!' Let's wait a while longer!' said Ambler.


Presently they saw a large black bird the size of a vulture. It had its wings extended and was gliding slowly towards the cave. it alighted on a rock beside the entrance. 'It is my sister Juriah! The pontianak!' said Aminah excitedly under her breath. At that moment the creature turned around, as though it was conscious of the presence of the intruders. A shiver ran through Tuxford and Ambler as they saw a hideous, white human face with red glowing eyes and long, shiny black hair covering most of its feathered body. 'Good God!' whispered Ambler trembling slightly, as Tuxford withdrew the .45 from the holster attached to the belt on his waist. The creature hopped off the rock and began to approach them menacingly, its wings fully extended. Tuxford took aim with his revolver. A sudden noise from the cave's entrance caused the creature to swing around. It screeched angrily caused the creature saw Pak Ismail carrying Steed on his back. It flew upwards instantly and dived at Pak Ismail with its long claws extended. Pak Ismail threw himself to the ground, Steed still clinging to his back.


'Get the stretcher and take Steed away!' he shouted to Ambler and tuxford. Moments later Steed was being carried away to safety, leaving Pak Ismail free to deal with his attacker. Getting to his feet and pointing a finger defiantly at the pontianak as it circled above him, Pak Ismail shouted, 'In the name of Allah the Merciful, the Beneficient! I have come to destroy you, concubine of Satan! I know who you are! You are Juriah! The sister of Aminah! You are the accursed one who died in childbirth! You gave your soul and that of your unborn child to Syaitan the Devil! Curse you!'


While Steed rested on the stretcher, Tuxford, Ambler and Aminah watched spellbound as the pontianak screeching obscenities at Pak Ismail amazingly, jumped high and appeared to be suspended in mid-air. He grabbed the creature by its legs and crashed with it to the ground. Sitting astride it he quickly tied its wings with the rope around his waist. 'Tuan Tuxford! Tie its legs!' he shouted and as Tuxford compiled, Ambler ran up as they had earlier planned and emptied the bottle of petrol on to the creature's body. The next instant Aminah plunged the long blade of Pak Ismail's kris into its heart. Stand back!' shouted Pak Ismail as he threw a lighted match on to the pontianak's body. As the flames shot up there were agonising screams as the creature transformed itself into Juriah before being consumed by fire. To their amazement they saw Steed sitting up on the stretcher and looking rather dazed as though he had just awakened from a deep sleep. Amazingly, too they noticed the wounds on his body had completely disappeared.


Steed had no recollection of being held prisoner in the cave. All that he remembered was wondering about in the jungle and suddenly waking up in the company of the people ho had rescued him. Everything else had been erased from hie memory. That was the story he told the police. His only memory of Juriah was that they had an affair and that she died in childbirth. 'Apparently, Steed suffered from a spell of amnesia, a lapse of memory!' remarked Sir Anthony Roper, the British Adviser. 'I've heard of such cases. Apparently, he had wandered about the jungle for almost a month! It was very fortunate the four of you found him alive! Congratulations! I had heard some superstitious mumbo-jumbo that he was abducted by a devil-bird or some ridiculous creature! It's quite amazing how Steed was able to survive for so long in a jungle infested with man-eating tigers! Don't you agree, Ambler"'


Ambler forced a smile and said, 'Oh, yes indeed, sir!' Later, Ambler remarked to Tuxford, 'I suppose nobody would ever believe what really happened! It was something one only reads about in horror fiction stories!' Tuxford was thoughtful. 'I suppose what happened proves that truth is something stranger than fiction', he said wryly. Steed quickly regained he health. He sold his small rubber plantation, married his 'old love' Aminah and went to live on one of the beautiful island off the coast of Kelantan. Aminah never told him about how he was rescued. Neither did Ambler, Tuxford and Pak Ismail. They believed there was nothing to be gained from doing so. 

The Moon Princess

It was a sultry Malayan night in September 1931. The rain-bearing northeast monsoon was late in arriving and the air was still and humid. iris Pearson was perspiring and awake in bed. The ceiling fan had not eased her discomfort. The bedside clock said it was just after 2 a.m. Her husband Thomas Pearson, a magistrate, was away in a neighbouring state on duty and would not return home until the following day. The large window of her bedroom was open and 'framed' within it was a picturesque scene of coconut palms silhouetted in the moonlight against a silver-blue sky and there was the heady fragrance of jasmine and frangipani.

Despite the serene beauty of the tropical night she had a strange feeling that an evil presence was watching her from the shadows on the veranda outside her bedroom. Presently she noticed a movement and a cold shiver ran down her spine when she saw a woman standing in the shadows. She had a beautiful face and eyes that glowered like red-hot coals. Iris Pearson had wanted to scream, knowing it would awaken the two maidservants in the adjoining bedroom and bring them quickly to her side. But, the cold fingers of fear had already gripped her throat as she helplessly saw the woman with red eyes transforming herself into large, black bird. it now had a grostesque human face, black feathers and long human-like hair. Flapping its wings, it jumped on to the windowsill, cackling softly. A moment later it stood at the foot of the bed and began combing its tresses with its curved claws. Trembling, Iris Pearson reached for the flashlight on the bedside table and in one desperate movement directed a powerful beam of light on to the creature. It shrieked in anger, its face turning into hideous mask. It began to back away, shielding its face with its wings from the light. It quickly spun round and flew out of the window, its high-pitched cries fading into the night.

On his returnto his home at Bukit Damansara a pleasant retreat on the outskirts of Kuala Lumpur, Thomas Pearson was stunned when told by his house servants that his wife, who was five months pregnant with their first child was missing. Police were informed and a search was soon in progress. That night her mutilated body was discovered under a bush not far from her home. Her stomach had been ripped open exposing the feotus of the child she was carrying. Her eyes had been gouged and there were deep scratch marks on her breasts and face. A government pathologist's report said an animal with sharp claws could have cause the fatal injuries.

Six months later (March 1932), a beautiful, young woman named Puteri Bulan sat in the dock of the High Court in Kuala Lumpur charged with the murder of Iris Pearson. The court was filled to capacity as counsel for the prosecution and defence were about to make their final submissions to an all-European jury. A verdict was expected the same day in one of the most bizarre and sentional murder cases to have come before a British court of justice. People had gathered in the corridors of the old Victorian building where the High Court was situated while a large crowd waited outside.

A small group of stone-faced English tuans in starched white drill trousers, white baju tutup (tunic jackets) and white topi (sun helmets), the standard dress that identified members of the British colonial administrative service and those in private business, had gathered under a row of bright red and green flame-of-the-forest trees. They carried a placard on which was written in large capital letters : HANG HER! It also represented the sentiments of the small English community.

Thomas Pearson had suffered a severe mental breakdown after the discovery of his wife's mutilated body and was confined to a mental institution in England. His state of health didi not permit him to be a witness at the trial that had now entered its tenth and final day. Puteri Bulan was Thomas Pearson's mistress for two years before he married Iris Pearson. It had been a practice during British colonial rule in Malaya, as in order parts of the far-flung British Empire, for lonely English bachelors to take young native woman as mistresses.

Thomas Pearson had met the beautiful Puteri Bulan when he was a bachelor of twenty-seven and she was seventeen. they had first set eyes on each other when she was produced before him in court, charged with stealing a loaf of bread. She had gone on her knees begging his mercy, 'I stole the bread because my grandmother who is blind and I were starving, tuan!' she cried, tears welling in her large, black eyes. A welfare officer's report said she was abandoned soon after she was born. The identity of her mother was unknown.

An old woman who had found the infant gave her the unusual name of 'Puteri Bulan'. It meant 'princess of the moon' in Malay because the old woman had thought the child was 'as beautiful as a moonbeam'. She grew up in poverty and sold fried bananas in the streets to support herself and the woman she called nenek (grandmother) who was almost blind. While in the court lock-up waiting to answer the charge against her Puteri Bulan had listened to gossip among the other prisoners and learnt that the magistrate before whom they would be appearing was 'a good and fair man'. She was also told that he was a bachelor.

Thomas Perason was struck by Puteri Bulan's beauty and was filled with compassion as she stood in the prisoner's dock before him. He said to her, 'I'll let you off with a warning this time, but should you come back before me again i shall have to punish you.' 'Oh, thank you, tuan!' she cried, tears of shame and sadness instantly replaced by tears and joy. Her eyes met his and in the fleeting moment she felt a burning desire to be in his arms. She had also seen in his eyes that he was attracted to her. A thought flashed through her mind : What was it like to be in the arms of an English tuan? She had heard many stories of love 'affairs' between tuans and girls like herself from the kampungs.

As she was leaving the crowded court she glanced over her shoulder at Pearsong and held her breath because she thought his eyes had been following her. She wasn't sure. She hurried to the door and stealing another glance, saw his eyes were still at her. There was no mistake. A shiver of excitement ran through her shapely body. She opened the door and went out. She'd find a way to see him again soo, she told herself. Thomas Pearson couldn't concentrate on his work after he saw Puteri Bulan leave the courtroom. He kept glancing at the door hoping she would return, for any reason at all.

He adjourned court earlier than usual before lunch and went to the Selangor Club. European civil servants and those employed by commercial firms gathered at the bar at the same time each morning after making brief formal appearances at their respective places of work and where most of them remained for the remainder of the day. Pearson had played a few games of darts after lunch, hoping to dismiss Puteri Bulan from his thought. But it was of no use. He phoned his clerk to say he would not be returning to his chambers at the courthouse and decided to go home to his bungalow in picturesque Bukit Damansara where he lived alone with Ali, and old Malay servant who also prepared his meals.

He drove his car slowly on the way home hoping to see her among the crowd in the streets. Once or twice he stopped when he thought he had seen her. The effects of the whisky he had at the Club and the humidity made him feel drowsy. Reaching home he showered and fell asleep in a cane long-chair under a whirring ceiling fan. When he awoke an hour later Ali informed him there was a young woman waiting to see him. 'I told her you were asleep, hoping she would go away but she insisted on waiting. She said she had walked a long way and wished to deliver something personally to you.'

'Where is she now?' 'She's asleep under a mango tree in the garden, tuan. If you looked from the veranda, perhaps you could see her.' said Ali who had become suspicious of the girl's behaviour. Pearson got to his feet and went to the veranda, having no idea who she might be. His heart missed a beat when he saw Puteri Bulan asleep in the shade of the mango tree, her beautiful face caught in a shaft of the afternoon sun that had penetrated a canopy of leaves above. He hurried down the stairs and into the garden. She was awakened by the sound of his approaching footsteps and sat up quickly. Seeing him she jumped to her feet, smiled shyly and said in Malay, 'Forgive me for coming here tuan,' and handed him a small package wrapped in banana leaves. 'Please accept this. Its a gift of fried bananas from my grandmother and myself, a humble expression of our deep gratitude for the mercy you had showed me this morning.'

Turning on her heel, she ran quickly towards the gate hopinghe would call after her. He did. 'Wait! Please don't go away!' he cried. Her heart beat faster. 'Please wait!' he called out again. She halted, turned round slowly and shyly hung her head as he approached. 'Why did you run away like that?' he asked, smiling. 'You didn't give me a chance to thanks you for your gift.' Puteri Bulan smiled, delighted that she had snared him so easily. 'I am shy sir,' she said softly in English. 'You speak English!' said Pearson, pleasently suprised. 'Only a little, sir.' As they spoke, old Ali watched from a distance, concealing his thoughts behind a grim face. 'A waif no doubt from the way she dressed! Barefoot, too! There are lots of better class girls who would like to share the tuan's bed! The young fool will regret this!' he said to himself.

A few days later, Puteri Bulan came to live in the bungalow after Pearson had made arrangements for her grandmother to be admitted to a home for the blind. A misunderstanding with Ali about some trivial matter had provided Puteri Bulan with the opportunity to say to him, 'Listen, old man, I am the tuan's woman. Do as I say or get out!' He had left immediately, not bothering to wait until his employer returned to explained. Puteri Bulan or 'Princess' as Pearson called her, had become a 'kept woman' a term by which all mistresses of Europeans were known. It was considered a prestigious position for a 'native' girl in British colonial times. It meant living in a European home and money to provide food for her family.

Puteri Bulan was aware that life as a mistress would not be easy. Most tuans drank too much and there would always be competition from other aspiring young woman. She would cross those bridges if and when they appeared, she told herself. She had heard about 'the rule' that mistresses were obliged to observe and was aware that her 'affair' with Pearson would end whenever he decided to settle down to a 'respectable married life with an English wife' as other tuans were known to do. When that happened mistresses were usually 'paid off' and retained the clothes and whatever jewellery they had received from their lovers. A monthly cash allowance was paid if there were children. Few tuans had dified another 'rule', one that forbade them marrying their native mistresses. A tuan who broke this rule would loose his job, become ostracised by the European community and spend the rest of his day in the slums with local raiff-raff, White drifters, their native wives and half-caste children and there were many such examples.

A grey-headed tuan who had confessed to having two mistresses in his younger days remarked at the Selangor Club bar one day : 'I think they should have a home for ex-mistresses. There was no hope of these woman marrying or becoming mistresses of any 'local' chap since they bore the stigma of having once been the lovers of the much disliked European tuans. Neither would these women stand much of a chance of being considered by newly-arrived tuans from England, despite their knowledge of 'the ways of the White man' because of the availability of much younger candidates for such positions. Most ex-mistresses were destined to spend the rest of their days in isolation with their illegitimate children and having to survive on paltry incomes. Some became bar waitresses or whores, rather shameful conditions that White men were guilty of creating for their ex-lovers. 'Out East, a White man's folly in his polly', so they say. But, could the White man he be blamed when he was surrounded by such irresistable temptation?'

Pearson appeared to be extreamly happy with his beautiful acquisition and Puteri Bulan doted him. She was popular at 'house parties', having learnt a few classical Malay and Indian dances that she performed with grace and skill. He had hired a retired teacher to tutor her in English and he was as pleased as she with the results. She had learnt popular English love song from the records she played on the gramophone at home the endeared him even more to her.

For two years they had been 'a perfect pair'. He had told her in tender moments that he would be 'totally lost' without her and she would whisper softly, 'If you leave me, I shall die'. His feelings towards her were to change dramatically after he met Iris Foster who had recently arrived from England to take up an appointment as principal of a girl's school. She was a few years younger than him, pleasant and cultured and the niece of Sir Ronald Foster who would soon be appointed ;British Adviser' to the sultan of the state.

Pearson had taken her to lunch a few times and it was obvious they enjoyed each other's company. It had occurred to him that marriage to her would greatly enhance his career in the Malayan legal service in view of her uncle's forthcoming appointment and dreams of becoming solicitor-general or even a High Court judge were not easily dismissed from his mind. People with the 'right connections' became successful. He couldn't imagine himself remaining a lowly police court magistrate all his life. He was attracted to Iris Foster but not in the wild, passionate way that he was attracted to Puteri Bulan. Iris Foster was pleasant, intelligent and English. But more importantly, she had, without realising it, opened his eyes to career possibilities he hadn't seen before. If things 'developed' romantically between them, what was he going to do about Puteri Bulan, he had wondered. She was beautiful, intelligent in her own way and she gave him a kind of sensual love that no other woman could have challenge.

Would she accept the idea of still being his mistress if he married Iris Foster? He knew of some tuans with English wives who still 'carried on' with local mistresses. Such things were done in secret, of course. 'Affairs' between Europeans and native woman were always 'juicy' subjects for gossip and Pearson realised a divorce would shatter all his career dreams. The thought of being sent back to England in disgrace and becoming a junior solicitor with an obscure law firm in foggy London had horrified him, after experiencing the pampered life of a tuan in sunny, beautiful Malaya with all its wonderful temptations.

His meeting with Iris Foster become more frequent. She had come to know about his relationship with Puteri Bulan but had accepted it as 'something all lonely English bachelors did out East'. She had avoided embarrassing him by asking about it. He finally came to a decision : Puteri Bulan would be told the truth. She would have to go because he was going to ask Iris Foster to marry him. He felt the time had come when his future career and happiness had to be considered and after he had given the matter serious consideration he was convinced his decision was correct.

Speaking softly in halting English while making her defence at her trial, Puteri Bulan said, 'On the night he told me he was going to marry the English woman, I was too shocked and too said to speak. It was as though the sunshine had suddenly been blocked out of my life and replaced by darkness. I could feel my heart breaking into little bits and I wanted to die at that very moment. 'He told me that he was sorry our romance had to end so suddenly and offered me some money, which I refused. 'You're young and beautiful.' he told me. 'You could find a nice husband or, I am sure there are other tuans who would be happy to have you.'

'I couldn't believe he was saying such to me. We had loved each other dearly. I walked away from him and went into the moonlit garden. He got his car and drove away. Later, I went upstairs to our bedroom and began to pack my clothes because I had wanted to leave before he returned. It was very late. There were no buses or taxis. I carried my bags to a nearby fruit orchard. I was exhausted and my mind was blank. I spread a mat under a tree and soon fell asleep. I was awakened when I felt my head being gently stroked. I open my eyes and in the moonlight I saw a beautiful woman sitting beside me. 'She kissed my forehead and told me not to be afraid and that she was my mother. I began to cry and she held me close to her. I thought I was dreaming at first but when she told me she had died shortly after giving birth to me and had left me at the door of an old woman's hut. I realised it wasn't a dream.

'She told me she roamed the moonlit skies with the spirits of those who had been cursed to die in childbirth when they had lived as humans. They were called pontianak, half-human creatures who sought revenge and the blood of those who had harmed them. 'Tonight you have become one of us!' she said. 'Because of our lust for blood and revenge in our hearts we are cursed not to know the joys of true and lasting love as had happened to you tonight when your lover rejected you! But revenge shall be yours and I shall always be there to guide and protect you!' Puteri Bulan paused to wipe her tears.

'What happened after that?' asked the English judge. 'My mother embraced and kissed me. I felt her fingers running through my hair and they touched a small lump at the back of my head that i hadn't felt or noticed before and she said,'I found it.. The nail I had inserted into your head when you were born so that you could live as a human! It's time for me to remove it so you could become like me!' 'I felt her remove something from my head and she showed me a small, silver nail... and then she disappeared into the moonlight.' 'And, what were your feelings after that happened?' asked the judge. 'I became frightened, sir,' she said. 'I didn't know what was going to happen to me next. I also felt strangely different and discovered I could move about without my feet touching the ground and I could easily fly up to the branches of the tallest trees! I realised then that I had become a half-human pontianak!'

In a voice that echoed in the large courtroom Reginald Withers, the prosecutor, recounted the 'damning evindence that had established the guilt of Puteri Bulan 'beyond all doubt' as he adressed the jury of seven grim European tuans. He said, 'The extraordinary difference between this murder trial from any other is that the accused, according to her counsel, was in supernatural state when she committed this terrible crime and therefore could not be held responsible for her actions! In other words, this honourable court and members of the jury have been asked to believe Iris Pearson and her unborn child were killed by a demon!'

He took a deep breath and raising his voice, said, 'In all my nineteen years as a senior officer of the High Court I have not heard anything so bizarre, scandalous and outrageously preposterous!' Going up to the dock where Puteri Bulan sat with he head bowed, he boomed, 'She's not a demon or a supernatural creature! Look at her! She is as human as anyone in this courtroom! She was human as she is now and completely concious of her actions when she viciously killed Iris Pearson in cold blood!' He paused to look at the crowed in the packed courtroom and continued, 'While making her defence she told us a fantastic story of meeting her mother who had died after giving birth to her and who is now a pontianak a demon! She also told us how, in the light of the full moon, she was transformed by powers beyond her control into a bird that had a woman's face and long hair and sharp claws and that she was able to fly! And, let us not forget her most fantastic claim, that she had no recollection whatsoever of killing Iris Pearson! These are the preposterous lies she expects this court to believe!

'She was the mistress of Thomas Pearson for two years before he married the deceased. The accused was fully aware that when the time came for their illicit relationship to end, she would have to depart from the comfortable home she had shared with him. And, when she was told that their love affair had come to an end, she was filled with bitterness! Pearson has tried to compensate her with money but his gesture had failed to douse the flames of revenge and hatred within her. Flames that would also devour an innocent woman, Iris Pearson who was five months pregnant when she was butchered by this woman who sits so calmly in the prisoner's dock here today! But, Iris Pearson wasn't the only victim of this heinous crime! It had also destroyed the life of Thomas Pearson. He suffered a serious mental collapse after discovering his wife's horribly mutilated body and the foetus of his unborn child! Since his wife's death, he has been in a mental institution in England where he sits in solitary confinement, a wreck of a man who cannot even remember his name!'

Withers closed the case for the prosecution by saying, 'Witnesses at this trial have described Puteri Bulan as 'pleasant and cheerful,' Looking at her it is difficult for me, as it might also be for members of the jury, to imagine she is a fiendish killer,' The suave and articulate Clarence Wong had read law at Oxford and was the author of many books on Malayan black magic, demons and ancient superstitious beliefs. He had volunteered his sevices for the defence.

Standing in the centre of the courtroom, he bowed to the judge and jury and said with a smile, 'Mr. Withers, the prosecutor, has accused me making 'bizarre, scandalous and outrageously preposterous claims.'What I have attempted to prove is that this regrettable crime was committed by the accused while she was in a supernatural state and therefore cannot be held responsible for her actions. I do not blame the prosecutor for his accusations against me. He did so out of ignorance not of the law but of some of the ancient mystic beliefs and practices of the people of this country and region and on which the defence has based its case.

'From what I gather Mr. Withers has not thought it important to acquaint himself even briefly, with supernatural beliefs, an important ingredient in the culture and daily lives of Asian people. He is typical example of Europeans who come to live in this part of the world and who would dismiss age-old local traditions and beliefs as 'mumbo-jumbo' or 'superstitious nonsense!' But, many millions of people in this country and the region believed that there were half-human females known as pontianak who could transform themselves from beautiful women into large birds with evil human faces and vice versa, who used their razor-sharp claws to rip open the stomachs of pregnant woman whom they had reason to kill and also killed lustful men by depriving them of their manhood! These creatures were sometimes called sundal bolong in Malay, half-human vampires who were beautiful whores from hell!'

He went up to the jury and said, 'Gentlemen, there are a lot of people in this courtroom and outside of it who will agree with me when I say, Puteri Bulan was in the form of a pontianak when she killed Iris Pearson and when she reverted to human form, she had no recollection whatsoever of having committed the crime! It was like a person committing murder while being unsound mind. Such people were not hanged! The law had other ways to dealing with them. i sincerely believe Puteri Bulan is not guilty of the murder of Iris Pearson.

'We have heard in evidence that Puteri Bulan was for two years Thomas Pearson's unofficial wife and she was devoted to him. Then, suddenly one night after they had made passionate love, he told her that it was all over between them because he was going to be married! we would never know the extent of the shock his words had on her! I recall the words of William Congreve the English dramatist that may describe her reaction and I quote,'Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, nor Hell a fury like a woman scorned,' unquote.'

There were gasps and murmurs in the packed courtroom as Clarence Wong continued, 'It is common knowledge that people in sophisticated Western countries are worshippers of Satan and belonged to Satanic cults. There are others who believed that certain people could transform themselves into blood-thirsty vampires like the evil Count Dracula while others became were-wolves who committed gruesome crimes while in supernatural states. Is all fantasy and make believe? Are all the religions wrong when they warn us about the power of evil and the Devil? Are demons that are the servants of Satan, fantastic creations of warped minds? Or, are they real?'

Turning round and pointing a finger at Puteri Bulan, he said,'Here is a living example to prove that the evil of Satan exist among us! Look at her! A beautiful, young woman whose life is possessed by the Devil! She didn't wish that such a terrible thing would happen to her! you have heard her say how the ghostly appearance of her mother who died after giving birth to her, had drastically changed her life! Fantastic as it may seem, gentlemen of the jury, you must believe Puteri Bulan was speaking the truth and that she had no recollection whatsoever of killing Iris Pearson because she was in supernatural state at the time and her actions were controlled by the Devil! I implore upon you, please believe her!' The jury retired and after twenty minutes returned a unanimous verdict of guilty.' When the judge had asked Puteri Bulan if she had anything to say before he sentenced her to death, she shook her head slowly from side to side.

A month later, shortly after dawn on the morning she was to be hanged, there was pandemonium at the Pudu Prison where she was being held. Alarms and whistles sounded and every light was switched on as guards began a frantic search of the old building. Puteri Bulan had escaped. Earlier, when Major James Howard the prison warden, had arrived with an armed guard and unlocked the steel door of her cell to escort her to the gallows, his eyes had bulged in horror and disbelief when he saw the cell was empty.

He swung round and glared at the British sergeant in charge of the escort. 'Alright!' he roared. 'Dammit! Where's the prisoner!' 'I have no idea, sir!' replied the astonished man. Howard looked at the blank faces around him and realised there was something terribly wrong. 'Don't stand there!' he exploaded. 'Sound the bloody alarm! Call the police! Find her!' He looked blankly around him for a few moments. It was an absurd situation to be in. It was grostesque! Unthinkable! He entered the empty cell, a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach and fully aware of the repercussions the incident would cause. He shuddered. It had been his boast at the Selangor Club bar that there had never been an escape from his prison during the seventeen years he had been in charge. In acknowledgement of his services, he was decorated with the Medal of the British Empire (MBE). Speaking about his 'beautiful prisoner, Puteri Bulan', he had told his friends, 'I take delight in making the last days of that bitch's life as unbearable as i possibly could. She'd be happy when the day comes when she has to face the hangman!'

Standing alone in the empty cell, Howard's eyes slowly went from the narrow wooden bed to the cement floor, the walls and the ceiling and came to rest on the small, barred window close to the ceiling. he could see something had become lodged between the iron bars but couldn't make out what it was. He stood on the bed and was shocked to see it was a black feather that had obviously belonged to a large bird. He also noticed there were deep scratches that appeared to be freshly made in the plaster at the base of the window. 'Impossible! Nothing! Not even a bloody cockroach could have entered this cell!' he said softly to himself as perspiration trickled down his face because the discovery of the feather and scratches were clues, but ones that only deepened the mystery of Puteri Bulan's disappearance.

He stared at the feather in his hand for some time and recalled what she had said at her trial 'she could transform herself into a bird'. 'Bloody mumbo-jumbo!' he muttered. Then he asked himself, ;But... the feather... to whom did it belong?' His jaw sagged and he felt cold all over. 'Good God! What that bitch had said at her trial was true!' he gasped. 'The evil, black whore!' He felt his knees giving way under the weight of his fat, round body. He backed against the wall of the cell, sliding down it slowly. He sat helplessly on the floor and felt like crying. He got to his feet unsteadily as he heard excited voices coming from the prisoner's exercise yard below. He staggered towards the guardroom. Looking out of a window he saw armed police and European officers running about. 'Jesus Christ!' he panted. 'I'll be laughed out of town if I told them that she had changed into a bird an escaped and left me a souvenir of one of her feathers!'

He slumped into a cane chair and withdrew the revolver from the holster attached to his belt, tears flooding his eyes. He was going to save himself from disgrace. He had placed the barrel of the gun to his head and was about to squeeze the trigger when he saw her! He lowered the weapon slowly, his mouth and throat suddenly dry with fear. She was standing in the doorway of the guardroom dressed in a beautiful, shimmering turquoise gown. Her eyes suddenly turned the colour of blood and her face was transformed into a white mask of hate. At that moment he heard the heavy footsteps of policemen climbing the stone steps and a voice calling out, 'Major Howard, are you there?'

He was still clutching the revolver in his right hand when they discovered him on the floor of the Guard Room. His face was contorted in fear, as though he had seen something horrifying in the last moments of his life. The revolver in his hand had not been fired. His khaki trousers around his waist and thighs were soaked in blood. They found his genitals in a corner of the room. Evidence was produced at a coroner's inquiry to show that he had died of 'a self-inflicted bullet wound to the head'. A verdict of 'suicide' was recorded. There had been no mention of his gruesome injuries and the heavy loss of blood that caused his death. There had also been no mention of the discovery of a black feather that police found on the floor of Puteri Bulan's empty cell.

Months later, Iris Pearson's grisly murder, the mysteriously escape of Puteri Bulan from prison and the strange circumstances surrounding the death of Major Howard wee still being spoken about at the bar of the Selangor Club. Some sceptics had thought the police had 'done a good job concealing the facts and hushing-up the case', One such person was Wakefield, a retired army captain, who knew Howard well. He had said, 'Nobody was brave enough to tell the truth at the coroner's inquiry the fact that Howard was killed by a pontianak who was none other than Puteri Bulan!'

Someone said, 'Good lord! Are you suggesting that he didn't shoot himself and that this woman who had escaped, returned in supernatural form to kill him?' 'Precisely', said Wakefield. 'Howard was about to blow his brains out that morning after her escape because he knew he wouldn't be able to face the responsibility for her escape and the disgrace. Then, something happened.. and he died in a most agonising manner... the way in which a pontianak would have killed men they hated by destroying their manhood! I've lived in this country long enough to know about such things! Howard had confessed to me one night when he was drunk that Puteri Bulan was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He desired her madly and enjoyed peeping at her while she was bathing and yet he hated her because he realised there was no way that he could have satisfied his lust for her. He once said to me, 'Think of the scandal if somebody found out that i was sleeping with a condemned female prisoner! She knew I desired her but that I didn't have the guts to do anything about it! She did her best to taunt me! The evil bitch!' In accordance with normal police procedure at the time, a reward of $100 was offered for 'the recapture or for information leading to the arrest of Puteri Bulan, convict No. 257122D'. She was not seen or heard again.

For some years later, lovers strolling along the footpaths in scenic Bukit Damansara on moonlit nights would sometimes see a beautiful young woman wandering sadly alone beneath the trees... and suddenly the air would be filled with the scent of frangipani and jasmine. They would see her pause and look tearfully at an abandoned colonial-style bungalow and move on until she disappeared in the moon's silver light.