To Catch a Spy

By | December 1, 2009

Isaoko Kosaka and his petite wife Keseiko operated a small refreshment parlour at the corner of Potenciana and Cabildo streets in the mid 30’s inside the Walled City of Intramuros.  Cabildo was a very busy street while Potenciana led to two big churches where daily devotees would pass in varying groups.  The couples could have never chosen a more ideal location for such type of business.

 

                The refreshment parlour was neat and clean.  It had five small square wooden tables, each table can sit four.  A little bit cramped but customers would not stay long after getting their orders.  Like a stand-up coffee counter. Customers were encouraged not to stay long to give way to other patrons.  This parlour offered sweet bean with syrup for toppings.  Customers delighted in it and they would come back several times to savour the beans delight, with the Japanese version of moon cakes or hopia to finish it off.  Added to Japanese ambiance were Japanese sumi drawings, lanterns and bonsai trees.

 

                As years rolled by, the childless couple ran the place with the same vigour as when they first came, and locals became used to the place as a regular hangout, except for one, Mang Eloy.

 

                A Sherlock Holmes admirer, Mang Eloy, tried to emulate the fictional sleuth by keen observation and deduction.  He observed that Isaoko Kosaka was a camera bug and had an expensive camera with high powered lens.  In his mind, that man had a sinister purpose, aside from the fact that the prized camera and accessories could not be his own.

                Isaoko and Keseiko were very friendly to their customers, but they were never close to any of them.  The couple, many felt, could afford a helper but never hired one.  They did all the work themselves from retailing and cleaning the parlour.  Later, due to big demand, the parlour supplies were delivered by Japanese in a motorcycle.

 

                To Mang Eloy, the self-made sleuth, these observations pointed to an evil conspiracy.  His imagination grew wilder as he made a closer scrutiny of the couple’s behaviour. ”Elementary”, he would say, buy he had no audience.

 

                One day, a man in leather jacket with a small cropped hair loitered for a while several doors from the refreshment parlour at the corner.  He carried no briefcase, nor a camera.  Mang Eloy saw this man as he was drinking his cup of hot java.  Again, his inquisitiveness took over and asked the man what his business was.

 

                “I am from immigration and I want to make a neighbourhood check on the Japanese couple who operates the refreshment parlour”, the man said.  “I want to know the couple’s movements which seemed to be suspicious”.

 

                “Sir”, replied Mang Eloy, “you’re not from immigration why you do want to know the couple’s actions, visitors and connections”.

                “Well, I’m sorry I try to put a cover for myself.  I’m really from Sangley Point and I need your help” the man declared.

                “That’s better.  In that case, I will see if I can help you. From time to time, their co-nationals picked them up during holidays when the parlour is closed.  By midnight,

they would return”, Mang Eloy revealed.

 

                They spent hours talking and apparently satisfied; the man in jacket gave Mang Eloy some cash and cigarettes with American seals with an instruction not to mention their meeting.  He was advised to hang around the place and the man would return.

                With the cash, Mang Eloy took his wife to the parlour and ordered the famous sweetened beans with scraped ice and cream.  Kikay was surprised why her stingy husband suddenly became generous, but she kept quiet though.

 

                On certain evenings, Mang Eloy would see army servicemen in the parlour accompanied by women with painted faces.  Most of the American servicemen were in civilian clothes but their work could not be denied.

 

                During the out of city trips, Mang Eloy, was able to jot down the plate numbers of the vehicle used, and a little description of the visitors.  He even got the plate number of the tricycle delivering the foodstuffs for the couple. 

 

                One day, the man in the jacket returned, this time wearing short sleeves shirt and tagging a portfolio.  The two again conferred and took notes.  The man gave him more cash and he was given some instructions to follow.  Again, “mum” was the word.  Before he left the man told Mang Eloy that the vehicle’s plate number he gave him belonged to Japanese embassy.

 

                By 1943, Mang Eloy observed that the parlour was opened only two times a week.  The couple would be picked up by a car and they would be back late at night.  Many customers were wondering on the irregular operation of the parlour.  From the agent, Mang Eloy learned that the man in the tricycle was a courier of the espionage net operating in Intramuros.

 

                Three months before the outbreak of the Pacific war, rumours of war were already circulating in some circles for the tensions in American-Japanese relations.  One late evening, Mang Eloy was sitting by the sidewalk when a truck stops in front of the parlour.  In half an hour, all the properties were loaded in the truck and by that time, a black limousine came.

 

                The couple got into the car, together with the big truck left the premises.

 

                Mang Eloy wanted to inform the informant but didn’t know how.  A day later, the agent came.

 

                “You did not give me instructions where to contact you”, explained Mang Eloy.” Here’s the plate numbers of the truck”.

 

                It’s too late now, the master spy has escaped our dragnet and they are on their way back to Tokyo” replied the agent.

 

                The two went to the empty parlour used as front by the couple.  There was room used for photography processing, and a shelf to hold a radio transmitter.  The antenna lead-in wires were still there.  The place was swept clean like the refreshment parlour.  No other evidence was left behind

 

                The two left the premises and the agent thanked Mang Eloy and left hurriedly.  He did not leave any cash or even a packed of cigarettes for Mang Eloy.  The object of the hunt was gone.

 

                All alone, Mang Eloy walked slowly in the dark night towards his house, he was dejected not because of his failure to catch a spy but worried that his wife would be screaming for staying out so late at night.