Dead in Exile.

He was a shadowy figure from a colonial past.  He might have called the shots at the pinnacle of his "cause" but that was easily twenty years before I was born.  I did not know his name or the face which goes with the name.  History (at least, the history I knew) had him under wraps.  To all intents and purposes, the man did not exist. The first time I heard about him was when I was working at a legal firm in the city more than thirty years ago.

When you work in a large firm with a huge staff force, the central point of reverence is usually held by the formidable Office Grapevine. Delightfully intangible and immensely fluid, this gathering of "intelligence" is the pulse of the firm.  It needs no meeting place or agenda and could be summoned at will.  It was here that I first heard about him.

That he was what he was, wasn't the interesting part.  My employers were a partnership of lawyers who were the glitterati at the city.  They had political clout and their influence wasn't modest.  There were seven of them and it is on the seventh (Mr O) that my interest lies.

Mr O was a young man in his late thirties, fair of complexion and well built.  Unlike the rest of the partners, he was quiet in speech and kept mostly to himself.  Clients complained about having to meet  him in the dark of his room.  His benefactor (Guardian) was the fourth partner who later became a magistrate at the High Court.  At six-monthly intervals, this Guardian receives an important call. According to his secretary in a subsequent hush-hush cloak and dagger grapevine session, the call came from Federal agents.  Mr O (and his brother) was separated from their parents and brought up by the Federal Government.  They were given tertiary education and had their names changed to protect their identity  Mr O was the son of Chin Peng.

Update: Mr O is currently one  of the Conveyancing Lawyers for the local banking industry.