“I don’t know what to say, frankly, Juan Domingo,” Duarte said.
“Then say nothing, Humberto,” Perón said, coldly angry. “Or perhaps, ‘Thank you, Cletus.’ ”
“Thank him for insulting a man who not only is a close personal friend but one of the most respected members of the bar?”
Perón looked at Duarte a long moment with an expression that Frade thought could have bordered on contempt, then said: “If he’s one of the most respected members of the bar, I shudder for the legal system of Argentina. Good God, Humberto. Didn’t you hear what was said? Ostensibly as our attorney he said nothing when Seguro Comercial, whose attorney he also is, took our money to insure aircraft that we don’t even have. Did you hear that or not?”
“I heard it, Juan Domingo, and obviously that was wrong. But there are other ways to deal with it than the way—”
“And didn’t you just hear me say that the way to deal with such problems is to see them clearly—admit to them—then deal with them as brutally as necessary, paying no attention to our personal feelings?”
Duarte nodded slowly. “I heard you, Juan.”
Jesus Christ, Frade thought, where did all that come from?
And that wasn’t Tío Juan taking care of me.
He was as mad at Dowling as I was.
Frade’s eyes turned to Father Welner, who was looking at him with a strange expression.
Perón said, “May I suggest, señor managing director, that we now turn our attention to the insurance problem?”
“Ernesto took the Lloyd’s of London radiogram with him,” Claudia said.
“Well, why not?” Frade said. “It wasn’t addressed to us anyway. But we know what it said.”
Perón said, “The goddamn English are behind that, Cletus. I’m sure of it.”
Frade looked as if in thought, then said, “Before we turn to the problem, there’s one thing I would like to do.”
“I’m almost afraid to ask what that is,” Claudia said.
Frade formally announced: “The chair moves the election of Captain Delgano to the board of directors.”
“Splendid idea,” Perón said.
“I’ll take that as a second,” Frade said. “Are there any other comments?”
No one said anything.
“Are there any objections?”
The handle of the knife caused the water pitcher to resonate shrilly.
“Hearing none, the motion carries,” Frade said. “Welcome to the board, Gonzalo.”
“I don’t remember being asked if I wanted to be, as your grandfather would put it, window dressing,” Delgano said.
“You didn’t have to,” Frade said. “I read minds.”
Frade looked at Duarte. “Okay, Humberto, tell us what you think is really going on, presuming you agree with me that it has nothing to do with the qualifications of our pilots?”
“If I may, Cletus,” Perón said. “As I said, the British are behind this.”
“Explain that to me, please.”
“Before the war, the British controlled the Argentine railroads. They were already talking back then about either taking over Aeropostal or starting their own airline. That had to be delayed by the war, but there is no question that that is still their intention. From their viewpoint—I am not among those who think the British will win this war—they see two obstacles to doing that. Varig and Pan American Grace—”