Perón neither looked at Peter for a translation nor immediately replied. Finally, he said: “The murder of the man who was poised to become President of Argentina cannot be—and should not be—forgotten easily.”
“I am well aware of that, Juan Domingo,” von Deitzberg said sadly.
“I will have a word with my friends,” Perón said. “More important, with my godson. In very many ways, he is like his father, and his father was capable of staying very angry for a very long time.”
“In his place, I would feel the same way,” von Deitzberg said. “But he has had his revenge, has he not?”
Perón took a long moment to reply.
“I will have to think about this, Manfred,” he said. “Would you be willing to offer the apology of the German officer corps to him personally? That might be necessary.”
“Privately, you mean?”
“Yes, of course privately.”
Von Deitzberg appeared to be thinking that over very carefully. “If you think that would be necessary, Juan Domingo, of course I would.”
Perón grunted.
“I think enough has been said for now,” he said. “Let me think about this.”
“Of course.”
“Personally, Manfred, I very much appreciate your coming to me like this.”
“I very much appreciate your receiving me,” von Deitzberg said.
“You’ll be at the Alvear Plaza?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll telephone you there,” Perón said, “and let you know….”
“Thank you, Juan Domingo.”
“In the old days,” Perón said, “that is to say, before my friend was murdered, I would have asked you to stay here, in this house. My friends, so to speak, were his friends. And his friends, my friends. But this house is now the property of Mayor Frade, and that’s quite out of the question.”
“I completely understand, Juan Domingo.”
“I’ll call you at the Alvear,” Perón repeated, then looked at Peter. “I understand, my young friend, that you have been seen at the Alvear yourself, in the roof garden, with a lovely young woman.”
The discussion of an apology is now obviously over.
“I plead guilty, mi Coronel.”
“You are aware, are you, that the young woman’s sister was the next thing to engaged to the late Capitán Duarte?”
“Yes, Sir, I am.”
“You could do a lot worse than Alicia Carzino-Cormano,” Perón said. “And this war won’t last forever.”
“Mi Coronel,” Peter said. “My relationship with Señorita Carzino-Cormano is not anywhere—”
“The person who saw the way she looked at you in the roof garden is in this room, Mayor von Wachtstein,” Perón said, smiling warmly. “But I appreciate your discretion.”
“We will not take any more of your time, Juan Domingo,” von Deitzberg said.
Perón looked at his wristwatch.