“Alicia’s mother, Señora Carzino-Cormano—”
“The family is Italian?” The Graf’s tone suggested he didn’t like that either.
“Not the way you suggest. They’re like Americans down there. They immigrated from all over Europe, they intermarried. They don’t think of themselves as Germans, or Italians, or English, or whatever, but as Argentinians.”
“But they speak Spanish?”
“Yes, but they’re not like the Spaniards. They’re Argentine.”
“Interesting. What about her mother?”
“Señora Carzino-Cormano had a very close relationship with Oberst Frade….”
“Indeed? With the approval of their respective mates? That sounds Italian.”
“Both mates, Poppa, were dead.”
“But they didn’t marry?”
“They had their reasons, one of which has to do with Argentine inheritance laws.”
“She was, in other words, his mistress?”
“Are you determined to disapprove of these people, Poppa?”
“I would like to know about the family of a girl my son wishes to marry.”
“There are two Carzino-Cormano daughters. One of them had an understanding with Hauptmann Duarte, who was killed at Stalingrad. That’s how I came to meet Alicia.”
“I see.”
“When I went to Oberst Frade for help, I presume he confided in Señora Carzino-Cormano.”
“Everything?”
“I suppose everything. They were like husband and wife.”
“Except they weren’t married.”
“It would have been impossible for Oberst Frade to help me—help us—Poppa, without her knowing. They’re helping me because they know that I could not honorably permit Cletus Frade to be murdered.”
“The more people who know a secret, Hansel, the less chance there is to keep it a secret.”
“I trust these people with my life, Poppa.”
“You don’t have much choice, do you?”
Peter met his father’s eyes for a long moment. “You would like Alicia, Poppa. You would like all of them.”
“If you say so,” the Graf said. “What was—what is—the reaction of your Alicia to what you’re doing?”
“She’s frightened.”
“She should be.”
“She wants me to go to Brazil and turn myself in as a prisoner of war.”
“That may be the wise thing to do. That’s possible?”