Clinique Bois-Cerf, Lausanne, Switzerland, 20 July 1945
Denis De Rougemont followed the doctor down the hall on the last leg of a long journey. Months ago, while visiting Peru on behalf of his paper, L’Impartial, he had heard a rumor pertaining to a burning political question, “Where is Orlando Baylon?”
The former prime minister of Peru and well-respected internationalist had disappeared earlier in the year, leading to a political crisis in that country that had been only partially resolved by the assumption of power by the military. At a café in Callao an informant had confided that Baylon had left the country in secret for reasons of health; when De Rougemont had pressed for more information his contact could offer little, save that Baylon was believed to have gone to Europe. Before returning home De Rougemont had dug for what he could find, uncovering clues that suggested some veracity to these rumors.
Running them down had taken much time, but a chance meeting in Lausanne had brought him to the Clinique Bois-Cerf, a well-known, well-respected, private hospital. There he had, at first, been greeted with the bland admission that yes, Baylon was a patient, but could see no visitor; and no, the staff could not discuss anything regarding the reason why Baylon had come or what the nature of his illness might be. De Rougemont had been persistent, asking for the opportunity to obtain the answer to the question that burned bright in the minds of politicians across a continent. Finally, his chance had come.
The doctor stopped at the door of a private ward and spoke. “I reiterate – no more than ten minutes.” De Rougemont nodded assent. The doctor opened the door to reveal a gaunt and frail-looking Baylon laying on a bed, a nurse sitting quietly to the side of the room in case of emergency. The patient looked to be asleep and De Rougemont looked to the doctor inquiringly.
“He arrived in early January,” the physician explained. “Our diagnosis confirmed he was suffering from lung cancer, and it had reached an advanced stage. We had hoped that a single surgery might remove all the infected tissue, but this proved impossible. A second surgery was performed in March, which left Monsieur Baylon much weakened. His post-surgical treatments continue…”
De Rougemont asked, “After four months?”
The doctor sighed quietly. “He is responding, but slowly… and the prognosis is not too favorable.”
Baylon moved, reacting to the voices in the room. “Who is there?” he said weakly.
“I have brought a visitor,” the doctor explained. “He wishes but a few moments of your time.”
De Rougemont introduced himself, and with as much delicacy as he could muster explained why he had sought out the Peruvian leader, touching as little as possible on the political situation in his homeland.
“I know what has happened in my country,” Baylon acknowledged, “my doctors have not kept me from the facts. I had hoped that might condition was better than it proved to be, and once in their hands they acted quickly to save my life; though my absence brought down my government. Galvez should have acted to replace me; why he did not, I do not know.”
De Rougemont inquired if Baylon was aware of the current situation in Peru.
“The doctors do not tell me everything, but yes, I know that Odría has taken charge. He is an honorable man – not like Diaz. Of course I detest the military taking control of the government, but if Odría has promised elections, I believe that they will be held. I doubt very much I will return to the hall of parliament, but I hope one day – if my doctors permit – to return to my country.”
The doctor laid a hand on De Rougemont’s shoulder. “It is time,” he said.
The journalist took his leave of Baylon, his mind whirling about writing a story that would grab headlines around the world. He could now answer the question everyone was asking.