The old man waits in a rented mansion on an exclusive estate in Surrey. Next Wednesday, Gen Augusto Pinochet will learn whether Jack Straw, the British Home Secretary, has decided to allow him to return home to Chile.
The case is bedevilled by the demands of conflicting political, economic and moral interests. Madeleine Albright, the American Secretary of State, has asked for the elderly dictator to be sent home on the grounds that his trial in Spain could have disastrous repercussions in Chile. There is also, many people suspect, the fact that the US does not want the secrets of its own role in the coup which overthrew President Allende to be revealed.
British Conservatives plead for compassion and argue that trade with Chile could be damaged. The Left regards the decision by the Law Lords as an important victory for the cause of human rights and hopes that this may accelerate progress towards the setting-up of an international tribunal where nobody, no matter how rich and powerful, will be safe from prosecution for torture and injustice.
Within the British Labour Party there are urgent and compelling voices demanding the general's extradition. If Jack Straw cherishes hopes of leading his party one day, he cannot afford to ignore them.
Beyond these arguments, the case of Gen Pinochet raises, in the most dramatic way, the dilemma which faces all societies struggling to emerge from a history of bitter conflict. Is the cause of progress towards democracy best served by drawing a line under the past, or is peace more firmly secured by an officially endorsed effort to investigate recent history?
Should victims and their families be encouraged to forget and forgive; or is it crucially important, for the dignity of those who have suffered, to learn as much of the truth as possible in order to allow them to lay their loved ones to rest?
The implications for Northern Ireland, where the peace process has been bogged down in a quagmire of mutual enmity and mistrust, are so important that this debate is worth examining in some detail. Few of those who want to see Gen Pinochet returned home seriously expect him to stand trial in Chile.
They argue that democracy was restored in that country only because all parties agreed to put the past firmly behind them. That included allowing Gen Pinochet not only to claim immunity from prosecution but giving him a measure of respect.
If that fragile balance of powers is disturbed, they say, there is a real danger of political progress in Chile being destabilised. Those who make this argument include members of the present government who suffered exile during his regime.
Against this there are many, many people who argue that the victims of Gen Pinochet's torture gangs cry out to world opinion for justice. If Chile is ever to build a stable democracy, then the sufferings of the past must be given public recognition. Otherwise, the bitterness will fester beneath and infect the body politic in a way which ensures that conflict breaks out again.
We have seen this drama played out in other countries. Some have decided that the fastest way to make progress towards the future is to make a concerted effort to forget the past. But such attempts at collective amnesia are fraught with peril. The most obvious example is Yugoslavia, where Tito's determination to ignore the ethnic conflicts of the Balkans brought stability in the short term, but signally failed to secure long-term reconciliation.
Other places have tried courageously to come to terms with recent history through a process of official investigation. Guatemala and El Salvador both established truth commissions which involved making political compromises on immunity from prosecution in order to allow the stories of past injustice to be told publicly.
We have also heard at first hand from some of those involved in the Truth and Reconciliation Commission in South Africa why that country felt that such a process was necessary to the building of peace and stability, and the risks involved.
A few weeks ago I was privileged to hear Archbishop Desmond Tutu, who chaired the South African Commission, speak in Dublin. He admitted the risks involved and the criticisms that have been made of a process which allowed amnesty to the perpetrators of crimes in exchange for their giving evidence about what had happened during the long years of the struggle against apartheid.
But he also described the impact of that telling of individual stories, the interactions of those who had inflicted suffering and of the victims, and his own belief that this was necessary to the process of reconciliation.
Northern Ireland still has to decide how to deal with the history of the past 30 years. On the one hand we are told, in the wake of every tragedy, to forget and look forward positively to the future. Tony Blair, in his speech to the Oireachtas last week, spoke of Ireland and the UK as being "grown up" countries now and thus able to "put our histories behind us".
There is an impression that the main thing that needs to be done to secure the peace process is to forge ahead as quickly as possible with implementing the political structures of the Belfast Agreement.
Keeping up the momentum towards working local democracy is important. But the bitterness and the profound mistrust which are the legacy of history will not be healed by political action alone.
It is this legacy which underlies the present impasse and creates constant problems on the political front. It will have to be dealt with in a way which allows the hidden stories of the past 30 years to be brought to light.
Already there is a growing recognition that the victims of violence need to be acknowledged in a much more structured and positive way. Sir Kenneth Bloomfield, appointed by Mo Mowlam to examine the needs of victims, has published his report, "We Will Remember Them". Its main service has been to highlight the complexities of the issue and the sensitivities that will have to be acknowledged in any public act of remembrance.
But as well as this people are entitled to answers to the large questions about what happened and why - on Bloody Sunday, to those who have disappeared and whose bodies have never been recovered, and in countless other tragedies. The truth is necessary, in Northern Ireland as well as Chile, to the building of a lasting peace.