After I put down the phone, I rang the offices of El Mundo and asked for the library. I had done this a few months earlier when I was looking for a back issue. I had explained who I was—a political and economic adviser to various American oil companies—and asked if I could have a look at their files. Once more the voice at the other end was intensely polite and helpful; suddenly I felt happy and warm as I arranged to call at the offices of El Mundo within half an hour.

The librarian was standing with his back to me at a table when I came in. When he turned, he smiled and shook my hand. I told him that I was looking for any files or cuttings he might have on Carlos Menem. He laughed in a half-puzzled, half-knowing sort of way. I have it here in front of me, he said. You’re the third person to ask for it in a few days. It’s just been put back. Is he in the oil business too, he asked. No, I said, he’s a politician.

He handed me a thin file and said he had something else to do, so I could read it and photocopy any of it if I wanted. He shook my hand again and left the room. I felt cheered by his friendliness, the ease with which he seemed to operate. I sat down and began to pick my way through the life and times of Carlos Menem. The first thing I took note of was his hairstyle and his long and elaborate sideburns. All the photographs were of him smiling, or laughing, or play-acting, or standing beside a beautiful woman, or even between several beautiful women. Six months earlier he had made a speech about the need for resources to be plowed into the provinces rather than the capital, and then more recently he had called on the government to begin negotiations with the International Monetary Fund about restructuring the national debt. There was a short news item with no date on it reporting his declaration that he would be a candidate in the next presidential election. The report referred to him as an ex-Peronist.