And when Americans came to the city I would learn everything I could about possible investments, about small banks and subsidiaries of oil companies which were likely to become very profitable once certain changes were made in the industry. It was a slow process; for months on end nothing happened, and then one day the prices would start to move. It would just be a line of small print on one of the back pages of a newspaper, but Señor Canetto would notice it and I would notice it and we would know immediately whether to buy or sell. He introduced me to a friend who worked in an investment bank who agreed to lend me the value of the shares I already had at a good rate of interest. When I sat opposite this man in his office I did not feel that I was playing a role. I knew what I was talking about. I knew that he would give me the money, and I knew how easy it would be to make the repayments. By the time Carlos Menem was elected, between the money I had made from the first Federico Arenas deal and loans organized by Señor Canetto, I had borrowed a hundred thousand dollars, but my assets were more than double that, and increasing all the time.

I bought Italian suits and expensive shoes and shirts and designer ties, and I promised myself that some day soon I would have the apartment redecorated or I would move somewhere new and bright and I would stop leaving clothes all over the floor and greasy plates on the dining room table. One day Susan asked me if she and Jorge could use my apartment during the day when I was not there. I told her how untidy it was. I told her that the paint was peeling off the walls. I gave her a key. That night I cleared a load of junk out of the spare room. I changed the sheets on the bed and I swept the floor and then washed it. The curtains were musty and loose, and the paintwork was old, the wardrobe was like an oversized coffin. Nonetheless, I thought that they might like the room. I enjoyed the idea of them making love here, or, at least, I thought I did. I never let myself think about it enough to be sure.

Pablo was working with his father, but neither he nor Jorge knew anything about the stock market. Jorge had become an expert in currency fluctuation, and sometimes this was useful. When we had sold shares and possessed some spare cash we could move the money from one currency to another, let it earn some more for us—Jorge never seemed to make mistakes—and then reinvest it when the time was right.