Santiago Moltó had a plan. He was to return in style and this time more clever than ever. Politicians, artists, and the rich and famous would have to accept his power once again. He was willing to do anything. Fame was a dark yet desired memory that he could not get rid of. His name had disappeared in the newspapers, magazines, and television, as did the glamour now that the ephemeral glitter of the flashes had stopped. And of him, this once great journalist master, there only remained an obese shadow, drunk and miserable. They never forgave him for uncovering the big Finansa fraud in which the government, opposing party and the Church were all involved. They took everything away from him so that he was forgotten. But this time he could not fail. He was going to return and he had a plan.
Santiago Moltó tenía un plan. Iba a volver por todo lo alto. Más hábil y sagaz que nunca. Políticos, ricos, artistas y famosos tendrían que aceptar nuevamente su poder. Estaba dispuesto a todo. La fama era un tenebroso aunque muy ansiado recuerdo que no podía desechar. Su nombre había desaparecido de los periódicos, de las revistas, de la televisión, sin glamour, sin el resplandor efímero de los flashes. Y de él, el gran maestro del periodismo, solo quedó una sombra obesa, tan ebria como miserable. Jamás le perdonaron que pusiese al descubierto el gran fraude de Finansa, donde estuvieron implicados Gobierno, Oposición e Iglesia. Le quitaron todo hasta dejarlo en el olvido. Pero esta vez nada podía fallar. Iba a volver. Tenía un plan.
