Terrific article by Javier Ayuso, in which he explains some of the mysteries that surround the story of “Little Nicolás”, a 20-year-old con artist whose arrest recently shocked Spain’s society:

Soon after, Fran, Nicolás or whatever his name may be (conmen tend to use different names) made another noteworthy appearance on the balcony of Pinto City Hall, during a tribute to the cyclist Alberto Contador. He managed to get up there by passing himself off as the Marquis of Togores and an assistant at the Office of the Deputy Prime Minister. He had been using the title of Marquis of Togores for months to get into the elite Puerta de Hierro Club and impress his lunch guests.

Also, don’t miss the side-story, where we learn how he managed to atteend King Felipe VI’s coronation ceremony and even shake the monarch’s hand:

Invitations for the reception at the Royal Palace were sent by email given that there was not enough time to send out printed versions to the more than 2,500 guests. But the email contained a scanned, personalized invitation. Nicolás never received such a personalized invitation, instead entering the reception as the guest of businesswoman Catalina Hoffman. The pair appear in a now-infamous photo greeting the new king.

You can’t make this stuff up. The whole mess is so unreal that it feels like a shameless ripoff of Catch Me If You Can.

I thought this story, incredible as it is, would slowly die after his arrest, but here comes the twist:

But now, Francisco Nicolás Gómez Iglesias, who was born in Madrid in 1994, has decided to “spill the beans.” He is threatening to disclose sensitive information while shamelessly asserting that he works with the CNI, the government and the royals. He also claims to be in possession of evidence that will back up all his statements, and has announced a series of television appearances to discuss all these issues. He also made a point of stating (up to 10 times at one point) that he would do it for free, even as rumors circulated that the production company Mandarina had paid him €100,000 to appear on its program.

I guess we’ll find out. One way or another — whether in a courtroom or a TV set — the truth will come out eventually. Now I’m just missing some popcorn.