In December 2003, Chilean investigative reporter Carola Fuentes received a call she never expected. The attorney for the victims of Paul Schaefer had a tip on where the No. 1 wanted man in Chile was hiding. Schaefer had set up Colonia Dignidad , an infamous German religious compound in southern Chile where he sexually abused children and helped the regime of military dictator Augusto Pinochet torture and kill dissidents. Schaefer had slipped the authorities and vanished without a trace in 1997, but the lawyer said he had a clue to his location.

Fuentes and her editors at CONTACTO, a television program known in Chile for its innovative investigations, were intrigued. It was a tenuous lead—there was no proof that the 83-year-old Schaefer was even alive. But if it led to something—tracing Schaefer’s escape from justice, or even his capture—it would be a major coup for CONTACTO, perhaps the biggest in the program’s 12-year history. Patricia Bazán Cardemil, CONTACTO’s executive editor, asked Fuentes to pursue the story.

As Fuentes began to investigate, she traced the lead to a small enclave of Schaefer’s bodyguards—and possibly Schaefer himself—in Chivilcoy, Argentina. However, Fuentes could pursue it no further because as a Chilean she might raise the Germans’ suspicions. So Bazán Cardemil assigned a veteran staff investigative reporter of Italian descent, Gustavo Villarrubia, to the story.

Under the supervision of Editor Pilar Rodríguez , the news team decided that, despite risks of discovery and some ethical qualms, it made sense to send Villarrubia to Chivilcoy undercover. He would pose as a sociologist researching Italian immigration to the area. When he arrived in January 2004, Villarrubia was able to win the trust of residents and lived for extended periods of time near La Solita, a ranch occupied by Germans where he suspected Schaefer was hiding.

The next six months were frustrating, as dead ends multiplied; more than once Bazán Cardemil considered canceling the project. Moreover, as the danger mounted that Villarrubia might be discovered, the team repeatedly questioned whether it was wise to leave the reporter in harm’s way. Was this a matter for police, or for reporters? Nor were all team members comfortable with undercover reporting. Did the end justify the means? Or was it a deceptive practice?

Finally in July 2004, Villarrubia stumbled across plausible proof that Schaefer was living in Chivilcoy and, by the end of the year, he and Fuentes had established Schaefer’s location. The search was over, but now what? Should CONTACTO notify the police? If so, which police—Argentine? Chilean? International? Bazán Cardemil had always intended to involve police, but suddenly it seemed risky. In 1997, Schaefer had likely escaped Chile after an ally in the government or police force had tipped him off. The television news team had to assume that Schaefer had similar ties in Argentina. No one wanted to see him disappear a second time.

One option was to approach Interpol, the international police organization, but this posed a problem as well. What if Interpol did not allow CONTACTO to film the moment of Schaefer’s arrest? After a year of laborious investigation, this seemed too high a price to pay. But to report on Schaefer’s whereabouts without police involvement was also risky. If there was violence or he fled again, CONTACTO could be held responsible.

Meanwhile, Villarrubia’s presence in Chivilcoy had finally awakened the suspicions of Schaefer’s German entourage. CONTACTO had to move soon, or lose all it had worked toward for a year.