If you think banking is boring, think again.
Ever wondered why your bank asks you: what you do for a living, where does your money come from – or how much you earn? The bank staff could be trying to sell you something but it’s more likely they are trying to find out do you have unexplained wealth. Do you?
Why do some people seem to live lavishly yet never seem to own anything? It could be good old fashioned hard work or not. They don’t hide wealth, they hide where the money came from and they hide ownership.
Where does your money come from? It doesn’t sound sexy – but it’s irresistible, isn’t it? We’re drawn to the ingenuity of concealment, especially when it comes to criminals. From mafia dons to corrupt politicians and slick white-collar masterminds, there’s something fascinating about how they hide what’s theirs in plain sight.
Not so fun facts:
2021: The UN estimated 5% of global GDP ( US$2 trillion) is laundered each year.
2022: The Australian Federal Police estimated, a Sydney criminal gang was laundering $1 million every hour for three to five hours on some days.
In my novels, financial crime, especially money laundering, isn’t just background noise. It’s the pulse of the plot, the thread that binds personal stories of ambition, greed and human frailty. Some readers skim over the technicalities, while others are drawn in deeper, captivated by the puzzle. I’m one of those people who has been drawn into this world. To me, it’s the ultimate cat-and-mouse game.
After nearly thirty years in banking and finance, I’ve seen how the world behind the systems and spreadsheets really works. It’s a battle fought in the shadows – fraud and risk teams chasing criminals while sales executives chase bonuses. Banks want to protect their integrity, yet can’t ignore the profits tied to extraordinary wealth. Those internal debates, a clash between protection and profit, are what keep the lights on in the fight against dirty money.
And that fight often surfaces in the smallest, most ordinary moments. You know the kind: you’re at a branch or online, and the bank asks, “Where did these funds come from?” or “What’s the purpose of this transfer?” It feels intrusive, a bureaucratic hiccup. You answer, maybe irritated, and carry on. But that brief exchange is where policy becomes personal. It is a frontline attempt to stop illicit cash before it lands in someone else’s account. It’s a reminder that the shadowy game of chess where money laundering touches everyday life.
Popular culture captures glimpses of it, from Ozark to The Wolf of Wall Street, but the truth is often stranger. Creedence Clearwater Revival once sang about those fortunate sons, born into wealth who somehow looked poor when the taxman came knocking. They might as well have been singing about money laundering.
Dirty money slips through legitimate systems, scrubbed clean through shell companies, casinos or property portfolios. Each move is a test of who’s smarter: the criminal finding the loophole or the investigator closing it.
That’s where my stories live: in that narrow, tense space between truth and deception.
My latest book, Deception Under Maltese Skies, dives into that world. Set in Malta, it’s a prequel to The Maltese Web and follows investigator Marica Debono as she fights to navigate a labyrinth of lies and deceit protecting hidden bank accounts and those who control them.
If you’ve ever wondered what really happens after the question, “Where did this money come from?”, Marica Debono might just give you the answer.
Available in Kindle Unlimited, E Book or Print.
Interesting link to CCR. Quite a leap from California to Malta, but the world is indeed small.