The spectre at the feast

We had someone to stay at the weekend, and she mentioned that her cousin’s daughter’s boyfriend (oh, do keep up) was under investigation in the US for – she thought, hence the revelation – something to do with money laundering.  All she could remember was his first name and that he was probably Swiss, as he lived in Zurich.  Well, I am something of a Google-queen, a mistress of the search term, and so I was online in the flashest of flashes.  And do you know, he pleaded guilty last Thursday.  How exciting is that?  My husband’s best friend’s mother’s cousin’s daughter’s boyfriend is a money launderer.

He managed to avoid a prison sentence – please allow me to slip into the vernacular here – by singing like a canary to the US authorities about all the other naughty Swiss bankers he knows, and their clients who are evading their US tax liabilities.  I am not at all happy about the lack of chokey, with its handy exposure to lonely inmates, but he does have to return regularly to the US “to assist with their enquiries” and I suspect that he will find it hard to work – or perhaps even breathe, if his clients are particularly annoyed – in Switzerland again.  And I had to break it to our friend that yes, the cousin’s daughter’s boyfriend will probably be a no-show at the big family Christmas party next month.  But if he does show up, I warned her, don’t tell him anything about your financial arrangements – loose lips and all that.