Loren had been surreptitiously moving money from the accounts of
his bank’s wealthiest clients to one he created for himself in the Cayman
Islands for over 8 years. He had every reason to believe that no one
suspected a thing, and he knew the money would be safe in an offshore
account.
He had been prudent with all the money he had embezzled from Signet Bank. He
wore secondhand suits to his job as a bank teller there. He rode his bike from
Anacostia— the squalid, blighted neighborhood he called home— to his Dupont
Circle branch each day.
He rarely traveled outside of the Washington, DC area. He did nothing at all
to raise a red flag. He appeared as nothing more than an 18-dollar-an-hour bank
employee in a town where many made millions.
No one, he was sure, had ever scrutinized the myriad of transactions that had
taken place – dozens, sometimes hundreds of small transfers that amounted to
$9,000 every other week. Otherwise, the truth would have surely come to light a
long time ago.
“Nine thousand dollars every other week is just a drop in the bucket to these
rich folks,” Loren reasoned. This assuaged his guilt.
In Loren’s mind, it was the greedy people who got caught doing these things. It
was the ostentatious ones, too. It was the guys who built multi-million dollar
homes with 24 rooms on a pauper’s salary.
To him, the bank was fraught with idiots; no one was capable of unraveling his
master plan. No – it was too late for them.
Today was the day Loren would begin reaping the benefits of all his patience and
cunning and begin living in blissful obscurity.
After an ordinary day at work, Loren got on his bike and road over the river to
National Airport.
As the plane lifted off the runway for the Caribbean, Loren watched intently out
the window. He had close to $2 million collecting interest in the bank and had
managed to pull it off, unnoticed.
As the plane landed, Loren finally allowed himself to fully dream of the carefree life he was about to begin. He moved down the airplane steps, across the tarmac
and headed toward the airport. The balmy air felt comforting to his skin.
He breathed in slowly and deeply with anticipation, and then he was surprised to
hear a familiar voice.
“Hey, Loren. Not so fast.”
Loren had been surreptitiously moving money from the accounts ofhis bank’s wealthiest clients to one he created for himself in the CaymanIslands for over 8 years. He had every reason to believe that no onesuspected a thing, and he knew the money would be safe in an offshoreaccount.He had been prudent with all the money he had embezzled from Signet Bank. Hewore secondhand suits to his job as a bank teller there. He rode his bike fromAnacostia— the squalid, blighted neighborhood he called home— to his DupontCircle branch each day.He rarely traveled outside of the Washington, DC area. He did nothing at allto raise a red flag. He appeared as nothing more than an 18-dollar-an-hour bankemployee in a town where many made millions.No one, he was sure, had ever scrutinized the myriad of transactions that hadtaken place – dozens, sometimes hundreds of small transfers that amounted to$9,000 every other week. Otherwise, the truth would have surely come to light along time ago.“Nine thousand dollars every other week is just a drop in the bucket to theserich folks,” Loren reasoned. This assuaged his guilt.In Loren’s mind, it was the greedy people who got caught doing these things. Itwas the ostentatious ones, too. It was the guys who built multi-million dollarhomes with 24 rooms on a pauper’s salary.To him, the bank was fraught with idiots; no one was capable of unraveling hismaster plan. No – it was too late for them.Today was the day Loren would begin reaping the benefits of all his patience andcunning and begin living in blissful obscurity.After an ordinary day at work, Loren got on his bike and road over the river toNational Airport.As the plane lifted off the runway for the Caribbean, Loren watched intently outthe window. He had close to $2 million collecting interest in the bank and hadmanaged to pull it off, unnoticed.As the plane landed, Loren finally allowed himself to fully dream of the carefree life he was about to begin. He moved down the airplane steps, across the tarmacand headed toward the airport. The balmy air felt comforting to his skin.He breathed in slowly and deeply with anticipation, and then he was surprised tohear a familiar voice.“Hey, Loren. Not so fast.”
การแปล กรุณารอสักครู่..
Loren had been surreptitiously moving money from the accounts of
his bank’s wealthiest clients to one he created for himself in the Cayman
Islands for over 8 years. He had every reason to believe that no one
suspected a thing, and he knew the money would be safe in an offshore
account.
He had been prudent with all the money he had embezzled from Signet Bank. He
wore secondhand suits to his job as a bank teller there. He rode his bike from
Anacostia— the squalid, blighted neighborhood he called home— to his Dupont
Circle branch each day.
He rarely traveled outside of the Washington, DC area. He did nothing at all
to raise a red flag. He appeared as nothing more than an 18-dollar-an-hour bank
employee in a town where many made millions.
No one, he was sure, had ever scrutinized the myriad of transactions that had
taken place – dozens, sometimes hundreds of small transfers that amounted to
$9,000 every other week. Otherwise, the truth would have surely come to light a
long time ago.
“Nine thousand dollars every other week is just a drop in the bucket to these
rich folks,” Loren reasoned. This assuaged his guilt.
In Loren’s mind, it was the greedy people who got caught doing these things. It
was the ostentatious ones, too. It was the guys who built multi-million dollar
homes with 24 rooms on a pauper’s salary.
To him, the bank was fraught with idiots; no one was capable of unraveling his
master plan. No – it was too late for them.
Today was the day Loren would begin reaping the benefits of all his patience and
cunning and begin living in blissful obscurity.
After an ordinary day at work, Loren got on his bike and road over the river to
National Airport.
As the plane lifted off the runway for the Caribbean, Loren watched intently out
the window. He had close to $2 million collecting interest in the bank and had
managed to pull it off, unnoticed.
As the plane landed, Loren finally allowed himself to fully dream of the carefree life he was about to begin. He moved down the airplane steps, across the tarmac
and headed toward the airport. The balmy air felt comforting to his skin.
He breathed in slowly and deeply with anticipation, and then he was surprised to
hear a familiar voice.
“Hey, Loren. Not so fast.”
การแปล กรุณารอสักครู่..