Money laundering is one of those terms that gets tossed around so often that most people just assume that they understand what it means. But take a tour of the subject with a veteran cop and you’ll soon realize you had no clue. Longtime RCMP undercover operative Chris Mathers, whose experience included posing as an underworld bureau-de-change agent, provides a street-level view of the myriad ways criminals try to get large sums of cash into legitimate financial channels without raising suspicion.

Crime School is full of interesting information, but the stylistic excesses soon become distracting. Mathers comes on with a full-on wisecracking gumshoe persona that could be straight out of a pulp novel – his acknowledgments include Blackie, Carlo, Jimmy the Boat, Tattoo, and Tony from Miami, and he refers to “the bad guys” as frequently as possible. In fact, the style is over the top enough that you wonder if your leg is being pulled mightily.

Granted, the book will undoubtedly supply readers with some good cocktail party conversation. You’ll learn why so many people get shot in the ass, why many drug dealers don’t bother counting their money, and how much more used money weighs than newly printed bills. Mathers also turns a lot of received wisdom on its ear. If you thought casinos and the Caymans were prime places to launder money, for instance, you’re wildly mistaken. In fact, the book’s major theme is how plebeian and pervasive the practice can be – plebeian in that it can be accomplished by trading in soap concentrate, and pervasive in the way it affects so many average citizens.

Crime School is still worth the read, but had someone cracked down a bit on the smart-alecky tone, the endless footnotes containing definitions of street lingo, and the digressions from the main subject, the book would have been a lot better. Trying to sound dumber than you are may work well on the street, but it doesn’t work as well in print.