The De Banks

London Calling: The De Banks Empire

The De Banks Crime Family – a multigenerational London syndicate – has spent decades turning the city’s Docklands into a personal empire of crime and commerce. Today its king and queen are Robbie De Banks and Misty Meanor, a gangster power-couple in their mid-30s whose iron grip on the Docklands is deeply entrenched and widely feared. Under their rule, this once-derelict port zone has become what underworld insiders chillingly call “exceptional fishing grounds” – waters where the big fish are always well-fed. In other words, the Docklands now feed a school of big criminal “fish” (the De Banks and their cronies) with a constant catch of illicit wealth.

With help from disgraced judge-turned-fixer, Reginald “Ropes” Blackheart, the De Banks family amassed an immense fortune and quasi-political influence. Blackheart – a name once synonymous with corrupt justice in Ireland – became the family’s secret weapon, using his legal cunning to insulate their enterprise from the law. Together, this triumvirate of old guard corruption (Blackheart) and new blood gangland royalty (Robbie and Misty) has exploited every loophole and leverage point to make the Docklands their dominion.

Docklands: Crime’s “Exceptional Fishing Grounds” Once a derelict port, London’s Docklands became a goldmine for criminals in the 1980s redevelopment boom. Illicit money – notably from the £26 million Brink’s-Mat gold heist – was laundered into Docklands property . The De Banks followed this playbook, pouring dirty cash into warehouses and high-rises, effectively owning half the Docklands through front companies. In gangland slang, it’s “exceptional fishing grounds” – a turf so rich it keeps the biggest sharks satisfied.

A Dynasty of Crime, a Duo in Charge

The De Banks syndicate stretches back decades, akin to London’s infamous Adams family or Kray twins. Robbie De Banks grew up heir to this underworld dynasty, and Misty Meanor – his partner in life and crime – is the brilliant strategist beside him. They mirror notorious real-world crime duos who mixed romance and ruthlessness, but with a corporate twist: the De Banks enterprise runs less like a street gang and more like a boardroom of mob bosses.

“Ropes” Blackheart – Corruption’s Consigliere Reginald “Ropes” Blackheart, once a High Court judge, fell from grace amid scandal. Cast out of respectable society, he offered his services to the highest bidder. The De Banks welcomed him as a hidden asset. Blackheart drew on the same bag of tricks he used on the bench – bribery, legal manipulation, intimidation – to keep Robbie and Misty out of prison and on top of the food chain. In essence, a former judge became the crime family’s , crafting schemes with the precision of a legal assassin.

Crime Feeding on Commerce. Under the De Banks, the line between legitimate business and organized crime in the Docklands blurs. The family’s companies win government contracts, develop luxury flats, and run shipping yards – all while channeling narcotics, extortion cash, and contraband through the same pipelines. Politicians courted by De Banks money turn a blind eye. As one investigator put it, “They run the Docklands like their private marina – everyone else is just paying mooring fees.” The result: a fortress of wealth that’s as hard to penetrate legally as it is financially.

A Dynasty Built on “Big Fish” Ambition

The De Banks family’s rise began in the late 20th century and followed a pattern seen in Britain’s most notorious crime syndicates. Much like the real-life Adams family of Clerkenwell – whose mix of “surgical brutality [and] financial cunning” made them one of London’s most feared outfits – the De Banks grew from humble street thuggery into a sprawling, million-pound enterprise.

</style><ul class="timeline-container"><li><h4>1970s: Humble Beginnings in the East End</h4>Origins of the De Banks Clan. Family patriarch Albert “Bertie” De Banks (Robbie’s grandfather) runs protection rackets at East End markets and pubs. The crew’s name, “De Banks,” becomes ironic slang on the streets – known for “robbin’ the banks” through armed heists of payroll vans. They earn a reputation for fearless raids and strict loyalty. By 1979, Bertie’s illicit earnings are invested in a few shabby warehouses in the abandoned Docklands – the family’s first toehold in what will become their stronghold.</li><li><h4>1980s: Gold, Redevelopment & Dirty Money</h4>Docklands Boom – Crime Goes Mainstream. The Thatcher-era regeneration of London Docklands offers a golden opportunity. In 1983, a notorious real heist – the Brink’s-Mat robbery – floods London’s underworld with untraceable gold bullion. Crime bosses launder fortunes into Docklands property developments. The De Banks family is at the forefront of this trend. Bertie’s son, Ronald “Ronnie” De Banks, uses Brink’s-Mat contacts to wash the gang’s heist loot through offshore accounts and reinvest in Docklands real estate. By the late ‘80s, half-built office blocks and derelict wharfs are being snapped up by shell companies ultimately controlled by the De Banks. The family’s wealth transitions from stacks of stolen cash to assets on city ledgers, marking their evolution from street gang to organized crime ** cartel with a property portfolio. Rival East End gangs either fall in line or “disappear” under the De Banks’ mounting shadow (the fate of one rival crew in 1988 remains a mystery, fueling the De Banks’ fearsome mystique). Importantly, this decade sees **political protection begin: Ronnie cultivates friendships with a few City bankers and a councillor in Tower Hamlets, ensuring sympathetic ears in legal trouble.</li><li><h4>1990s: Reign of Terror & Influence</h4>Consolidation – The Docklands Kingpins. As London’s economy booms, so does the De Banks empire. Under Ronnie’s leadership, the family diversifies: drug trafficking, extortion, “security” services, and high-stakes fraud become staples of their income. Like the Adams Family’s “A-Team” in North London, the De Banks run their outfit with a blend of boardroom efficiency and underworld terror. They establish a strict hierarchy – longtime lieutenants handle day-to-day criminal operations, while the family’s inner circle (Ronnie and a few brothers) manage finances and bribe officials. The Docklands area by now hosts glitzy new office towers and the Canary Wharf development, and the De Banks have insinuated themselves here too. Through front companies, they win contracts in construction and dock operations, skimming money and extorting subcontractors behind the scenes. A whispered legend circulates that “not a crane can swing in Docklands without the De Banks getting a cut.” During this period, violence underpins everything – the family is linked to numerous beatings and a few gangland murders (though never convicted). One infamous incident in 1995 saw a Docklands union leader vanish after resisting De Banks pressure to cooperate; colleagues thereafter toed the line. Police investigations stall as witnesses recant or vanish – a phenomenon not unlike the Adams syndicate, where juries and witnesses seemed cowed into silence. By decade’s end, the De Banks are the undisputed crime lords of East London, and their wealth – conservatively estimated in the tens of millions – is both well-hidden and well-guarded.</li><li><h4>2000s: Enter Judge Blackheart – Law Meets Outlaw</h4>High-Profile Ally Joins the Fold. The new millennium brings both opportunity and peril. In the early 2000s, Reginald “Ropes” Blackheart crosses paths with the De Banks. Blackheart, an Irish judge infamous for corruption and brutality, had quietly extended his reach into London’s criminal circles via a sham law firm, Masters, Crook & Toole. De Banks lieutenants first collaborate with Blackheart in 2005 when a debt collection goes awry: a De Banks enforcer (the notorious Rico Ransom) incites a public brawl at a Dublin nightclub owned by an associate. Blackheart, leveraging his influence, hushes up the incident to keep both the police and rival gangs off the De Banks’ backs. Impressed, Ronnie De Banks starts retaining Masters, Crook & Toole for sensitive legal “cleanup.” 2007–2012: Blackheart’s Downfall. Blackheart’s own empire crumbles when he’s investigated and exposed for judicial crimes back in Ireland. In 2012, he resigns in disgrace to avoid prison, and flees into exile. For the De Banks, this could have been a setback – losing a corrupt judge in their pocket – but it becomes an opportunity. Ronnie offers Blackheart a proverbial lifeboat: come to London (or at least work with us from afar) and apply your dark arts for the De Banks full-time. Blackheart, ego bruised and vengeful, agrees. Although officially disbarred, he reinvents himself as a behind-the-scenes “consultant” for the crime family. By the late 2000s, while De Banks foot soldiers battle Balkan gangs for control of cocaine importation, Blackheart is advising the family on how to exploit legal loopholes and derail investigations. He earns the moniker “the Hanging Judge turned Fixer” – a man who once dealt in death sentences now dealing in getting gangsters off the hook.</li><li><h4>2010s: A New Generation – Robbie & Misty Ascend</h4>Succession and Modernization. The 2010s mark a turning point. Aging boss Ronnie De Banks is arrested in 2011 on fraud and money-laundering charges (a rare misstep) but mysteriously no conviction follows – key evidence goes “missing” from police storage, an outcome many attribute to Blackheart’s invisible hand. Nonetheless, health problems and legal heat prompt Ronnie to step back. Leadership passes to his son Robbie De Banks, just past 30, groomed since youth to take the helm. Robbie’s secret weapon is his longtime partner Misty Meanor. Far from a mere companion, Misty is an astute criminal strategist, reputedly the real brains of the operation. (Underworld gossip calls her “the lady of 1000 loopholes,” after her knack for exploiting legal and financial technicalities.) Robbie and Misty marry in 2013 – solidifying a personal and professional bond at the top of the family. Under their command, the De Banks syndicate becomes both more tech-savvy and more ruthless. Misty pushes the group deeper into white-collar crimes: cyber-fraud, identity theft, and high-end art smuggling, to complement their traditional rackets. Robbie, a charismatic but cold-blooded figure, maintains the family’s iron grip through fear – but also modernizes their image. They court seemingly legitimate investors and even host charity galas, all as fronts to launder money and ingratiate themselves with London elites. Blackheart’s Role: Now in his 60s and living overseas (Patagonia), Blackheart remains on retainer to the De Banks. Through encrypted calls and proxy lawyers, he mentors Misty in outsmarting law enforcement. In 2014, when UK authorities bust several Masters, Crook & Toole London partners on money-laundering charges, Blackheart quietly ensures no evidence ties back to De Banks dealings. He then helps the family recruit new corrupt solicitors to replace that loss. By 2015, Robbie and Misty have something rare in organized crime: near-total impunity. Scotland Yard investigations into them repeatedly hit dead ends – either from lack of evidence, witness intimidation, or legal interference. The De Banks’ power is at its zenith: they hold economic sway over the Docklands and have key officials (a couple of MPs and city planners) in their pocket. It’s around this time the “fishing grounds” metaphor takes hold internally – one joke in a wiretapped conversation had Misty quip that “the Docklands are an exceptional fishery – we net all the big catches, and toss back the little fry.” Indeed, small-time dealers and crews are allowed to operate only at the De Banks’ pleasure, paying hefty cuts upward – the classic mafia-style tribute system. Everyone knows that crossing Robbie and Misty is suicide; as one observer notes, “If you’re in with them, you’re golden. If you’re out, you’re dead.”</li><li><h4>2020s: The Empire Today – Wealth, Secrecy & Threats</h4>Present Day Fortunes and Fears. As of 2026, the De Banks crime family is at the pinnacle of its influence – but not without storm clouds on the horizon. Robbie and Misty preside over an enterprise that is woven into the very fabric of London’s economy. Through an array of legitimate fronts – shipping companies, real estate holdings, logistics consultancies – they not only launder past profits but generate new ones legally. City insiders whisper that whenever a luxury condo sells in Canary Wharf or a ship docks with illicit cargo on the Thames, a slice of the profit finds its way into a De Banks account. Their estimated net worth is impossible to pin down, but experts guess it could exceed £100 million, rivaling that of historical crime bosses like Terry Adams (once thought to be worth nine figures himself). The De Banks wield this fortune to buy silence and cooperation at every level. However, threats loom. The Metropolitan Police’s Organized Crime Command, bolstered by the National Crime Agency, has quietly formed a task force targeting the De Banks – a recognition that this “invisible empire” has grown too powerful. Advances in surveillance and financial forensics mean that even Misty’s clever shell companies are under scrutiny. There are also whispers of unrest within the syndicate: a younger cousin of Robbie’s, resentful of being passed over, has been allying with Eastern European mobsters and may challenge the leadership. And then there is Judge Blackheart’s own saga coming back into play. In late 2025, Blackheart rather conspicuously re-emerged from exile to attend to a mysterious inheritance matter in Ireland (the so-called “Mallon Hall affair”). His name splashed back into headlines and a true-crime documentary about his misdeeds aired widely. For Robbie and Misty, this is a double-edged sword: Blackheart’s expertise has been vital, but his notoriety is a liability. Should Blackheart decide to save his own skin (or pursue his own avaricious agendas) by betraying the De Banks secrets, their empire could crack overnight. Thus far, Blackheart has stayed loyal – likely because the De Banks pay him handsomely and because he has nowhere safer to turn – but the couple remains wary. In public, they distance themselves from him; in private, they keep him on a tight leash. Notably, Misty has contingencies in place: confidential memos (revealed in an insider leak) show she has dossiers of blackmail material prepared on Blackheart, to guarantee his continued cooperation. The chapter of Robbie and Misty’s reign being written now is one of immense but tense prosperity – they have never been richer or more dominant, yet they can sense the ground shifting. As Hugh Dunnit’s investigation closes in, the De Banks face the eternal crime family dilemma: can they keep their “big fish” well-fed and safe in their pond, or will a larger predator – be it the law, betrayal, or fate – come for them at last?</li></ul>

Blackheart’s Web: How a Judge Became the De Banks’ Secret Weapon

One of the most intriguing (and unsettling) aspects of the De Banks saga is the involvement of Judge Reginald “Rope(s)” Blackheart – a real-life caricature of judicial evil whose downfall became tabloid fodder, and who then seamlessly transitioned into serving the very criminals he once abetted from the bench. Blackheart’s story has been detailed earlier in this book, but to recap his relevance here:

A Ruthless Judge Turns Rogue: Blackheart made his name in the 1980s as a High Court judge unafraid to send men to the gallows (earning the nickname “Ropes” for all the nooses he tied). He was corrupt to the core, secretly in league with Irish mobsters and even Italian mafia figures. By the 2000s he was exposed, disgraced, and exiled – but crucially, he never faced full justice. This left him free – and burning for payback against society – which made him ripe for recruitment by a crime family in need of his “black arts.”
Alliance with the De Banks: The De Banks did not hesitate to capitalize on Blackheart’s availability. As described in the timeline, their partnership solidified in the mid-2000s. Blackheart’s skill set was unique: he had been on the inside of the justice system and knew exactly how to subvert it. He advised the family on counter-surveillance (teaching them how police might bug their meetings, and how to detect or mislead such efforts), on legal strategy (for instance, exploiting disclosure rules to force police to reveal their hand, or coaching alibis that could hold up in court). Perhaps most valuably, Blackheart acted as a shadow negotiator with other corrupt officials. He still had contacts – a bribed clerk at the courthouse, an old friend in the Crown Prosecution Service – and he shamelessly traded favors or cash to get insider information. Several times, raids on De Banks properties were quietly called off or delayed, as Blackheart got wind of them in advance, allowing the family to “sanitize” locations in time.
Masters, Crook & Toole and Money Laundering: Through the firm Masters, Crook & Toole (itself practically a criminal enterprise in lawyers’ clothing), Blackheart helped the De Banks launder money internationally. This mirrors exactly what happened in the Brink’s-Mat case with solicitors like Michael Relton, who created offshore accounts to funnel dirty money into legitimate UK assets. Blackheart did the same for the De Banks: setting up shell companies in the Caribbean and Channel Islands, then reinvesting funds into London ventures. One such example: a seedy casino in Soho that the De Banks owned was sold, and the proceeds “disappeared” abroad – only to reappear as funding for a new logistics company building a freight terminal in the Docklands. The paperwork was labyrinthine, but Blackheart (with Misty’s keen help) engineered it so well that forensic accountants still struggle to link that money trail.
Political Corruption: Blackheart’s pedigree and polish also opened doors in high places for the De Banks. On at least one occasion, he lobbied a Member of Parliament on behalf of a De Banks-controlled development, framing it as an economic boon (the MP likely had no idea who the real backers were). Blackheart could speak the language of the elite – after all, he once was part of it – making him an ideal “front” when the crime lords needed to interface with legitimate power. He would appear in a Savile Row suit as “Reginald Blackheart, Legal Consultant,” perhaps concealing the full “Judge” title, and advocate for the family’s interests. In one remarkable incident, Blackheart attended a 2018 City Hall meeting about port authority regulations – effectively lobbying against tighter customs checks (which would hinder smuggling). A leaked email later showed that an aide to the Deputy Mayor was star-struck to meet “such an experienced jurist” and bent over backwards to accommodate his suggestions.
Mutual Dependence and Dark Trust: It’s important to note that the relationship between Blackheart and the De Banks is not one of pure camaraderie, but of calculated mutual need, laced with mistrust. Blackheart, for all his arrogance, likely knows that if he ever double-crossed Robbie and Misty, he could end up in the Thames. Likewise, the De Banks are aware that Blackheart’s knowledge of their operations makes him a potential threat – a “loose end” that they manage carefully. This dynamic is reminiscent of the tenuous alliances in organized crime history: for example, how certain Mafia families in Italy sheltered corrupt politicians, who in turn protected them – until the day one side betrayed the other. So far, Blackheart and the De Banks have kept their bargain. Blackheart has been richly rewarded (it’s rumored the family set up a secret trust fund paying him a stipend – essentially his pension for a life of corruption). And the De Banks have benefited immensely; without Blackheart’s behind-the-scenes machinations, it’s doubtful they could have evaded law enforcement so completely in the 2010s.

As Hugh Dunnit’s nonfiction narrative lays bare, Blackheart’s involvement is the linchpin that connects seemingly disparate worlds: the genteel halls of justice and the blood-stained back alleys of gangland. It is a sobering case of white-collar and blue-collar crime converging. In the words of a barrister commenting on Brink’s-Mat, it’s the “creme de la creme of the criminal fraternity” teaming up with insiders like Blackheart – a convergence once thought to be rare, but evidently thriving in the shadows of London’s boom years.

Running the Docklands: Crime as a Corporate Enterprise

Under Robbie and Misty’s stewardship (greatly enabled by Blackheart’s guidance), the De Banks organization in the Docklands functions strikingly like a multinational corporation – albeit one with murder and extortion in its toolbox. This is a model also seen with the Adams family mob: they held boardroom-style meetings in mansions, delegated tasks like a CEO to managers, and used accountants to handle illicit funds. The De Banks have iterated on that model for the 21st century:

Organizational Structure: At the top, Robbie (CEO) and Misty (CFO/COO) make strategic decisions. Directly under them, a “board” of lieutenants oversees different divisions: e.g., Narcotics & Smuggling (bringing in heroin, cocaine, increasingly via maritime routes through the Port of London), Racketeering & Protection (old-school extortion of businesses, control of local unions, “security” for hire), Finance & Legitimate Fronts (laundering money through real businesses, overseen by Misty and their accountants), and Enforcement (a crew of enforcers for muscle, led by a veteran heavy said to have served the family since Ronnie’s days). Each division head reports up with regular “earnings” and situation reports, much like department heads might in a legit company. This compartmentalization also insulates the bosses – if one part of the operation is compromised, the others can deny knowledge.
Control of Territory and Economy: The Docklands isn’t just a random patch of London turf – it’s uniquely valuable. It includes major transport hubs (e.g., container docks, City Airport, railway links) and has been the site of massive investment. Owning or influencing this area gives the De Banks both a logistical advantage and a financial stake. They can import contraband through docks by bribing port officials, and they can siphon off materials from construction sites (reports in the 2010s noted thefts of steel and concrete from building projects, likely an organized scheme). Meanwhile, property they acquired cheap in the 80s is now leased to legitimate companies for huge rents – providing a steady legal income to complement illegal profits. One could say the Docklands have been feudalized under the De Banks: they are like lords, charging tribute (whether through rent or protection payments) from anyone operating on “their” land. And like feudal lords, they provide a form of order too – it’s been noted that street crime in the Docklands (muggings, random violence) is surprisingly low, presumably because the De Banks don’t tolerate unauthorized crime that could bring police attention. In effect, they run a parallel governance: brutal but efficient.
Political and Law Enforcement Influence: Over the years, the De Banks have cultivated a small but potent network of corrupted officials. In local government, a few council members (never enough to be obvious, but enough to sway committees) reliably vote in favor of projects that benefit De Banks interests – for instance, approving zoning changes that allow the family’s nightclubs to operate late (facilitating after-hours drug trade) or granting contracts to security firms run by De Banks associates. In the police, while the Met as a whole is not under their thumb, individual officers have been bought. A leaked 2019 internal memo from the Met mentioned “unusual fraternization” between a Docklands station commander and businessmen later identified as De Banks proxies. This commander was moved after suspicions he was tipping the gang off about raids. The phenomenon echoes the old days of the Kray twins, who had London policemen on their payroll to warn them of impending trouble. For now, these compromised officials act as speed bumps to law enforcement, though the NCA’s involvement suggests the net is tightening.
Public Facade and Fear: Robbie De Banks and Misty Meanor manage a careful public image. They are rarely directly linked to crimes in the public’s eyes. Instead, they appear as a wealthy young couple with stakes in nightlife, shipping, and real estate. They attend charity events (indeed, they donated generously to a Docklands historical society, which earned Robbie a civic award – a delicious irony given his illicit reign over that history). This respectability makes it hard for journalists to pin them down, though investigative reporters have started to connect the dots. Meanwhile, on the street level, everyone knows who runs the show. They know that if you cross a De Banks front business – say by refusing to sell your property when pressured – you’ll receive increasingly unsubtle warnings. First a polite offer, then a brick through your car window, then perhaps a beating by masked thugs. It rarely goes further, because almost no one pushes to the point of no return. The De Banks have maintained power in part by minimizing the flashy violence that drew other gangs unwanted attention. As one veteran detective said, “They don’t leave bodies on the street. That’s why it’s so hard to pin anything on them.” Instead, fear does the work: the threat of violence, backed by a few well-chosen examples (those few who did disappear or turn up in the Thames over the years), keeps the rest in line.

Epilogue – Sinister Currents Beneath Still Waters

In “London Calling,” we see how a criminal empire can embed itself into a modern city’s growth, feeding off prosperity like a parasite while wearing a host’s guise. The De Banks family exemplifies this duality: celebrated as astute entrepreneurs in some circles, reviled as crime lords in whispered tones. Their story, as revealed by Hugh Dunnit, carries a sobering message: organized crime is not just alleyway shootings and heists; it can be boardroom deals and court manipulations, happening in parallel with everyday life.

The sinister overtones of this chapter come from how normal it can all seem. A judge like Blackheart, reading wills by day and plotting with gangsters by night; a community fundraiser funded by money that was extorted from local businesses; a glistening marina where behind the yachts lurk clandestine smuggling operations. The true crime exposé style peels back that facade of normalcy. It shows that the “big fish” of the Docklands didn’t get fat by chance – they were fattened by systemic corruption, calculated ruthlessness, and the complicity (or complacency) of people in high and low places.

As we close the chapter, the De Banks empire stands at a precarious peak. Every fortune gained in the shadows often carries the seeds of its undoing. Will an outsider like Hugh Dunnit, armed with truth, be the catalyst that finally brings this empire down? Or will the De Banks prove, like so many crime dynasties before, that they can survive scandal and scrutiny just as they’ve survived gang wars and police stings? One thing is certain: London is calling – and it demands answers about who really holds power in the Docklands. In the coming pages, those answers will be pursued with the full vigor of investigative inquiry, shining light on a world that has long thrived in darkness.

Throughout this enthralling tale of crime and cover-ups, we’ve seen fact and fiction intertwine. The saga of Robbie De Banks and Misty Meanor is made believable – indeed, chillingly plausible – by its parallels with reality: the Brink’s-Mat gold that built skyscrapers, the crime family that outsmarted justice for decades, and the judge who truly did fall from grace and aid the underworld. The truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the gold behind London’s glittering facade may finally be laid bare – and Chapter 11 has provided a glimpse into that hidden realm where love, lawlessness, and legacy collide.