Last year, an award-winning Netflix documentary made a pop culture phenomenon out of Israeli con artist Simon Leviev — the so-called Tinder Swindler, a fraudster from Tel Aviv who made millions running what can only be described as a Ponzi scheme of women.

The story taps our unfortunate but apparently growing fascination with humans’ ability to elaborately defraud one another. The documentary details a life of luxury, lived on the dime of women Leviev meets on Tinder, persuaded to loan him money or take on debts for him, with the funds of one unsuspecting woman covered by the next. Leviev’s story is peppered with lies about his supposedly dangerous life as a diamond trader and the troubles he faces being Jewish, and is told through interviews and phone records of the women he led to believe were falling in love.

The documentary is compelling, if sinisterly so. Leviev now lives openly in Tel Aviv/Jaffa, despite still being wanted for his crimes by authorities in Britain, Sweden, and Norway. But behind his own status as a wanted man — indeed, in states that count as Israeli allies — is a persistent story of criminals using Israel as a hideout in which to evade justice elsewhere.