In Biganos, France, a 26-year-old man with no history of drug trafficking was convicted for selling several kilos of drugs… to finance his fierce gambling addiction. Behind the closed shutters of a discreet dwelling, far from the circles of organised crime, lay a methodical trafficking operation, fuelled by a passion for casinos. Nearly half a million euros were swallowed up by slot machines and gaming tables in the space of a year.
A busy car park, a business on alert
It all began in Biganos, a peaceful town in the Arcachon basin, where a vigilant shopkeeper noticed a strange commotion around his store. Cars would pull up, stop for a few minutes, then speed off again. This incessant coming and going was worrying: his car park had become a drug dealing spot. Faced with this situation, he discreetly alerted the police. An investigation was launched.
The police in Arcachon quickly set up discreet surveillance. They spot a young man, often seen on a scooter, receiving numerous brief visits to his home. The comings and goings are too frequent to be insignificant.
For investigators, there is no doubt: this is the dealer. A GPS tracker is installed on his car. It confirms their suspicions. The trips are short, regular, and to various addresses. The hypothesis of home deliveries gains traction.
In May 2025, a search warrant was issued.
3 kilos of drugs and encrypted messaging
Law enforcement officers discover nearly 3 kilos of drugs at the suspect’s home: cocaine, cannabis resin, and weed. The 26-year-old man is arrested. His phone is examined. Exchanges on Telegram, an encrypted messaging app popular with traffickers, reveal sustained activity with numerous customer contacts.
When questioned, the customers identified him as their main supplier. It was a personal, efficient network, with no apparent violence, but highly profitable.
A compulsive gambler, not a drug lord
During his trial at the Bordeaux Criminal Court, the man did not deny the facts. But he gave an account that spoke volumes about the mechanics of addiction.
‘At the very beginning, I was forced,’ he explained, claiming that he had been used as a courier by other more experienced dealers. ‘Then it became an addiction.’
But not to drugs. To gambling.
When questioned, local casino officials confirmed a staggering statistic: in one year, the young man spent €472,000 there. A staggering sum, almost entirely derived from trafficking. On average, he spent €26,000 per month on slot machines, gaming tables, or betting.
‘He’s no Al Capone, but still…’
The defendant’s profile is surprising. He already has a long criminal record: seven convictions, mainly for driving without a licence, without insurance and under the influence of drugs. But he has no history of involvement in organised crime.
The prosecutor paints a more nuanced picture:
‘He’s no Al Capone, but still.’
He highlights the large quantity of drugs found at the defendant’s home. The presiding judge also questions him:
‘You’re not a small-time dealer: the quantities are not insignificant.’
The man, from the dock, tries to justify himself:
‘It was for the long term.’
The court rules: three years in prison, including 18 months suspended, and a fine of 10,000 euros. A sentence that the magistrates consider proportionate to the volume of trafficking, but also to the psychological dimension of the case.
The man, now incarcerated, has lost everything: his freedom, his money, and perhaps the last bet he hoped to make.
Is addiction a criminal scourge?
This case raises the question: to what extent can addiction push an individual to cross the line? Compulsive gambling, often underestimated, is nevertheless a known factor in debt, distress and sometimes crime.
Casinos, although regulated, sometimes attract those who have nothing left to lose. And those who are willing to do anything to try their luck, once again.