By Elaine Viets
For nearly a year I’ve been fighting a series of computer scams. Let me tell you what I learned. The hard way.
The problem started last spring when I found an extra $120 from Instacart in my bank account. I contacted Insta and was told I needed to call a special number for seniors.
I did. The person on the phone assured me the extra money would be taken back. I left for a trip to St. Louis.
A day later, about four in the afternoon, I got a frantic call from a young man with a cornpone accent who said he was in California. The poor country boy said he’d made a terrible mistake and “accidentally” put $1,200 in my account. Now he was going to be fired. Could I please go to the nearest Western Union and wire him the money? Please, please, please?
No. I had to give a speech.
I hung up. Cornpone called back. He begged. He pleaded. He did everything but break down in tears. “Please ma’am, I’ll lose my job. This money will come out of my paycheck. I’ll go broke. Please wire me the money.”
No. I hung up again.
This time Cornpone called back and said, “OK, if you can’t wire the money, could you write a check and mail it?” He gave me the name of a woman in South Carolina, all the way across the country from California.
Wait a minute? I said. Why do you want this mailed to a woman in South Carolina? Why not send it to Instacart?
“She’s my supervisor,” he said.
Nope. Something didn’t smell right. I closed my bank card and the account.
When I got home, the money in my compromised account was transferred to my new account. Including the $1,200. I also filed a police report. I didn’t expect the police to haul Cornpone and his pals off in handcuffs.
I’ve had at least three suspicious incidents since then, for purchases I couldn’t possibly have made. Each time I’ve closed my bank card. The most recent attack this Saturday was more serious. I got this text in all caps: DID YOU ATTEMPT PURCHASE TARGET $789.88 ORLANDO. Y(YES) N (NO). CASE #818992 TO OPT OUT REPLY.
Orlando? I live 220 miles away in south Florida.
Before I could reply, I got a phone call from a young man with an instantly forgettable name. I think his last name was Johnson. He asked if I’d made the Target purchase.
“On my BigBucks bank card? No,” I said.
He said he would instantly close the card. Fine. He then asked me to call up my account and confirm my recent purchases, which I did. The latest was from a gas station. I also told him the amount in my checking and savings accounts.
He said this was “a very serious case of fraud” and he needed the physical card. He gave me an address that was the headquarters of BigBucks Bank and asked me to take the card to FedEx. I said no.
He said he’d send a Lyft driver in a red Prius to pick up the card and take it to FedEx. The helpful Mr. Johnson stayed on the line while I waited outside my condo building and handed the card to the Lyft driver.
I thanked Mr. Johnson for alerting me to the fraud. He warned me not to buy gas from a pump. “That’s probably how they got your bank card number.” He hung up.
In the elevator on the way upstairs, I wondered why BigBucks needed the physical card. Didn’t it have all that information in the computer?
At about the 12th floor, I realized I’d been had. I ran to my condo, locked my bank card and all my accounts. I ignored the latest text from Mr. Johnson, which said, “Alert. Your new Temporary User name is BigBucks41946. Reply with old Username to deactivate.”
No, thanks. I called my bank’s fraud division. They confirmed what I suspected. Fraud.
What were the clues?
Check out that text again: DID YOU ATTEMPT PURCHASE TARGET $789.88 ORLANDO. Y(YES) N (NO). CASE #818992 TO OPT OUT REPLY.
Notice what’s missing? The bank’s name. Which I helpfully provided.
It took two days to get a new bank card and bank account. I also made a police report and alerted condo security. That so-called “Lyft” driver was in on it, too. He didn’t have a sign on his car. Thanks to security, we now have video of that red Prius.
Again, I don’t expect the scammers to get caught.
But all they got was my time. No money.
And scammers don’t always win. After all, I got to keep that $1,200.
Where did the scammers get that kind of cash? The bank said they have a sort of revolving scam fund – when they get the money from one scam, they use part of it for the next scam.
I’m not the only one who nicked them. One banker said a Latino woman went through the same thing. She found an unexpected windfall in her account from a company. The scammers wanted their money back. Something didn’t seem right to her. The woman got scared and went to her bank.
The bank closed her account ASAP. The scammers cruelly threatened the woman, telling her they’d report her to immigration.
The bank said, “Sorry, the account’s closed.”
She kept the money.
Preorder “Sex and Death on the Beach,” my new Florida beach mystery. Get the low price at Thrift Books. https://www.thriftbooks.com/browse/?b.search=sex%20and%20death%20on%20the%20beach%20by%20viets#b.s=mostPopular-desc&b.p=1&b.pp=50&b.oos&b.tile