Dead at First Sight

25 Monday 1 October

DS Sally Medlock looked around the room at the members of the recently formed Financial Crimes Safeguarding Team. It had been her initiative to set it up, with the enthusiastic support of the Chief Constable and Police and Crime Commissioner, to take new approaches in guarding the vulnerable — and sometimes just plain gullible — against the myriad predators lurking out there in the digital sewers.

In 2005 romance fraud accounted for just seven per cent of all financial scams perpetrated in the UK. Today it was close to eighty per cent. Sums varied from a few thousand pounds up to a staggering four and a half million. And romance fraud was just one area of the growing menace of financial crime.

The situation had become so serious they now had a daily management meeting, Monday to Friday. Seven officers, a mixture of detectives and uniform, sat around the table in the first-floor conference room at Police Headquarters in Lewes. They were housed, along with Major Crime, in one of the former dormitory buildings at the rear of the HQ campus, directly above Detective Superintendent Roy Grace’s office.

‘Safeguarding’ was a vital but largely unseen duty carried out by British police forces. Monitoring and protecting people who were suffering domestic abuse. Children who were victims of sexual abuse. Young people from overseas, mostly Nigeria, Romania and Albania, who were brought over as slaves and forced into being sex workers or working in other jobs for a pittance. And more recently people who were under observation as victims of internet fraud — many of whom were elderly.

A wide number of both men and women of all ages, but mostly over forty, were currently being targeted by perpetrators of romance fraud. This new, specialist unit, expensive to run, was performing a crucial service, carrying out safeguarding assessments, along with social workers, and working with financial institutions to identify victims — and potential victims — and work with them and their families to try to prevent them parting with their cash.

Many of the victims were elderly and vulnerable with mental health issues, such as dementia and other age-related illnesses. Among the questions facing the team was whether targeted victims had the capacity to make informed decisions or were they just making unwise choices. Increasingly the police were being helped by the staff of money services bureaux, post offices and supermarket banks. There were protocols in place involving all high-street banks and post offices on reporting suspicious transactions. There were likely to be few good reasons, in this team’s view, for any elderly Sussex resident to be sending large sums of cash to Ghana or Nigeria.

The exponential growth of telephone and online fraud had resulted in a step change for the police. In the past, policing policy had been ‘let’s go after the offender’. But with romance fraud, in particular, mostly originating overseas, there were simply not the resources to send officers out to those countries. Too often police forces would have to close their files, marked ‘Undetected’. It was Sussex Police’s Operation Signature that had led the way forward.

The biggest task for the Safeguarding Team was to try to persuade individuals to take a step back and look at the evidence and reality of the situation. One recent such fraud had suckered in a staggering thirty-seven women around the globe — three of whom were in Sussex, their ages ranging from sixty-five to eighty-nine. It was easy for the fraudsters to give a plausible story. All of the women were in love with a hunk of a tattooed bike-fanatic US soldier, whom they thought was in love with them. It had been relatively easy to persuade the three Sussex victims simply by showing them the source photograph of the soldier.

One of the main reasons for victims not coming forward, the team knew, was embarrassment. Many of the victims were smart, professional or former professional people who were supposed to know what they were doing. It was hard for a worldly-wise person, who had handed over every penny they had, to admit this to friends and family. Just as it was equally hard for police officers to have to break the news to someone that their internet lover, who had spent a year rinsing them, did not actually exist.

Behind DS Medlock was a large monitor on which, in turn, examples of the latest sophisticated banking scams identified by the team’s researchers appeared. Emails purporting to be from the high-street bank HSBC warning the recipient their online account was being hacked and to immediately enter their password and change it, along with all other details. Another, similar, from Apple. And another, seemingly from their own Sussex Police Financial Crimes Unit, looking totally authentic, until two spelling errors were pointed out along with the bogus email address, carefully masked.

Next, the people currently on their radar appeared, with a few lines of background. As each one came on the screen, the DS asked her team for any updates.

After twenty minutes of going through the list, they reached the romance fraud category, and a photograph of a handsome, distinguished-looking silver-haired man in his late fifties appeared. His name, below the image, read Major John (Johnny) Fordwater. Financial Crimes Safeguarding Officer DC Helen Searle, a woman in her thirties, raised an arm on which were several chunky bracelets. ‘A bit of a sad story here, boss, I’m afraid. His name first came to our attention two months ago, during Intel’s surveillance of Sakawa Boy social media traffic from Ghana. I actually went to see Major Fordwater myself to try to convince him that he was the victim of fraudsters, but he was, frankly, very rude to me, and refused to believe me. Unfortunately, at that time, I didn’t have the photographic evidence that might have convinced him. So far as he was concerned he was very much in love with a German lady called Ingrid Ostermann, and we were mistaken. Subsequently he has been interviewed twice by DS Potting and DC Wilde, and I understand he has now been presented with the evidence and has accepted the situation — at least I hope he has. He’s paid out about £400,000.’

There was a gasp from the room.

‘Four hundred thousand?’ DS Jon Exton said. He had been seconded from Major Crime because he had previously been in banking before joining the police.

‘Correct, Jon,’ Searle said. ‘He’s in despair. I understand he faces losing his home. He is now cooperating with us.’

The next photograph and name appeared, ‘Betty Ward’. Below was a brief description. Another officer raised his hand — DC Kevin Hall, also seconded to the team from Major Crime.

‘Guv, we’ve had a lot of help on this one from Tesco’s Service Bureau. This is an elderly widow in Brighton, who struggles to get out of an armchair, a blue-rinse granny who is convinced she is in love with the man in the next image and sleeps with a photograph of him beside her.’ He pointed at the screen and everyone in the room turned towards it.

The image was of a young black man with a six-pack and a smiling face, naked apart from a pair of skimpy budgie-smugglers that left little to the imagination.

‘He has been telling Betty for several months that he cannot wait to come to England and make love to her. I won’t go into the graphic details of all the sexual things he’s told her he plans to do with her. But what I can say is that this lady can only walk with the aid of a Zimmer and, fair play to her, the photographs she’s posted of herself to him don’t exactly make her out to be a Page Three girl.’

As photographs appeared of a frail-looking lady in her finery, there were a few raised eyebrows.

Hall went on. ‘A member of staff at Tesco in Shoreham contacted us to say they had concerns. This lady, Betty Ward, had sent two MoneyGrams to Ghana, the first to a “Mickey Mouse”, the second to a “Michael Jackson”.’

The sniggers turned into a ripple of uncomfortable laughter.

‘Seriously,’ Hall said, ‘this guy, whoever he is, convinced her it is just a loan to help with his hospital bills after a car accident, and to pay for treatment for his mother who has cancer. He told her to send the money to these names, otherwise the government would take fifty per cent of it in tax. And she believed him. She’s totally besotted with him. She’s sent him £27,000 to date. Tesco have agreed not to process any more of her MoneyGrams and to let me know if she shows up again wanting to send another. I’ve also alerted Western Union and all the other MoneyGram service bureaux in the area.’

Medlock thanked him and moved on to the next victim on their radar. The name ‘Ralph Beresford’ appeared. ‘This is a new one.’

‘Yes, ma’am,’ a young DC from Brighton, Preena Gadher, said. ‘A widower, reported by his daughter who is very concerned. Mr Beresford is seventy-seven, a retired chartered accountant, and has early-stage dementia. She visits her father every week and noticed two days ago that he had an image of, shall we say, a somewhat curvy woman on his computer screen. When she asked him who it was he very proudly said it was his new girlfriend, that she was Romanian and he’d met her on the internet three months previously. He told her the poor woman was in trouble, with nowhere to turn to, and he was helping her to get her life straight. The daughter has access to his computer and checked out his bank. Turns out over the past three months he’s been cashing in stocks and shares, buying Bitcoins and making substantial transactions with them.’

‘How substantial?’ Sally Medlock asked.

‘The biggest was £250,000.’

‘Is he loaded, Preena?’

‘No, but he’s comfortably off — or was. He’s now in the process of doing one of those equity-release schemes on his house.’

‘And the daughter sees her inheritance vanishing down the khazi,’ Exton said.

‘Along with all his plans for a comfortable old age,’ Gadher responded. ‘The Romanian woman in question, Sorina Vasile, spun a story to Mr Beresford about her brother being wrongly accused of murder and banged up in a terrible jail. She asked if Beresford would loan the bail money, which of course he would get back.’

‘Of course,’ Medlock said.

‘I’ve done some background checks with Interpol and with the British Embassy in Bucharest and there is no record of this supposed brother at all. I believe she is using a false name, as well.’

‘What actions are you taking?’ Medlock asked.

‘I’ve contacted Adult Social Care. I’ve also spoken to his bank manager, but with all the new data protection regulation — the GDPR — it’s not easy to intervene there. The manager is sympathetic and aware of the situation, but says that beyond warning his client that the money may not be going to whom he thinks, there is nothing he can do to stop him. I think the daughter’s taken more dramatic intervention — she’s changed the password on his computer, effectively locking him out, and hidden his chequebook. I’ll know more after social services have visited him.’

Sally thanked her and they moved on. A photograph of a neat-looking man in his late thirties in a business suit came up. The name beneath read ‘John Southern’.

DS Exton raised a hand. ‘I’m dealing with this one, and there seem to be a growing number of cases like this coming to us, boss,’ he said. ‘It’s a bit sad. Southern was put through to me and asked to see me in confidence. He’s a Brighton solicitor, married with three kids. For whatever reason, he signed on to an internet dating agency for married people seeking affairs. He met a lady who told him she was also married and their exchanges, over a few weeks, became increasingly — er — fruity.’

The very straight-laced detective blushed then went on. ‘She started sending him pictures of herself in a state of undress and asked him to reciprocate. Which he did. Then she asked him to show her pictures of his — er, member — aroused.’

‘Member of Parliament, would that be?’ Kevin Hall quizzed. Several of the team laughed.

‘It then progressed further. She sent him a video of herself masturbating and asked him to send her one of him doing the same. Which, unfortunately, he did — very foolishly, he now realizes. The next thing that happened was her threatening to expose him on Facebook to all his followers. To circulate the video. His followers included his wife and three children. She started with a demand for £5,000, which he paid. Then one for £10,000. It was followed by one for £25,000. He’s not a wealthy guy, he’s only a junior partner, but he managed to find and send the money. But now he’s had a demand for £100,000 and that’s when he contacted us — fortunately. The only way he could raise this would be by remortgaging his house — which couldn’t happen without his wife consenting.’

‘What have you advised him, Jon?’

‘I’ve told him to string her along for the moment, tell her — whoever her is — or the people behind her, more likely — that it will take him time to raise the money.’

‘I think this is definitely one for Digital Forensics,’ Sally Medlock said. ‘But he’s going to have to take the risk of the threat being carried out.’

‘He’s petrified of it getting out there.’

‘He shouldn’t be such a wanker!’ Kevin Hall said.

‘Watch out, Kevin,’ DC Charlotte Williams said. ‘You’re sounding like Norman Potting!’

Next, a photograph of a striking woman in her mid-fifties with long dark hair and a provocative expression appeared. The name beneath was ‘Suzy Driver’.

Williams signalled to the DS.

‘Yes, Charlotte?’

‘This is an interesting one, ma’am. Mrs Driver is a fifty-five-year-old wealthy widow in the city — her late husband was an antiques dealer. She’s sussed that she’s being scammed and has done quite a lot of work checking out her scammer on the internet, before contacting us. I interviewed her at her home. She has challenged her apparent “lover” to meet her in person. The email trails that Intel have come up with point to Germany.’

‘Germany again?’ Sally Medlock said. ‘This is getting interesting, a new area for us. Historically we have mostly Ghana, Nigeria and Eastern Europe.’

‘Mrs Driver’s been very cooperative,’ Charlotte Williams said. ‘Fortunately, she’s not parted with any money — it was the request for a loan that triggered her suspicions.’

Unlike most of our victims, the DS rued, privately. ‘What’s the latest with her?’

‘Well, she’s given us the name of her scammer, a Dr Norbert Petersen, who claims to be a Norwegian geologist, residing in Oslo. Digital Forensics have found his name, and same identity, on five European internet dating sites. He’s using images of a gay Brighton man, Toby Seward, a professional motivational speaker married to an architect, Paul Sibley. Digital Forensics are currently working on trying to uncover his real identity with the lady’s help. Mrs Driver has been very smart.’

‘In what way?’

‘She’s keeping up the pretence to Petersen. Although she’s told us she is certain the man’s ID is phoney, she’s pretending to him that she accepts his explanation, and that she is going to arrange the money — the £20,000 loan he’s asked to borrow for his grandmother’s hospital bills.’

‘Brilliant!’ Medlock said. ‘How long can she keep up the pretence?’

‘I think for a while. She has a daughter in Melbourne who’s due to give birth to her first grandson and is booked on a flight next weekend to go out to stay with them for a few weeks. Petersen has been very clever too. He told her he was coming to England to see her. When she replied that she was going to Australia for a while, he begged her to stay on in the UK for a bit longer. She said she’d bought a non-refundable air ticket and he immediately offered to reimburse her if she cancelled it.’

‘What would happen if she called his bluff, Charlotte?’ DS Exton asked.

‘He’d probably come up with one of the excuses they all use,’ said DS Phil Taylor, who had headed the fledgling former High-Tech Crime Unit some years back. ‘A car crash on the way to the airport. Or problems with his visa requiring a huge bung. Or a sick relative. They know how to yank the heart strings. They learn that on their first day.’

‘Twenty grand is a big chunk of change,’ Medlock said. ‘Not many people can come up with that amount of money instantly. Can’t she say it’s in an account where there’s a period of notice?’

‘I’ve suggested that. But as yet she’s not responded. I’m sure she will use every excuse she can, she’s a feisty lady. And it will be a lot easier for her if she is in Australia.’

The DS thanked her and they moved on to the next of the names on the list. As they did so, DC Charlotte Williams looked at her phone, checking for texts, then emails. During the past few days, Suzy Driver had been in constant communication with her, either by phone, text or email. But it was worrying her that she’d heard nothing from her since Friday evening.

She sent her a text.

By the end of the meeting, twenty minutes later, there had been no reply. She made a note to try calling her later.