Dead at First Sight

69 Wednesday 10 October

Jack Roberts sat at the oval table in his meeting room, dressed in a smart, brown open-neck shirt and suit trousers, listening intently to his client. Johnny Fordwater looked every inch the retired soldier and must have cut quite a dash when he was younger, Roberts thought.

Seated across the table from him with fine, military posture, the retired major still had all his hair, a good salt-and-pepper shade of grey and neatly groomed, if in an old-fashioned style. His clothes, too, were conservative. He wore a tweedy suit over a checked Viyella shirt and a club tie. Wrapped up in his anger, ignoring his steaming coffee, the bottles of water and the plate of expensive biscuits, Fordwater poured out his story from start to finish, while the red light on the recorder on the table blinked steadily.

It was the same story, with minor variations, Jack Roberts had been hearing all too often during the past couple of years. ‘Four hundred thousand pounds?’

‘More or less,’ Johnny Fordwater said. Then, as if embarrassed to admit it, added, ‘Perhaps a bit more.’ He shrugged. ‘Four hundred and fifty, actually.’ His anger spent, he looked at the private investigator balefully. ‘I’ve been a damn fool, haven’t I?’

Roberts shook his head. He felt genuinely sad for his client. This was a man who had made serving his country his career. No one went into the armed forces to get rich, and there were plenty of his equally well-educated contemporaries who would have taken a different path and gone for high-paying careers in the City or elsewhere. Fordwater had clearly been a fine soldier, honoured with one of the highest decorations for bravery the nation could give. He didn’t deserve to be in this place now.

‘No, Mr Fordwater, you haven’t been a fool at all. You did what anyone might do in your situation, finding yourself alone, with very many active years in front of you.’

‘You’re kind. You see, the thing is I had a wonderful career in the army. There I was a somebody, I felt wanted. When I retired, for a while I had a focus — my wife, who became terminally ill. I retired early to look after her and for the next three years I was pretty much her nurse and carer, round the clock, until she passed away.’ He gave a wan smile.

‘And I suppose, looking back, that’s when it all started, really. I found myself walking down a street, feeling no different from when I was in my twenties, but pretty girls didn’t even bother looking at me. I tried to get a job, but no one was interested in a man of my age. I started to feel I was on the scrapheap, that this was it. I even toyed with joining the Scientologists, they at least were welcoming and wanted me. Then I bumped into an old army chum, Gerry, who reminded me he’d found the ideal woman through an internet dating site. He convinced me to have a go.’

‘So you did?’ Roberts asked.

‘Yes, and I met Ingrid. She gave me back my feeling of self-worth and made me feel wanted again. She — or whoever it really was — is clever. Knew how to pull all the strings.’ He looked wistful. ‘You know, I believed her, I really did.’

‘Mr Fordwater, my wife and I have a number of friends who’ve found love through internet dating agencies. Unfortunately, there are some extremely cunning scumbags out there — I think you might be surprised to know just how sophisticated their techniques are, thanks to digital technology. Yes, you are a victim, but please don’t ever think you are a fool.’

‘You’re very kind,’ he replied. ‘I wish I could agree with you.’

Roberts knew from experience that all internet scammers had their subtle differences. Their specific MOs — modus operandi. Whether it was running banking scams, phoney retailer scams or romance fraud. The way they talked to their marks, the time spans over which they let everything play out, reeling in the victim little by little. Roberts employed an analyst who had created algorithms to spot any similarities between scams. Not that Jack Roberts needed a computer very often, he was an experienced enough PI to recognize patterns without the help of technology. And he was recognizing one now.

Without even running the case file through the algorithms, he was already certain that Johnny Fordwater and his US pal, Matthew Sorokin, were victims of the same scammers who had targeted his client Elizabeth Foster’s mother, Lynda Merrill.

He was also recognizing something else in the quiet anger of the old soldier — a kindred spirit. He decided to test the water. ‘Major, you told me when we started that you’re aware it would be all but impossible to recover any of the money you’ve lost, and I’m afraid I would have to agree with you. So I’m not quite sure how my agency can help you?’

‘You can help me by finding the scammers. Taking me to them. Then leave the rest to me.’

‘You want to take the law into your own hands?’

‘What law?’ Johnny Fordwater said, defiantly. ‘You know damned well that only the tiniest percentage of these bastards will ever be caught and brought to justice by the police, don’t you?’

Roberts shrugged. ‘I’m afraid so, yes. The majority are operating way out of UK jurisdiction, mostly in countries where the police are institutionally corrupt.’

‘Exactly.’

There was a long pause before Fordwater continued.

‘I’ve spent most of my life fighting enemies of our nation, Mr Roberts. The nature of the beast constantly changes. Eighty years ago, long before my time, it was the Nazis. More recently it’s been the IRA, al-Qaeda, ISIS. You might not put internet scammers on the same footing, but they’ve destroyed my life and, from what I read, the lives of countless others. These people are a scourge.’

‘I can’t disagree with you,’ the PI replied.

‘I still have a little bit of money left, Mr Roberts. We haven’t discussed your fees yet, but so far as I’m concerned, every penny I have left in the world is yours — if you can get me the names of whoever did this to me. And an address where I can find them. I have some contacts at quite a high level in international policing — one is in a similar position to me.’

‘I may be able to give you some leads,’ the PI said. ‘Although I’d be doing myself out of a lucrative part of my business if they were arrested.’

Johnny looked at him, unsure whether he was joking. ‘Really?’

Roberts shook his head. ‘No. I’ve seen too much misery. If I can help you bring even one of the bastards out there to justice, I would be very happy.’