How a stolen credit card number makes cash for a fraudster

credit card shimming
stolen credit card fraud implements

All this talk of stolen credit cards and “skimming.” Then what? What happens after you’ve swiped your card through a tampered-with ATM, gas pump, or bank entry door?

A kid, a computer, and a clever scam that games the system—that’s all it takes to make big bucks, without leaving home. For credit card fraudsters like the teenager who calls himself “d0g,” it’s simply online shopping. He doesn’t handle merchandise, cash checks, or visit drop spots. His butt never leaves his chair, his fingers never leave his keyboard, his eyes never leave his screen.

How fraud with a stolen credit card works

It’s all about shopping, according to Patrick Lambert, who poked around the underground “carder sites” that sell the information from stolen credit cards. Buy one for a few dollars and just go shopping! Well… not quite.

What’s a credit card fraudster to do: buy expensive goods online and have them shipped to his home? Certainly not. In his Interview with a malicious hacker making over $10,000 a week, [Edit 7/8/13: Lambert has taken down his fascinating and instructive article.] Lambert reports how easy it is to find and use these carder sites, and how to turn the hot credit card into hard cash:

So finally, the last question I had was how they manage to get actual, physical goods using that stolen credit card, without having to divulge their address. The way I was explained is that all he has to do is post ads on eBay for popular items that he doesn’t actually have. Then, when someone buys it, he turns around and buys that same item from some online store with the bought CC numbers, and puts the eBay buyer’s address as the shipping location. He makes those stores send the products directly to his buyers, and gets clean cash for them, which he can spend any way he wants. It’s a type of online money laundering. And apparently, the reason why these stolen numbers are sold so cheaply is because a vast majority of them are either already canceled, or maxed out.

Now I’m wondering about the wide-format pro printer I sold on Craig’s List: did I unwittingly sell it to an ID thief and obediently ship it to the innocent third party who supplied the thief with clean money? It could have worked that way, at least if I were a store that accepted credit card payments. In my case, I was paid via PayPal, and the funds cleared. Can a thief fund PayPal with a stolen credit card? I’m not sure…

You can see how this three-way scam works. An innocent and unsuspecting buyer of goods provides clean money in return for real items, and is none the wiser. A merchant sells items and is paid with a stolen credit card. d0g sits in the middle pulling strings and catching the money. Easy!

There’s much more to it though, Lambert learned from d0g. “Doing the crime, getting rich with stolen identities, is really easy. The hard part is covering your tracks, and 90% of the things these people do are for the sole purpose of covering themselves.”

That would include subscribing to a VPN (a secure and anonymous web tunnel), and funding an anonymous online payment system.

This sort of “hacking” (which is not what I would call it) can be done on a large or very small scale, but either way, easily, and causing serious financial damage. If it’s true that one credit card fraudster (like d0g, the teenager) can net over $10,000 a week with a low risk of getting caught, it’s clear that the vocation would attract legions of practitioners. It’s clear, too, that our payment system needs fixing.

* * *

12/22/15 Note to HACKERS: I appreciate when you contribute additional knowledge in the hundreds of comments below, but please realize that this post will not function as a message board for contacting each other. Check it out: all email addresses in the comments below have been deleted. This is done by a human (me), not a robot. So please save yourself (and me) the trouble. Do comment on credit card hacking, but don’t look for business here. Thanks —BV

Later note: Alas, I had to close comments on this post due to soliciting. However, there’s really interesting stuff below. Thanks for all the contributions!

Even later note: Looks like skimmers’ days may be numbered, thanks to the Skim Reaper, a credit card-sized detection device that we can dip into an ATM or POS before using it to determine its safety. Well, we won’t be using it any time soon, at a cost of almost $500, but let’s say maybe bank branch managers will check their machines periodically, and police can check random ATMs.

All text & photos © copyright 2008-present. All rights reserved. Bambi Vincent

Summer Scams to Avoid

Thiefhunters in Paradise. Empty pockets. 404

Empty pockets

Are you going to London for the Olympic games this summer? Are you going to Europe? Are you going anywhere? Bob Arno urges you to be on your toes for these five summer scams and ripoffs, all of which are significantly on the increase.

1. The old pickpocket trick.

Pickpocketing’s been around since loincloths got pockets, but it’s increasing drastically in London and all across Europe. It has become more organized, with gang leaders buying or leasing youngsters under the age of legal responsibility. These kids, under pressure to bring in their “quota,” are more desperate than ever and attempt more brazen thefts.

Remedy: Keep your valuables under your clothing and be extremely vigilant at ATMs. Be sure your Social Security number is not in your wallet.

2. The pigeon poop pickpocket trick.

It’s hard to turn away a kindly good samaritan who wants to help you with a real—and vile—problem. You’ve been dirtied with something disgusting—often “pigeon poop” and lately actual (human?) feces. The con artists who secretly put it on you (or their partners did) use the physical contact of cleaning you off to clean you out. They pick your pocket or, if you set down your bag, run off with it.

Remedy: Sadly, we just can’t trust strangers approaching out of the blue. Antennas up!

3. Smart phone theft.

Smart phones are five times more likely to be stolen than wallets or cameras. (iPads are equally attractive, though harder to steal.) More than 50% of thefts in European capitals this summer are expected to be of smart phones—unless you help change the trend.

Remedy: Don’t leave your phone on a restaurant table or in an easy backpack pocket. Be aware that they are often swiped right out of users’ hands. Try to limit the personal information stored in the phone, and use a passcode.

4. Fake cops.

Naturally, we respect authority. A subset of nasty thieves we call “pseudo-cops” exploit this tendency by flashing fake badges and demanding to examine your cash. They claim to be looking for victims of counterfeiters and will take your cash “for examination,” or take a portion of it without you noticing.

Remedy: Do not show your cash or wallet. Police officers do not check the cash of random passers-by. Ask to take a good look at his badge and police ID. A real cop won’t mind at all. A pseudo-cop will move on to a more gullible mark.

5. Fraudulent websites.

Opportunists are working overtime online offering bogus Olympic tickets and nonexistent accommodations in London. London Metropolitan Police recommend buying Olympic tickets only from the official site, and have reported dozens of known fraudulent websites selling tickets and accommodations.

Remedy: Buy Olympic tickets from official vendors only. Buy accommodations from known and trusted sites or travel agents. Use a credit card to pay for your tickets and accommodations.

For full explanations on thefts, cons, and scams, start at the Thiefhunters in Paradise summary page.

© Copyright 2008-2013 Bambi Vincent. All rights reserved.

Extreme corruption in Egypt

Egyptian street

Egyptian street
A street in Egypt.

An archeologist acquaintance just told me an outrageous story about corruption in Egypt. I had asked him what part of the world excites him—professionally—most. His answer was Israel, but he immediately launched into the difficulties of working in Egypt.

He had been scheduled to meet a fellow scientist in Alexandria. The scientist phoned him and not to come because he was very ill. He’d seen a doctor who had insisted he get to the hospital right away.

“No,” said the scientist, “I’ll go back to Britain.”

“You don’t understand,” the doctor said. “You have a burst [or bursting?] appendix. You need a hospital now!”

The scientist went to the hospital, where he was told there was a long waiting list. Looking around, he saw no one in the waiting room, yet he was made to wait. When this situation did not cause him to instantly and eagerly cough up an appropriate bribe, he was presented with a printed list which helpfully itemized “surgeon, doctor, nurse, operating room,” etc. with suggested [required?] prices.

The payoffs were hefty but the scientist paid them all and had his surgery. The operation was badly done—sponges were left inside him—his life’s savings were wiped out, and insurance refused to cover the baksheesh.

Can this really be true? I don’t know, but it’s a good enough story that I had to retell it here. I have no reason to doubt the archeologist, and it happened to his friend.

And I can relate, in a small way. I remember how, long ago, when visiting Jordan for the first time, Bob and I were held up entering the country due to vague “technicalities” and “delays.” We never got it—that we were supposed to offer a small bribe. Hours later, exasperated, immigration officials finally waved us on and out of their hair.

© Copyright 2008-2012 Bambi Vincent. All rights reserved.

Bob Arno interview on Huffington Post

Bob Arno with catclaw

Huffington Post picked up an interview of Bob Arno from over on JustLuxe.com a few days ago. Here’s a reprint of the question and answers:

Among women who carry a purse or handbag, which ones are safest? How do you position the strap? What’s the worst mistake you see in how they hold and look after the bag?

Bob Arno: The worst, and the most common mistake, is to hang your handbag on back of the chair, or to tuck the bag behind you on the seat. You think you have physical contact with the bag, but fifteen minutes into the meal you forget! I’ve seen surveillance videos in which a gang of three thieves in a well-established luxury hotel restaurant position themselves strategically around a targeted breakfast table, talking to each other on their cell phones. They wait for the perfect moment when the owner of the bag — the victim — leans forward. At that moment, the controller of the gang gives a small hand signal to the other two to execute their independent moves so that everything is coordinated. One accomplice creates a small diversion in front of the table, and the other observes the restaurant staff, to be sure nobody pays attention to the incident. The thief unrolls a soft jacket from his fanny-pack and drapes it over his arm, allowing the fabric to come down over the victim’s handbag. He scoops up the bag under the cover of the nylon jacket. They then immediately leave the restaurant. Coffee shops (such as Starbucks and their competitors) are extremely popular venues for thieves who practice bag stealing.

Conclusion: You must have your purse in front of you and keep physical contact when traveling. If it is a purse with long strap, wear it in front of your body when you are in a vulnerable location or environment.

What’s the safest place for a man to carry his wallet?

BA: Men should carry their wallets in their tightest pocket. Still, that’s not always safe enough. For added security, men might try one of four kinds of under-clothes pouches which are comfortable and functional for easy access, but which make it almost impossible for thieves to steal from.

    1. A pouch that hangs from a string around your neck and is worn under your shirt.

    2. A pouch that hangs from your belt by a loop and is worn inside your pants.

    3. Ankle-holsters in various designs and levels of sophistication.

    4. Underclothing with built-in pockets for valuables. One new product is called Stashitware. Another line is made by Clever Travel Companion.

What’s the best way to respond to aggressive panhandlers, who may or may not be pickpockets?

BA: We’re programmed to be polite to strangers who approach us, even in unfamiliar cities. It’s hard to be cynical or always suspicious. But it’s wise to question the motivation behind an encounter, regardless of how friendly the stranger appears to be. Scammers want to lull you into a false sense of security and then spring the “rope-in” move. I like to prescribe a dose of cynicism, though it’s not to everyone’s taste. In any case, aggression should not be rewarded with a handout. Step aside. Disengage.

Further to that, do gypsies actually exist? Where are they a threat?

BA: In terms of stealing and pickpocketing, they do represent a threat. But they are not always attempting to pickpocket when they simply beg. Young female pickpockets in Europe, age 13-18, often originate from East Europe and belong indirectly to gangs, controlled by organized crime bosses. These bosses travel across East European cities and “lease” young girls from their parents with promises of lofty employment in the service sector in Western Europe. They are then “processed” or tutored in various techniques of pickpocketing. Finally, after the “schooling” they are sent to cities like Paris or London, where they’re chaperoned daily by their controllers at lucrative “theft” locations, such as busy public transportation stations, maybe underground Metros or popular music festivals. These criminals are not violent and are more a nuisance than a serious threat, yet one has to have one’s guard up against them. They’re especially prevalent in the big cities of Western Europe and the United Kingdom.

What should one watch out for in a crowded market or bazaar?

BA: It’s always hard for law enforcement to patrol and observe everything that goes on in a big market. And the thieves are good at spotting undercover police officers. The good thing is that the merchants in popular markets and bazaars have their own security who alert shop owners about lurking pickpockets.

There are many exotic and bustling markets, for example the Grand Bazaar in Istanbul, which appear threatening, but which are in fact extremely safe. Perception can be wrong in either direction. Without listing every exciting bazaar around the world and ranking its safety, lets just say that common sense should rule. Don’t carry more cash than you are prepared to lose. Use those under-clothes pouches. Keep your purse or backpack in front of you (or leave it in the hotel). Markets, generally speaking, accept cash but not always credit cards, although even that is changing now with the abundance of new small portable wireless terminals.

What’s the best way to look after cameras, iPhones and other devices popular with petty thieves?

BA: A smart phone can easily be grabbed off your outdoor café table, with the culprit running (faster than you). I have never met a pickpocket who isn’t using a cell phone he or she previously stole from someone. Have a wide sturdy strap on your camera which is not easy to yank loose. Be sure it has strong clips at the end of the strap. For extreme situations, buy a camera case that actually has an opening in the bottom where the lens points down towards the opening. In other words, wear your equipment in disguised bags which do not have brand name logos on them, but rather something that will throw the thief off his target scent.

Important: Never fight a mugger! Cameras can be replaced, but getting a sharp object shoved into your body is not a good exchange. You cannot predict the behavior of a mugger. Pickpockets on the other hand are not prone to violence.

Please discuss hazards of public transportation.

BA: Public transport is by far the most common locale for pickpocketing. Especially during the moment you enter the tram/car/bus — or depart (at the door). The busier the Metro or the bus is, the higher the risk. Real professional teams travel in groups of three and create their own choke-points or blocking scenarios. Understanding that a large percentage of pickpocket thefts happen on or at public transportation should be enough to cause you to plan carefully and be on guard if the train or tram is crowded. It’s the physical jostling which needs to be avoided. But it’s also extremely easy to avoid the threat with a few obvious counter-moves. Just clasp your handbag solidly in front of you when entering; men can hold onto their wallets.

What are the biggest risks in using an ATM in an unfamiliar location?

BA: There are two threats tied to ATMs. One is the “skimmer,” a small device overlaying the mouth of the ATM (where you push in the bank or credit card). Skimmers can usually be spotted if one looks carefully at the ATM. If you recognize such a device, walk away and alert proper security personnel. Some skimmers are internal, and can’t be seen at all.

Two, and more ingenious, are “shoulder surfers.” They lurk near the ATMs and watch the PIN code used at the machine. When they get a PIN code, they watch where the credit card is put, then follow that person around, waiting for a good moment to steal the credit card.

Always shield your PIN as you enter it. Watch for lurkers, and use a different ATM if you’re suspicious of bystanders or the machine itself. If your card is “eaten” by the machine, try to cancel out of the transaction, even if you have to abandon your card. Do not accept help from a stranger in this situation.
— — — —

Lena Katz wrote the questions.

© Copyright 2008-2012 Bambi Vincent. All rights reserved.

Postcard from Naples

Naples postcard

A postcard from Naples! I recognized the image of the thirteenth century Castel Nuovo right away. It was an old postcard, but lots of things in Naples are old. I turned it over and looked at the signatures. Luciano! One of the pickpockets in our National Geographic documentary! I read the handwriting.

“Dear Bob, Grazie mille for you to come to Napoli. We have very great dinner insieme.”

Great dinner together. It sure was! I was smiling already.

“We all hope you come next year aigain and we have dinner. Molto bene tempe.”

And at the top: “Very great film, Bob”

Wow, the thieves are happy with the film! They’re inviting us back. I was bursting with happiness, and eager to show Bob. This postcard will make his day. His week, even.

I scrutinized the five signatures. Luciano was clear and obvious. Giuseppe, though, who’s that? I don’t remember a Giuseppe. Mario—we know two pickpockets named Mario in Naples, but neither was in our film. Andrea? and what’s that other scribble?

Franco, our favorite thief, had recently emailed us and mentioned that some of his crew had been arrested and thrown in jail. “We both know why,” he’d hinted. Did he mean because they’d made the film? Because they’d flaunted omertà and revealed too much? Bob and I felt guilty. Our intention was not to have the thieves arrested or to otherwise change the course of their lives. Besides, in Naples, everyone knows who the pickpockets are—it’s no secret. They’ve all been arrested numerous times.

Luciano must have been one of those arrested, I surmised. He’s in jail with a bunch of other pickpockets we don’t know by name, but they all saw our film and liked it, and wanted to let us know through Luciano, whom we’ve known since 1998.

They liked it! They’re not mad at us. They don’t feel exploited. They don’t blame us for jail time. They’re inviting us to another festive dinner in a den of thieves!

And they actually went out and found a postcard, dug up our address, bought a stamp, and mailed us a postcard! Bob and I were deeply touched.

[Let me pause here to reiterate what a conflict it is to “like” these criminals. We’re well-aware that their daily business wreaks havoc on their victims. Some victims are scarred for life. They suffer financial loss, sometimes great financial loss, as well as inconvenience. They may lose nonrefundable flights they miss because their passports have to be replaced, they may lose work because they have to extend their stay, they may have to arrange for child care at home, etc. Their vacations are ruined. They depart despising the destination they came to experience. I know. But as we research the methods and motivations of these thieves, we come to know some of them. And some, I have to say, have likable qualities. Their work is despicable, but they themselves often seem to have some redeeming attributes. While we find ourselves “liking” some of these characters, we feel queasy about it on examination. We realize how it comes off, too. We struggle with the contradiction.]

We called Kun, the film’s director, on skype and held up the postcard, front and back. “Wow,” Kun said, “that’s so great. Will you send me a scan?” Kun seemed to feel the postcard was better than film industry praise.

We were telling the world. Anyone who’d followed the adventures of our filmmaking heard about our postcard from the pickpockets. A week after receiving it, we gloated to Bob’s brother in Stockholm.

“Was it signed by Luciano and Giuseppe?” he asked. I saw Bob’s face fall. The self-proclaimed country bumpkin, the infamous practical joker, had gotten us. Bob cracked up. Brother-in-law had snuck off to Italy without telling us, scouted the antique shops of Rome for a Naples postcard, and scribbled the pidgin text. He couldn’t remember all the names of the thieves we’ve spoken of, but one was enough for credibility. We’d eaten it up.

Watch out, brother-in-law. It’s our turn now…

© Copyright 2008-2011 Bambi Vincent. All rights reserved.

Barcelona Street Scams

Las Ramblas crowd“I, too, was a victim of Barcelona street scams…” said more than a hundred people. And they described their own thieves, con artists, fake beggars, purse snatchers, scammers, fraudsters, pickpockets, and thugs. The page, Barcelona Scams, is riveting reading!

My great friend Terry Jones has just packed up his Barcelona life after 15 years of loving life in that great city. While he’s moved on to exciting challenges—he’s starting up FluidInfo—everything he’s acquired in Barcelona had to go. Along with about 3,000 books, he parted with his collection of Barcelona street scams. He gave them to me.

We met though thiefhunting about ten years ago. Terry describes the odd convergence of our ancestral histories here. While Bob and I go looking for thieves, Terry doesn’t make any special effort as a thiefhunter. He’s simply observant. He sees scams and cons all around him (and you).

Barcelona Street Scams

Have you been to Barcelona? Were you pickpocketed or hustled out of money? Tricked, conned, or scammed? If so, did you report it to the police? (I’m asking for survey purposes.) Take a look at Barcelona Street Scams. Add your own Barcelona street scams to this page. Just scroll down to the comment section below. And please do mention whether or not you bothered with a police report. And if so, how you were treated by the police.

Thank you for sharing your Barcelona street scams!

© Copyright 2008-2011 Bambi Vincent. All rights reserved.

Bait and switch—part 4

The bag with the real item is tucked away for another sucker sale
The bag with the real item is tucked away for another sucker sale

Buy-a-Brick (continued from Part 3)

(The making of ABC 20/20: Bait-and-Switch)

The lawlessness of Naples stunned us all. Even Bob and I, who have been there many, many times, were newly amazed at the reckless race of vehicles.

“They say the traffic lights are merely a suggestion,” our Roman driver laughed as he pulled to an abrupt halt. “Here we are.”

We had only a morning to shoot the scene and, as we hadn’t made an appointment with the con men, we’d need luck as well as efficiency. Would they be working? Would we find them on the corners we know of? Would there be any ships in port, full of potential suckers? Bob and I felt the pressure. We’d brought a network news crew all the way to Naples with no certainty whatsoever.

By 9:00 a.m. we were rigged and ready. Bob directed our driver to park at the ferry terminal, where hydrofoils depart for Capri. A small cruise ship was just tying up. That was a good sign.

I banished Bob to the wrong side of the street. Since we had brazenly filmed here several months before, it was possible they’d recognize him. No visible video cameras, we specified, or they’d never offer the sale. We must all be extremely cautious because we don’t know how an angry Napolitano crook might react. Neither do we know if any of the others loitering on the corner are their thugs. What we do know about is the proliferation of mafia gangs in Naples, their turf wars, and their violence.

From the maritime terminal parking lot, we observed the opposite side of the street with binoculars. A large news kiosk hulked on the corner, open for business as usual.

ABC 20/20’s investigative reporter Arnold Diaz and I crossed to the corner where we hoped to find our prey, who’d hope to prey on us. The rest of the crew trailed us at a distance. First we paused at the news kiosk. With hundreds of magazines on display, it would be good for at least ten minutes, time in which we could scrutinize the characters who hung around. Most were selling knock-off watches and showed their wares eagerly.

I noticed two scooters parked on the sidewalk. Both had roomy, lockable storage bins perched on the back. Aha! These, I knew, were where the con men kept their props. Another good sign. Of course, scooters are everywhere in Naples; these could belong to anyone.

Arnold and I moved halfway down the block and examined a shop window full of watches. Our corner seemed quiet. Other than fake Rolexes and cheap leather jackets, there were no deals to be had. Perhaps it was too early. We ambled back toward the magazine stand, wishing for a proposition.

“Cellphone?” A middle-aged man held out a shiny new-model Nokia. “Try! Call your home. I sell cheap.”

“Really? I can try it?” Arnold looked around to be sure the camera crew was in position. “How do I call America?”

“I don’t know, better call Italy,” the man said.

“I don’t know anyone in Italy,” Arnold said. “But it works? I believe you.”

After a little negotiation we settled on a price. $200 for two cellphones. “We can call each other, honey!” I said to Arnold, as he counted out cash. He counted slowly, giving Glenn Ruppel, our segment producer, and Jill Goldstein, our hidden camera expert, time to move into position to catch the switch. The two looked so completely innocent, standing there against a shop window, not ten feet from us. Glenn’s eyes roved everywhere as he pretended to be in an intense conversation on his cellphone. Jill seemed to be bored waiting for him. She looked down at her sneaker, turning her foot a bit as if examining the shoe. In fact, Jill was not looking at her shoe. She was looking into a hole cut in the top of her fanny pack, in which she had a video monitor. Jill had hidden button-sized cameras in the side of her clothing, in order to face away from the action. With the monitor, she could check that she was positioned correctly. Bob was across the street, watching the same scene he’d seen so many times before.

The salesman put the two phones in a box and looked around for his colleague, who came trotting over with transformers. They added these to the box, closed it, and put the box in a translucent plastic shopping bag. The salesman tied a tight knot in the bag.

Arnold handed over the money.

“Have you visited the castle?” the salesman asked, and pointed across the street to the thirteenth century Castel Nuovo. His English wasn’t too good, but he got his point across. He pointed, and our eyes couldn’t help but follow his broad gesture. In that instant, we knew, he and his accomplice swapped bags.

“Did they get it?” Arnold asked me. I glanced over at Glenn, still rapt in his phony phone conversation. He waggled one hand. What does that mean?! Sort of? A little? Don’t know? What to do now? We couldn’t very well back up and replay the scene. Arnold took the knotted bag and the deal was done. There was no hand-shaking.

Grinning, Arnold immediately began to untie the bag. The salesman and his colleague, watching warily, hurried away. Arnold tore open the box and looked inside. A water bottle. No cellphones.

“Hey!” he shouted. “Come back! Stop!”

The two men jumped onto their scooters and roared off into the crazy Naples traffic.

The five of us reconvened.

“Did you get it?” Arnold asked eagerly.

“I don’t know, we’re not sure.” Jill and Glenn said.

“Why don’t we try to interview a police officer,” Bob suggested. “They’re all around us. Let’s see how they react when we show them the water bottle.”

“Good idea,” Arnold said.

We walked across the street to the passenger ship terminal, where we thought there might be a chance of finding an officer who spoke a little English. No luck, but with Bob’s mixture of languages and the water bottle in the box as evidence, they understood perfectly.

“Allora,” the officer said, and threw up his hands. It was the all-purpose Italian expression that here, now, meant: idiots! you get what you pay for!

[This series on bait-and-switch started here.]

Excerpt from Travel Advisory: How to Avoid Thefts, Cons, and Street Scams

Chapter Eight: Con Artists and Their Games of No Chance

© Copyright 2008-2011 Bambi Vincent. All rights reserved.

Bait and switch—part 3

The switch: crude carving made to roughly resemble the original offering.

Souvenir Sucker

Our friend Russell, a magician, works a considerable amount of time each year in Asia. A streetwise New Yorker, he knows pretty much all the tricks played from the East Coast to the Far East.

Russell was in Bali recently, between jobs. He was on a bus crowded with tourists when traffic ground to a halt. The morning was sweltering. Windows were open. Occasional clouds of dust wafted in, more welcome than rain, which would force the closing of windows and bring the interior humidity to Beverly Hills spa levels.

As traffic slowed, then stopped, a raging hoard of pleading faces surrounded the bus. Vendors reached up to the open windows offering their wares. Wood carvings, silver jewelry, and stamped batik sarongs danced in the windows like props in a puppet show. Vendors had only desperate moments to tempt these tourists before they and their dollars vanished down the road.

Always a sucker for souvenirs, Russell scrutinized the merchants, looking for something new. He was not disappointed. He noticed an intricately carved something glowing in the sunlight as its hawker flourished it. The expert salesman caught Russell’s interest and pushed his way near. He proffered his wares for inspection. It was a hollow piece of bone—cow or sheep, Russell guessed—carved with delicate figures in classic Indonesian poses. So thin, it was, the light shone through the bone in warm amber tones.

“Twenty dollar,” the vendor said, scratching a long dark scar on his neck.

“I’ll give you five,” said Russell.

“Ten.”

“Okay, ten.” Russell reached for his wallet and took out an American ten while the vendor wrapped the bone and passed it through the window.

The bus began to move and the vendors scattered reluctantly, some trotting alongside the bus for another hopeful moment. Soon the bus picked up speed and the locals were left in the dust.

Pleased with his find, Russell unrolled his carving from its plastic bag. He stared at it.

It had looked so much finer a moment ago. Now, the blocky figures hacked into the bone felt sharp against his fingers. The delicate details were gone. He held it up to the light. No glow.

The bait: beautiful, intricately carved bone offered for sale in Bali.

Cheated!, Russell thought. They got me, a world-wise New Yorker. He rewrapped his booby prize and looked out at the passing lime-green terraced rice fields, the tall spirit houses, and offerings to the gods placed in the roadside gutters with care.

We ran into Russell in Bali as someone else might bump into a coworker at the grocery store. Together, we strolled along the waterfront of Cape Sari and through an open-air market. Fat pigs and goats lay suckling their broods beside stacks of bamboo furniture, while chickens stood waiting for sale, one to a bell-shaped woven basket. Souvenir t-shirts hung limply above varnished seashells and carved Buddha heads. Postcards outnumbered food items. Just a few years before, we remembered, only eggs and cloth were sold here. As we browsed and wandered, Russell told us about his morning rip-off and, laughing, promised to show us his white elephant.

“Shit! There’s the guy!” Russell pointed and, there, unbelievably, was the man with the scar on his neck, offering the same beautiful piece of carved bone. The three of us watched with fascination as the man made a sale, as he pulled a plastic bag out of his cloth satchel and adroitly swapped artifacts.

It was the classic bait-and-switch, expertly performed. Russell grinned, not at all displeased at having been duped this way.

“He’s a magician!” he said. “Did you see how he used misdirection? Fucking great!”

For a highly skilled young street performer, Russell has been known to toss ten bucks into a hat, and that’s all he’d paid this con man earlier. But he wasn’t quite satisfied.

He strode up to the shyster who, of course, didn’t recognize him at all.

“How much?” Russell asked, and the two repeated their earlier negotiations. Bob and I watched from a distance.

“You don’t have to wrap it,” Russell said, when they’d agreed on a price.

The vendor’s face fell. “Yes, must wrap!”

“No. Besides, I want this one.” Russell held onto the fine sample.

Detail of the offered carving, and the corresponding area on the crude replacement.

“And the guy started to panic,” Russell told us later, with absolute glee. “And behind me, another vendor, a woman, began to laugh and point at us. You could tell she was happy to see this guy getting caught.” Russell was laughing so hard he could hardly talk. Now he flourished the fine bone carving as the vendor had, triumphant. The sun was low and glowed through the delicate design of the salesman’s floor sample.

“I’m gonna put them side by side on a shelf,” he told us, “one beautiful, one crude, and a story to go with them.”

[This Bait-and-Switch series started here. More in the next post.]

Excerpt from Travel Advisory: How to Avoid Thefts, Cons, and Street Scams

Chapter Eight: Con Artists and Their Games of No Chance

© Copyright 2008-2011 Bambi Vincent. All rights reserved.

Bait and switch—part 2

Bags switched behind the buyer's back
Bags switched behind the buyer's back

Buy-a-Brick (continued from Part 1)

Our first clear capture of the actual swap occurred on a sidewalk. The partners were running after their customer, afraid they’d lost the sale. They did the switch behind him, right out in the open. It’s beautiful in slow motion, like world-class magic. You see the “magician’s assistant” hand over one sack, turn, and tuck an identical one under his jacket.

When the sale had been concluded, Bob told the victim he’d just been swindled. The man didn’t think twice. He turned and bolted down the street, caught the con men, and got his money back, no questions asked.

In later visits to Naples, as our equipment improved, we used tiny hidden cameras with remote controls. This allowed us to get the ultimate exposés, including the scenes we helped capture for ABC 20/20.

Eventually, we were introduced to a trio of swap-thieves. I was waiting on a corner with Luciano-the-tram-thief while Bob fetched a translator. He was gone forever, it seemed. Meanwhile, it was my job to entertain Luciano and keep him from disappearing, from going back to work. We tried talking, but both of us were frustrated.

“Pacco,” Luciano said, pointing toward Bait-and-Switch-Central where a few men offered video cameras and cellphones to innocent but greedy foreigners. He waved them over. I tensed, wondering if they’d recognize me, worried about what Luciano was telling them about us. These were mobsters, intimidating men impervious to laws. “Pacco,” Luciano said again, indicating the three men who each had an electronic item in his hand, and I understood that pacco, Italian for package, was the slang term for their swindle. Also, that they all spoke rudimentary English.

“I am Davide,” one of the pacchi said, “and my friend is Guiddo and he is Giandamo.” I was obliged to shake their hands.

“Amigos, four years,” I told them, patting Luciano’s arm. Luciano said something in Napolitano and they all nodded. The pacchi told me that they “change” packages. I said I know, they sell water, or salt. They laughed. I was dizzy with conflicting emotions: high on being “inside” this fraternity of impermeable criminals, and full of fear and revulsion at the same time. With a jovial facade, I took a camera bag from one of them and made a show of tugging a zipper on it, as if it couldn’t be opened. They laughed again, knowing I was referring to the trick of gluing or melting zippers to delay the discovery of the scam.

We struggled with conversation until a few tourists wandered over and the pacchi pounced, pitching their wares. I got instant sweat in my armpits and a heartbeat in my throat. They caught my eye and I gave a barely perceptible nod. Inside, I was petrified. They carried on, eyes flicking back to see that I wouldn’t interfere with their scam. I couldn’t believe they let me stay in the vicinity. One piercing look and I would have fled.

Their quarry eventually decided against the purchase and walked away. The pacchi waited an instant, then ran after the mark making the switch without cover, in front of my watching eyes, and calling behind the mark: “Papa, papa,” hoping now to make the sale at any ridiculous price.

Bob returned just then with an aura of urgency that dominated my attention; the pacchi scene faded out like a movie transition. Officially introduced now, it’s unlikely we’ll be able to film the Naples switcheroo again.

What astounds us most about Naples’ bait-and-switch game is not the fact that it occurs right out in the open in full view of surrounding residents and businesses. Nor is it the perpetuation, the reliability of finding these guys on the same corner, year after year. Nor is it the fact that they haven’t been bashed up by a returning pack of angry victims.

No, it’s that the crime is committed smack under the noses of Naples’ law enforcement agencies. It is, apparently, tolerated, at the least.

The primary location of bait-and-switch activity is directly across the street from the city’s maritime terminal. Visiting cruise ship passengers congregate in the area, and must traverse the corner to walk anywhere. They usually pause there, either gathering the nerve to cross the wild traffic, or recovering from just having done so. Other people are in the area to catch ferries to Capri, Sorrento, or Ischia. There on Via Cristoforo Colombo, tourists and, presumably others, are scrutinized by Marine Police sentries. Naples’ City Police patrol by car and, in packs of five, on foot. There is also the Falchi Squad, the civilian-dressed motorcycle cops who look for “micro-crime.” All these, and the republic’s military force, are usually present on this intersection.

Yet, with all but a nod and a wink, the fearless mobsters carry on.

[Continues in the next post.]

Excerpt from Travel Advisory: How to Avoid Thefts, Cons, and Street Scams

Chapter Eight: Con Artists and Their Games of No Chance

© Copyright 2008-2011 Bambi Vincent. All rights reserved.

Bait and switch

Your greed + a deal too good to pass up = bait and switch:

Bait and switch: One package contains the real item; the other is "rocks-in-a-box"
One package contains the real item; the other is "rocks-in-a-box"

Buy-a-Brick

“Pssssst. Come ’ere. A brand new video camera with flip-out screen. In the box. $250. Here, have a look, try it out. Look, here’s the box, and all the accessories. Battery, a/c adapter, microphone. Only $225? Mama mia! Okay, it’s yours! Here, we’ll put it in the box for you, see? And a bag so you can carry it easily. Okay, thank you very much. Here’s your bag.”

You saw him put the camera in the box. You saw him put the box in the bag. So how did you end up with a sack of salt?

A better question: What were you doing trying to buy a thousand-dollar video camera on a street corner? What were you thinking?

Yes, the seller looked like a decent man, he seemed okay. But that wasn’t his son with him, it was his partner; and their performance together is as precise as a tango. Not only that, there are four or five teams per corner in the hottest areas, competing with such subtlety you’d never suspect they’re running a scam. After all, if they let on, you’re not likely to buy from any of them.

Bait and switch

As usual, observation tells the story. The swindler approaches you with the camera and, once you take it in your hands, he summons his partner, who brings a plastic shopping bag through which you can see a box. The box is opened for you and you see that it contains the promised accessories.

How can you go wrong? You’ll take it! You place the camera in the box yourself, tuck in the flap. You dig for your cash, which you cleverly placed in a pouch beneath your shirt, or in a money belt, or in your sock. You offer the money and take the bag. You even shake hands. What a deal. What a steal!

What you never noticed was the critical switch. You were intentionally distracted for an eyeblink, while the “son” passed by with an identical box in an identical bag. The bags were swapped. It’s the classic bait and switch.

You might think it difficult to fall for a scam like this one, but it happens many times a day on a certain corner in Naples. Ship officers and crewmen are primary targets because the con men know their ships depart shortly after the purchase and it’s unlikely they’ll return. Ordinary tourists are also easily tempted.

Bob and I first observed this trick in 1994, and have watched it develop over the years to include cellphones. In the beginning we were afraid to film it. From pickpocketing and bag-snatching-by-motor scooter to extortion and murder, all crime in Naples is said to be mob-related. The Camorra, Naples’ mafia, is made up of some 80 clans and thousands of members who operate in the city. Not that Bob and I knew that when we began our audacious stake-out of these grandfatherly crooks. But the vague knowledge we had was intimidating enough for a couple of lightweights. If you want to infiltrate the bad guys, you better know what you’re doing.

Eventually we began to film from across the street, and then to acquire bits and pieces up close with an exposed camera held casually. After all, tourists carry cameras and shoot the sights, so ours wouldn’t be incongruous. The following year we were more brazen, and carried a small digital video camera hidden in a shopping bag with a hole cut for its lens. This worked fairly well, though we were nervous as a thief in the act. It was this setup that got us our first clear footage of what we’d seen with our eyes so many times: the switch.

The move is simplicity itself; its timing perfection. The salesman tries to back up to a corner of a building, usually a magazine kiosk or a phone booth, anything to shield the substitution. That allows him to lower his hand and the bag while his unseen partner does the swap.

Our first clear capture of the actual swap occurred on a sidewalk.

[Continues in next post.]

Excerpt from Travel Advisory: How to Avoid Thefts, Cons, and Street Scams
Chapter Eight: Con Artists and Their Games of No Chance

© Copyright 2008-2013 Bambi Vincent. All rights reserved.