Hotel security in the hands of housekeeping staff

hotel security
Hotel Security: Can you identify this thief?
Can you identify this thief?

Loot ‘n scoot: Through my police friends, I learned of another devious M.O. resulting in theft from hotel rooms. The thief simply poses as a guest. Wearing pool attire, she enters a hotel room that has a housekeeping cart at the door, as if she’s just returning to her own room from the pool. She tells the maid that she forgot her key, starts looking for it, and dismisses the maid. I suppose her beach bag is big enough for all the goodies she grabs, and she scoots out in her swimsuit looking as innocent as can be.

Hotel security: Maid left hotel room open and empty.
Maid left hotel room open and empty.

In another version, a female thief gets a nearby housekeeper to open a hotel room door because she’s carrying a heavy load. She may or may not have spotters on the lookout for guests returning to that floor.

Hotel security

In both cases, the security of our belongings is in the hands of the maids. How well are they trained? How much discretion do they have? When should they break the rules in order to be nice? When should they bend the rules in anticipation of a nice gratuity? What about temporary workers during the hotel’s high season—do they receive as thorough training? How many of us have approached our room only to find that we forgot our key, or the key doesn’t work, and a nice service staff member volunteers to let us in?

Hotel policy is one thing; compliance is another. How do you react when you find that your key doesn’t work (for the third time), the front desk is far away (giant hotel), your feet hurt and your arms are full and you’re dead tired, and the maid with a master key says “I’m sorry. It’s for your own security.”?

The burglars described in the recent police bulletins were females of average height and weight, 50ish and blonde. Nicely generic. The maid may believe she’s seen the impostor; and perhaps she has. Should she risk offending the “guest”?

Perhaps the maid should be required to ask the name of the guest and match it to a list. Yeah, a list on a clipboard left on the cart, that the thief’s accomplice copped a glance at. Perhaps the maid should be required to snap a photo of the guest “for your security.”

As a very frequent hotel guest, I have many times returned to my room to find the door left open by housekeeping staff “just for a minute” while they run to do something else. This always infuriates me, as there’s usually a laptop or two left out, as in the photo here, not to mention other valuables. But this is simply housekeeping error, and with proper training, can be corrected. The impostors described above are skilled social engineers, harder to protect against.

Bruce Schneier is currently blogging from SHB09, the Second Interdisciplinary Workshop on Security and Human Behavior, at MIT. I doubt if discussions covered “tricking hotel maids,” but what a complicated and interesting subject. I would have liked to be a fly on the wall there. Instead, I can read articles by the presenters.
© Copyright 2008-2009 Bambi Vincent. All rights reserved.

Street crime in Buenos Aires

Pianist Stephen Kane
Pianist Stephen Kane

When my friend, Stephen Kane, described what he witnessed on a recent afternoon in Buenos Aires, I begged him to write it down for me. Following is his account.

Bad action in Buenos Aires

Prior to my first visit to Buenos Aires I was warned about the mustard/ketchup gag. As you’re walking, carrying a shoulder bag, someone sneaks behind you and squirts mustard or ketchup on your back. The accomplice later offers to help you clean it off. You remove the bag from your shoulder to do that and then it disappears along with the thief. So I felt particularly foolish when it almost immediately happened to me. I noticed I had been squirted but just kept holding my bag tightly and walking until I was safely out of the area. I have been back to Argentina many times and, thankfully, have never been threatened with robbery again.

So I suppose I was due for one particularly eventful day. I wasn’t the victim but the witness of two different scenes.

I was having Saturday lunch in a cafe on the corner of Corrientes and Florida. I was sitting at the window and had a very clear view of the crowd of people and traffic at the intersection. If I hadn’t been looking in the right direction I’d have never seen it happen. It was much too fast; so fast that nobody nearby realized it had happened until it was over. A tall, beautifully dressed girl was standing with her boyfriend waiting for the light to change so they could cross the street. Mixed into the traffic speeding down Corrientes was a large motorcycle carrying two men. The cycle suddenly stopped right in front of her and the man on back jumped off. He grabbed the girl from behind, putting one of his hands over her mouth to keep her from screaming. With the other hand he grabbed her necklaces and purse. By the time she was able to even make a sound and alert her boyfriend the thief was back on the cycle with his accomplice and speeding away in escape. But the event wasn’t finished. Someone standing nearby actually did see the robbery and managed to capture a picture of the thieves on a cellphone camera. I watched as they all summoned a policeman and showed him the photo of the cyclists. Of course, during the discussion that followed, the victims were much more animated than the policeman. After pleading with him for several minutes they eventually gave up and went on their way. So did the crowd. So did the policeman.

Petter, a thief in Lima, told us that one member of his team always carries a knife.
Petter, a thief in Lima, told us that one member of his team always carries a knife.

After lunch I walked a few blocks down Florida and turned into a small, uncrowded side street. I noticed a commotion in Continue reading

Scams at restaurant tables

Busy waiters at outdoor restaurants.
Busy waiters at outdoor restaurants.

A restaurant table is a good place to be had. The latest in low-tech scams happened last month in Hoboken, NJ, when a man appeared tableside to collect cash after diners had received their bills. He took their money and walked out the door. Pretty clever.

Why didn’t the customers question the new face? I can answer that, as one who visits restaurants some 200+ days a year. Sometimes we just don’t pay attention to who’s serving us. We’re seated by a host, served water by a busboy, solicited by a sommelier, finally the waiter comes, and sometimes we’re greeted by a manager. The meal might be a business meeting which demands our attention more than faces.

Last week, I had a long, late lunch at Postrio in Las Vegas. When our waiter’s shift ended, she did what customer service people call a “warm hand-off:” she introduced us to the waiter who would continue with us. She could have just left, and when the replacement waiter showed up, we’d have just accepted him.

So the Hoboken bogus waiter simply took advantage of our innate trust. He manipulated his victims by presenting himself as the person they expected; he didn’t even have to say anything. Hand out, money in, bye-bye.

So what did the restaurant do when the customers told the real waiter that they’d already paid someone else? Management did not make them pay again. Which invents an entirely new scam: diners claiming they already paid the bill (even though they haven’t). Perhaps the bogus waiter plans that as his next trick.

In the case of the bogus waiter, the victims were not out-of-pocket due to the goodwill of the restaurant management. Other potential losses while dining out:

© Copyright 2008-2009 Bambi Vincent. All rights reserved.

Social engineering—is it time to curtail trust?

Judy Stevens, who has more than 270 identities.
Judy Stevens, who has more than 270 identities.

A couple of scumbags have been casing neighborhoods in Las Vegas, preying on elders. They chat up residents, pretending to be a former resident or a relative of a neighbor. They ask questions and gather information. When they’ve learned enough about someone elderly on the street, they approach the senior armed with facts and trivia—enough to garner the senior’s confidence. In every case, the bottom line is that they need money. The money’s not for them, of course; it’s for one of the neighbors, who is in a costly (fictitious) emergency situation, something medical, or maybe legal. The two solicitors are merely good samaritans.

Rick Shawn, who has more than 1,000 identities.
Rick Shawn, who has more than 1,000 identities.

Classic social engineering. This pair of con artists has bilked 19 known victims in Las Vegas, all over age 73, out of tens of thousands of dollars. It’s likely that they’re connected to similar incidents in Arizona and California; it’s probable that many other victims exist, unaware they’ve been scammed, or embarrassed to come forward.

It sounds like a couple on a crime spree, but it’s much more than that. From our intensive workshop with NABI, we know that this is organized crime. Assistant district attorney Scott Mitchell called them gypsies. Most likely, they are members of one of the families called Travelers. These families move from town to town as they pull their scams, often on the elderly. They have a large repertoire, including sweetheart swindles, pigeon drops, fake lotto schemes, and home repair. Many of these are combined with plain old burglary.

The Travelers are organized crime families. So organized, that when they find a particularly gullible victim, they pass his info to the next family members scheduled to roll through that town. Then, even if the victim realizes that the roof repair or driveway resurfacing job was shoddy, he won’t recognize the brother or cousin who offers to paint the house with leftover paint from a job down the street, or the sister collecting funds for the sick man a few houses down.

'My dog is accused of eating neighbours chicken Plyz help with bail.' Don't be tempted.
'My dog is accused of eating neighbours chicken Plyz help with bail.' Don't be tempted.

These fraudsters go to extremes in order to impersonate a good samaritan. Through social engineering, they manipulate their victims with a realistic story, bamboozle them with bullshit, dupe them, and exploit them. It always ends one way: the victims’ money in the Travelers’ hands. The two pictured above go so far as to drive their victims to their banks or ATMs.

These two have been arrested and are being held, as of this moment, at Clark County Detention Center in Las Vegas. Travelers are known to have lawyers on retainer and bail money at the ready. Although the two are considered flight risks, they may bail out on the condition that they wear GPS ankle devices.

Actually, that’s not likely. I just spoke with Lieutenant Bob Sebby, Las Vegas Metro, who said that 15 additional victims have been confirmed. Metro is asking other victims to come forward.

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Purse stolen off lap at restaurant

Bags on laps should be safe, but not always.
Bags on laps should be safe, but not always.

Should Have Left it in the Hotel—Gisela and Ludvig Horst checked into their Barcelona hotel and immediately got into an argument. Gisela did not feel comfortable leaving their valuables in the room, though Ludvig was insistent that they should. They’d just arrived from Germany for an Herbalife convention. With 30,000 international participants in town, each sporting big I-heart-Herbalife buttons, every Barcelona hotel was fully booked. The Horsts ended up in the same small, semi-seedy inn Bob and I had chosen for our semi-seedy research. We met them at breakfast the morning after.

The Horsts went out for their evening exploration with everything in Gisela’s purse. They joined another Herbalife couple for drinks at an outdoor café on La Rambla. The avenida was lively, the June weather delightful. Gisela was enthralled by the entertaining parade of strollers, yet she never forgot caution. Conscious of the value her purse contained, she held it on her lap. The foursome ordered sangriá and let the Spanish nightlife swirl around them.

If the Horsts’ cash and passports had been stolen from their hotel room, one might fault them for leaving their things unsecured. Had Gisela hung her purse from the back of her café chair, one could chastise her severely. Had she put it on the ground, out of sight, out of mind, she could be blamed. But Gisela’s handbag was securely cradled right under her nose.

Thinking back, Gisela remembered a middle-aged man seated alone at a table behind them. Was it him? She also sensed the bulk of a man moving behind her and had assumed it was a waiter. Without warning, her bag was snatched right off her lap.

The Horsts lost everything. Besides the tremendous paperwork hassle, the mood of their trip was ruined and Gisela was badly traumatized. She blamed herself and lost confidence in her judgment, though she was hardly at fault.

Personal security is an art, not a science. Information and awareness are everything. In the Horsts’ situation, I may have done exactly as Gisela did, had I been lacking a suitable suitcase to use as a safe. However, I’d try to split up my goodies, and put as much as possible on my body instead of in a grabbable bag.

Excerpt from Travel Advisory: How to Avoid Thefts, Cons, and Street Scams
Chapter Four (a part of): Hotels: Have a Nice Stay

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Thieves in airports

Settling in for a long wait at the airport.
Settling in for a long wait at the airport.

So you’ve made it through security. Does that mean you’re in a secure area? Not secure enough to relax your attention. Thieves have been known to buy multi-leg plane tickets and work the gate areas in each airport, never needing to pass security after their initial entry into carefree-land.

You wouldn’t look twice at the couple sitting back-to-back with you in the departure hall. Smartly dressed, stylish bags, composed manner: they look like frequent international travelers—and they are. The troupe arrested in Paris’ Charles de Gaulle Airport were not French, but South American. They, and other sophisticated gangs of thieves take the same international flights as their victims, stay in the same hotels, and attend the same trade shows, sporting events, and operas. “They’re clever, don’t take chances, and do a lot of damage,” a French police officer said. “They keep the cash and sell off everything else—credit cards, passports.”

“These gangs systematically comb all major international airports on both sides of customs,” said an undercover police officer at Amsterdam’s Schiphol Airport. “They often fly between five or six airports on round-trip tickets,” explained the crime prevention coordinator for the military police there.

A presumption of safety prevails past security.
A presumption of safety prevails past security.

Many airports around the world have installed camera surveillance, which has cut theft of bags and theft from bags. In Cape Town, for example, while an inbound visitor stood at a car rental counter with his luggage behind him on a trolley, a thief simply lifted one of his bags, popped into a men’s room, changed clothes, and walked out with the stolen property. After leaving it in a waiting car, he returned to the baggage hall to scout for more goodies. It was all caught on tape.

Trains between concourses are another area where personal property goes missing. On these, as well as in airport shops and restaurants, one must maintain vigilance. This is especially difficult for people who don’t travel often and live in small towns where safety is almost a given. Thieves home in on relaxed attitudes like heat-seeking missiles.

What works: keep physical contact with your property.

Excerpt from Travel Advisory: How to Avoid Thefts, Cons, and Street Scams
Chapter Three (part-c): Getting There—With all your Marbles

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More about airport theft:
…¢Airport danger and the strategist thief
…¢Laptops lost in airports
…¢Luggage theft at Las Vegas airport carousels

Confessions of an airport thief

Kharem, a pickpocket we've observed in Barcelona since 2001.
Kharem, a pickpocket we\’ve observed in Barcelona since 2001.

Kharem’s Lucky Haul

Kharem, a pickpocket in Spain, sometimes chooses Barcelona’s airport over the rich pickings of the city. When Bob and I again found Kharem at work on La Rambla, nine months after we’d previously interviewed him, we asked how he’d been.

“Supremely good!” Kharem said. He swept his thumbtip against his forehead, fingers fisted, in a quick, subtle gesture.

“He actually said …˜son-of-a-bitch good,'” our translator clarified. Our friend Terry Jones was tagging along on our prowl that day. His own street crime expertise was more in the bag snatch discipline than the pickpocket branch. Although he’d watched the local thieves with fascination and sometimes wrote about them, he’d never interviewed one. Now he translated our conversation, intrigued and electrified by the novelty.

Kharem at work in Barcelona, carrying a coat with which to hide his thefts.
Kharem at work in Barcelona, carrying a coat with which to hide his thefts.

“But haven’t there been fewer tourists?” Bob asked. We’d last met Kharem just a few weeks before September 11. “Let’s get away from the crowd and talk.”

“The work is good at the airport,” he said. “I robbed an Egyptian there. It was son-of-a-bitch good. But yes, there are fewer tourists and it has affected my business. Also, there are more policemen around.”

The four of us ambled up a narrow side street in Barcelona’s Gothic Quarter. I tightened my grip on our camera bag. Bob was filming Kharem openly.

“Do the police arrest you more than they did last year?”

“No, they don’t arrest me. They just take the money and let me go,” Kharem said, flipping his thumbtip against his forehead again. “The police are not very good; they don’t have much experience. I’m better than they are, in the street.” He smiled bashfully and looked at the ground.

“Is there more bag snatching?”

“Yes, but they’re young people who don’t know how to work. If all you want is a wallet, you can take it without violence. But these people don’t know how to work clean. They’re young, and some of them are on drugs. Many children have come from Morocco this year, since Spain and Morocco are side by side. These Moroccan children work in a crude and unsophisticated way.”

Kharem, perhaps pleased by our attention, clowns for our video camera. "Let me be in your movies," he said. Our good friend Terry, right, interpreted.
Kharem, perhaps pleased by our attention, clowns for our video camera. \’Let me be in your movies,\’ he said. Our good friend Terry, right, interpreted.

“I think he’s a little proud of his own skill and style,” Terry added.

“Besides La Rambla, I work in the metro and sometimes at the airport. The Egyptian I mentioned—it was a briefcase I took from him just last week in the airport. It had thousands of dollars in it.”

“How did you take it?” Bob asked.

“I threw some money on the floor,” he said, “let me show you.” He bent to take our canvas bag from the cobblestones where it was safely lodged between my feet. I looked at Bob, but he didn’t seem concerned about letting this known thief and now confessed bag snatcher handle our $15,000 sack of stuff.

Kharem lifted the bag and took two steps away. As if in slow motion, I watched our camera, mixer, mic, and tapes of fresh footage retreat, and waited to see Kharem lunge and dash away with a fine fee for little chat. We’d greeted him like old friends, I recalled; we hadn’t criticized his way of life. Must we show this much trust? He’s not our friend. And we certainly are not his. But the alternative was unpredictable.

It's hard not to like Kharem in conversation, but we remind ourselves: he's a thief.
It\’s hard not to like Kharem in conversation, but we remind ourselves: he\’s a thief.

I could have stopped him from taking our bag, or snatched it out of his hands, or just said “sorry, I don’t think so.” And what might Kharem have done then? Did we care about preserving a relationship for the future? Or did we just not care to insult a person who’d revealed to us the most intimate secrets of his life?

Kharem set the bag down gently at Terry’s feet, steadying it so it wouldn’t tip. He tossed a couple of €10 notes and Terry twisted to watch them flutter to the ground.

“He bent to get the money and I just walked off with his briefcase,” Kharem said, lifting our bag once again. He smiled, swiped his thumbtip against his forehead, and handed the bag to me.

Excerpt from Travel Advisory: How to Avoid Thefts, Cons, and Street Scams
Chapter Three (part-b): Getting There—With all your Marbles

Copyright 2008-2013 Bambi Vincent. All rights reserved.

More about Kharem:
A pickpocket updates his technique
Barcelona street crime
Consorting with thieves
Stalking a moving target

Airport danger and the strategist thief

Airport security.
Airport security.

“Did you know you’re wearing mismatched shoes?” a well-dressed Englishman said to our friend, Brooks, at London’s Heathrow airport one day.

Brooks was talking on his phone, frantic at finding out that he was supposed to be at London’s other airport, Gatwick. He locked eyes with the stranger. “I am not!” he said, refusing to be distracted. “And you’ll not succeed in grabbing my briefcase!”

Brooks had become security-obsessed hearing our tales.

“Pardon me, then. But you are.” The man walked away, intentions defeated, whatever they were.

Brooks finished his telephone call, feeling rather smug that he’d thwarted a thief who’d tried to distract him. Then he looked down at his shoes, only to see one tasseled, one buckled loafer.

Everyone knows not to leave bags unattended in airports and, lest we forget, we are relentlessly reminded by annoying announcements. Bag-stealing strategists are devious, though. Even if you aren’t looking away from your things, you may be connived into doing so. Questions by an apparently confused or puzzled foreigner touch our good-natured core and we want to help. A moment’s distraction is all an accomplice requires. Who would suspect that the pretty girl asking to borrow your pen is merely a diversion as her colleagues snag your bag?

Or, here’s a good one: you’re suddenly paged. Who would page you at an airport, possibly a foreign airport, or a stopover? Who even knows you’re there? You rush off to find the white courtesy phone, befuddled and worried. The accented voice on the line sounds unclear, yet urgent. You may be asked to write down a number, requiring some gymnastics while you extract a pen and find a scrap of paper. Have you looked away from your briefcase? Have you lost physical contact with it? Where is it, anyway?

Earlier, the thief had examined the object of his desire, your bag. Its luggage tag informed him of your name. The strategist paged you. He distracted you. He created his own plausible situation. Or, as Bob would say, he created a shituation.

TSA
TSA

Airports give the illusion of safeness, especially now with increased security. The swirling crowd of dazed travelers, lost or rushed or tired, makes a perfect haystack for the needle-like thief. Your bag might disappear before you even get inside, in all the curbside commotion. Long, tedious, check-in lines can be disorderly madness in some airports, inducing inattention when you need it most.

Computers and purses disappear, too, at airport security checkpoints. Guards have their hands full keeping order at the chaotic bottlenecks, and they’re watching for bigger fish than bag thieves. Don’t assume they’ll safeguard your bags.

Practically every television news program has shown this ruse. The scam occurs just after you’ve put your items on the belt. Before you walk through the metal detector, a stranger cuts in front as if in a hurry. The equipment buzzes and he has to back up and remove his watch, his coins, something. Meanwhile, you’re trapped in limboland and your bags are free-for-all on the so-called secure side.

If you’re traveling with another person, make a habit of this: one person goes through security first and collects her and your bags as they appear. The other waits to see that all bags go fully and safely into the x-ray machine, and watches the belt to see that it isn’t reversed, leaving your items vulnerable on the other side. If you’re alone, wait for any crowd at the checkpoint to pass, if you can, or be alert to anyone who barges in front of you after you’ve let go of your things.

Excerpt from Travel Advisory: How to Avoid Thefts, Cons, and Street Scams
Chapter Three (part-a): Getting There—With all your Marbles

©copyright 2000-2009. All rights reserved. Bambi Vincent

At large in Rome

A woman carrying a child wandering in Rome
A woman wandering in Rome
A woman wandering in Rome

We spent some time observing this woman in Rome. She carried a child in a sling and walked with another woman. We thought we knew what they were up to, but we never confirmed anything. When they stopped for ice cream, Bob tried to talk to her. They spoke a bit in a garbled mix of French and German, but there was no real content. She allowed herself and the child to be photographed.

mother-child2

©copyright 2000-2009. All rights reserved. Bambi Vincent

Taxi trickery

Thieves in Prague: the three front center will get what the taxis don't.
Thieves in Prague: the three front center will get what the taxis don't.

After an eventful overnight train journey we were disgorged into a very foreign Sunday morning. Not a single sign in Prague’s main train terminal was in friendly English, or any other language we could make out; not even an exit sign. The station was haunted by solitary figures standing, smoking, watching, waiting. It took us half an hour to find a dismal tourist information booth. The grouchy attendant, stingy with his every word, pushed a map at us through a slit in his glass barrier and considered himself done. Averse to bribing a public servant, we persisted with our questions, formulating the same query in endless shapes. Finally, we extracted this gem: taxi fare to our hotel ought to be two hundred koruna, about six dollars.

The taxi drivers had something else in mind.

“Meter,” they said, “more fair.”

Our bags were loaded into the trunk and we got in.

“About how much,” we asked.

“Meter,” the driver insisted. Again we pressed for an estimate, and the driver finally said seven hundred. Seven hundred! Out we got, and out with our bags. The driver said something to the other waiting taxi drivers, and we were certain we wouldn’t get a ride from any of them. So we walked.

A few blocks down the street we flagged down a passing taxi. He too, suggested the meter. We said c’mon, about how much. Three hundred, he said. Okay. We watched the meter start spinning. No way was it a legal spin. As the meter crept to four hundred, we protested, and the driver agreed to a flat three hundred.

“The taxi drivers wanted seven hundred koruna!” I exclaimed in outrage to the hotel receptionist.

“They are thieves,” was his simple reply.

But they were not the thieves we were interested in.

Excerpt from Travel Advisory: How to Avoid Thefts, Cons, and Street Scams
Chapter Two (part-i): Research Before You Go

©copyright 2000-2009. All rights reserved. Bambi Vincent