I knew what was coming next. As soon as "Stunning Susan" started e-mailing me through the dating Web site I had joined (in the name of research, you understand), I knew. She was going to ask for money. Sooner or later, Susan would turn out to be in Nigeria and need to be wired cash to get out again. It was fraud by numbers — those numbers being 419.
This is the section of the Nigerian penal code such frauds break. They are a form of "advance-fee" fraud — you send money so that they can send you something back but, of course, the money/cruise/girlfriend never turns up.
One well-known form is an unsolicited e-mail from someone claiming to have millions of US dollars they need to get out of the country. They want your bank details to transfer the money to your account, for which they will pay you US$100,000. The outcome is obvious.
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The 419ers have advanced into more cunning frauds. Some win an eBay auction for an expensive item you are selling, then send you a fake Paypal receipt to make you think you have been paid and need to post it on to them. Others will offer a car on a British site at an incredible bargain price. The car is in, say, Germany, and getting it over here will cost ?150 (NT$9,730), so if you go to the DHL Web site and pay for transport, the vendor says, he will knock that money off the sale price. But the DHL site you are directed to is a fake one set up to get your money and card details.
Back to Stunning Susan. Instead of deleting the e-mail, I decide to try my hand at the Web's newest sport: scambaiting. In this game, you score points by wasting as much of the scammer's time as possible and by making him do silly things, such as e-mailing photos of himself holding up embarrassing signs.
"Susan" (no doubt a strapping lad from just outside Lagos) told me "her" mother had died when she was young and that for some unspecified reason she and her rich father had taken a trip to Nigeria, where he had been assassinated for reasons that had slipped her mind. She needed ?300 for an air ticket home.
Using a fake e-mail address, I tell her that I, "Dr Watson," am also an orphan, after my parents died in a freak tobogganing accident. I am a 45-year-old heart surgeon and a member of the Plymouth Brethren, to which I would expect her to convert when she came over to be my wife. Such details made her believe that I was lonely, rich and had had an unhappy childhood — in other words, a prime target for fraud. What you have to remember is that 419 scammers are rather nasty people who prey on the vulnerable.
One of the classic signs of a 419 scam is that your correspondent has little grasp of English. Since Susan claimed to be American, messages such as, "My Dear Jhon, you can call the agent now this the number, where you at the moment, just tell him you call of behind of susan rhodas" had set a few alarm bells ringing. So I call the agent, "Mr James," but with little intention of providing any bank details. Instead, I and a colleague set up a virtual aural operating theater, complete with beeps. Sadly, just as I am about to hand over my bank details, the patient pops his clogs and I am forced to hang up. A few minutes later, I get an e-mail from "Susan" — who must be very close to "Mr. James" — asking what happened.
"My darling," I reply, "I was in the operating theater when I spoke to your travel agent. I was performing a complicated mickjaggerectomy when the patient started to convulse in a strange way. This was only to be expected, but still it was unexpected. He died. Anyway, tell me how I can get you home. Johnny."
She feels my pain: "My Dear watson, Am really sorry about what happend, i when read the mail tear rolling on my face ... . " But she fights back the tears long enough to ask me to call Mr. James again and arrange to send the money. She's a trouper, is Susan.
I agree to send the money and arrange with Mr. James to wire it via Western Union. I e-mail him a few hours later to say it is done (of course, I haven't sent a dime), but that, for some unknown reason I require him to verify his identity by e-mailing me a photo of himself holding up a sign saying "My heart belongs to Robbie Williams."
He tries to fob me off with a photo obviously cut out of a magazine (as is Susan's) and devoid of reference to Robbie. I refuse to send him the codes he needs to collect the cash and continue to refuse for two more weeks. Eventually, he sends me a photo — bearing a striking resemblance to the one he has already sent me — with the words "My heart belongs to Robbie Williams" scrawled across it.
Scambaiting can be fun, and you're probably doing some kind of public service (for tips, go to www.419eater.com). But remember that 419ers have been known to murder their correspondents, so never give out any information that can be traced back to you.
I guess I've wasted enough of Mr. James' time to prevent one person being scammed, so I leave it there. As one last present, I ask him to phone me. Sadly, I get my number mixed up with a premium-rate dog racing tips hotline. It costs ?1.50 (NT$97) a minute from the UK, so God knows what it costs from Lagos.
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