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When I agreed to hand over my bank
cards after some fraudulent activity on my account there was no reason to be
suspicious, especially as I was the one making the phone call "Hello Mr. Welch, Visa Card Services here." That was
line with which my nightmare started one Sunday morning, hung over, sitting on
the sofa trying to piece together the night before. The person on the other end
of the phone, Mark, told me there had been a number of fraudulent transactions
on my bank account since midnight, adding up to about £1,100. I have never
heard of Visa Card Services before, but then I have never had money stolen like
this before.
He then confirmed the last genuine
withdrawal I made at the Barclays opposite Highbury & Islington station; gave
me a reference number and told me to ring the number on the back of my bank
card. I did just that, quoted the reference number and spoke to someone who
knew all about the supposed fraud.
Some cunning tricksters had apparently cloned my card at an ATM
I had used and then treated themselves to a few things in an Apple store.
Something did not ring true about the whole thing; why would someone with a
stolen bank card only spend £400 in the Apple store, for starters? But I watch
enough consumers’ TV to know that these things happen. The person apparently
helping me, Rajesh Khan in HSBC's card protection department, had all my
details: full name, date of birth and, crucially, my address. When he said a
courier was on the way to collect my bank card for further examination, I did
not need to tell him where I lived. I initially flinched at the idea, but when
he explained it was needed to properly analyse the chip it seemed to make
sense. After all, I had called the bank myself, this was no cold call, and he had
all my details already. That is probably why I also typed my pin into the
keypad of my phone. "It is OK, Mr Welch, we cannot see it, but we need to
perform a pin block." "I have never heard of that," I said,
"but fair enough."
I packaged the card up as requested and waited for the courier
to arrive. Rajesh called back twice, once to say the car was five minutes away,
and again to say it was outside, quoting the car's number plate and describing
the driver. He called again later that afternoon to say they had received the
card and that I would have my money back in a few days. Sucked in by the
efficiency, I went through exactly the same process the following day with my
credit card. The same fraudsters had somehow hacked into my online account and
maxed it out.
But then a few days went by and Rajesh
stopped calling. Worried by this point I was, to my estimations, about £5,000
out of pocket. I called the bank, this time from my mobile. After explaining
the situation to two or three people, I heard the most chilling phrase of all: "But
Mr. Welch, your cards have not been reported stolen."
Realisations kept hitting me as I relayed the conversations,
over and over and over. Why had I given my card to a stranger? Why had I typed
my pin into the phone? How did they have my mother's maiden name? How did they
have my address? And, most of all, why in the name of all things holy had not I
checked my balance to see for myself what the damage was before I even called
the bank that Sunday morning? Well, to answer the last question first, I
suppose I did not want to see what was happening. When I did check, things were
far worse than I had expected, and my rent had bounced to cap it all off
nicely. The Apple store story was all a lie, they had in fact spent thousands
in clothes shops and, best of all, treated themselves to a Dixie Fried Chicken
each evening. Forget the fraud, who spends £95 over three days in a Kentish
Town takeaway?
The rest of it comes down to good faith. Once you call the
number on the back of a bank card and go through security stages, you enter
into a world of trust where you are no longer the boss and the person on the
other end takes over. "My national insurance number” Sure stranger I have
never spoken to before, here you go." By now, I was really panicking. I
called the police who put me on to their dedicated fraud line. After explaining
my idiocy once again they went through the likely series of events that led to
this theft. It all started, according to the police, on the Saturday night
where one of this gang will have watched me take money from the cash point.
That is the details of my last transaction taken care of. Sinister enough, the
thought of being spied on while you are trying to enjoy yourself at a garage
night at the Buffalo Bar, but not the worst of it; the police then believe I
was followed home, which is how they got my address. As for the call: well,
credit where it is due, it is pretty clever. If you call a landline it is up to
you to end the call. If the other person, the person who receives the call, puts
down the receiver, it does not hang up, meaning that when I attempted to hang
up to go and find my bank card, the fraudster was still on the other end,
waiting for me to pick up the phone and call "the bank". As I did
this, he played a dial tone down the line, and then a ring tone, making me
think it was a normal call.
Fortunately my real bank gave me all my money back within 10
days, although I did have to get new accounts and cards. It was a pretty lean
spell, and by the time I got my money back I had spent my last 60p on a tin of
beans. The feeling of total financial ruin, of utter helplessness, is not one I
will forget in a hurry. Setting up all new direct debits was an unholy pain
and, four months on, problems are still arising and my credit rating has taken
a serious knock. I have had to sign up to a number of other bank schemes and
government services to add further layers of protection. I get a monthly
statement of credit checks in my name, for example, so I know if these people
are using the information they have on me again. It took a few weeks to stop
worrying about the same people coming back to my house, too, although spending
hours online reading about the link between bank fraud and violent crime virtually
non-existent, it would seem helped with that.
I like to think I am a tech-savvy,
culturally aware person. I read about internet security, I know about phishing
and all that, yet the knowledge left me when it counted and I handed over all
my money like some wet-behind-the-ears yokel buying magic beans at a county
fair. I'm surprised I didn't offer to help them spend the cash as well, get the
job done properly. Bank fraud is a bigger problem than I had ever realised.
Experts suggest one in four of us will be directly affected at one point or
another, while millions and millions of pounds is pumped into funding
departments such as the ones that sorted out my problem and for the insurance
it took to cover the stolen money. That's our money, paid in extortionate
overdraft arrangement fees and so on. Financial fraud is often deemed a
victimless crime because, ultimately, it is only huge companies footing the
bill, not individuals. Having suffered myself I can say that the stress, upset
and countless hours spent sorting it out tell me it is anything but big scam on
me!
Culled from Guardian
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