"I'm Engr. Kevin Adkins. I am from Phoenix in Arizona, but currently based in Glasgow, Scotland...my son Alvin is coming for an holiday in the States, and i want him to be busy throughout. Therefore, i just want to know if he can always come to you and teach him good things on English every afternoon...I have someone that will always drive him down to your Place, I mean a Nanny. My Son's name is Alvin, he is 13 years old and he hardly excel in those aspects. I want you to calculate total charges for one month and get back to me so we can arrange payment..."
Okay, this email was not entirely strange because I am, after all, a reading and writing tutor. Engr. Kevin Adkins tracked me down through a website for a local SAT prep school. I teach for them regularly but they occassionally send me odd tutoring jobs as well. So I considered it, then got back to him with a price, thinking I'd probably not hear from him again.
Things just got weirder. Engr. Kevin Adkins was evasive about his son's travel plans, but insistent about sending money right away. I told him that students generally bring a check with them, for the price of that session. I discouraged him from sending money ahead of time and I felt like making up a reason to back out all together.
Then a check came, FedEx, from Ohio. It was $2980 MORE than the price of a month of lessons. It is from Suntrust Bank in Altanta, from the Coca-Cola company. With the check were instructions to deposit the money, deduct my fees and any other expenses, and to wire the excess money back to Tara Gill in Washington D.C. I felt slightly freaked out at this point, thinking, at best this is a money laundering scheme. Could I ignore it or was it my civic duty to report it? My friend "Kevin" was now calling, possibly from Nigeria, to see when I would wire the money. At least I knew not to pick up the phone when I saw the international number.
I consulted my wisest friends. Bridget laughed and said, "I think you need to call the police." Scott explained the apparently common "check overpayment scam" (You cash it, wire the money, a few days later it bounces, your money is gone.) Carl and Ken said it sounds Nigerian, and sent helpful links. Everyone was entertained.
So I searched for where I should report this attempted fraud. I called the National Trade Commision--they took a report, but said they will not do anything about it. They said I should give the check to my local police. So I talked to an officer. He basically said he could make a report but there is nothing they can or will try to do. He said I could shred the check (it's still hanging on my wall). He also gave the brilliant suggestion that we should all be careful about who we meet through the internet (end public service announcement).
In the meantime "Kevin" is emailing and calling because now his nanny and son are somewhere waiting for the money. It's urgent they get it so they can get on the plane in time for our lessons to begin. My dad said I should tell "Kevin" that I actually needed all the money to bail my dad out of jail--he was in for assaulting a Nigerian-check-scammer. (My dad has Charles Bronson-inspired theories of justice.) Instead I told "Kevin" I couldn't get to the bank for a few days. I figured if I stalled, at least I was wasting some of his time. It was obviously quite laborious for him to compose his daily emails.
The whole situation had become a source of amusement, but I hadn't had quite enough closure (which I gauged by my lack of desire to blog about it), so I called Suntrust Bank. They said "is it from Coca-Cola? We've seen a lot of those." That took the humor out of it for me. That means people were actually trying to cash them??? That's just sad.
So I lied and told "Kevin" I had been to the bank, and would just wait for the check to clear. A few days later he sent me several local addresses of businesses where I could wire the money. "Kevin" is thorough like that. Then this message:
"I really don't know why I have not read from you because the check has already cleared into your account and the Nanny is waiting to receive the fund from you.... (it goes on)
Waiting to hear from you soonest."
I finally decided to end it:
"Kevin, or whatever-your-real-name-is,
How's the weather in Nigeria? Good, I hope. I can't believe you persist with this. You must know why you haven't "read" from me. You can drop the charade, unless you were really just looking for a pen pal all along. In which case, get back to me "soonest."
Adios, muchacho!
Brenda"
So that was the end of my brush with international check fraud. Hope you enjoyed it more than I did!
