Our Boys in Blue

Last week, whilst I was off drinking wheat beer and eating sausage in sunny Bremen, someone bought £1,400 worth of laptop computer. Considerately, he used my credit card account to do so. It so happens that the computer company employs an administrator with gimlet eye and a suspicious nature. She hunted me down via the internet and left me a message informing me of the transaction. I wasn’t there to receive the message as at that precise moment I was stood in front of an equally suspicious Bremen hotelier who was holding my card in her hand and wanting to know why it had been declined.

I assumed that paying for three cheap hotel rooms in a German port had tripped some fraud detection algorithim so when my clerks phoned to say that I had had a message from someone about credit card fraud I assumed I knew what had happened. Once the truth was known it was the weekend and I had to wait until yesterday to contact Miss Marple at the computer company.

Miss M was in top form. She promised me an immediate refund and then, barely able to contain her glee, indicated that the fraudster had been dim enough to give them his name, address, email address and two mobile contact numbers. Now even assuming that some of that information was false, the delivery address was obviously a good lead. I agreed with her that it wasn’t going to take Sherlock Holmes (or even Officer Dibble) to get onto the trail of this genius.

I contacted the credit card company who confirmed the card was cancelled and provided me with a special number for police inquiries so that the officer assigned to what I was already envisaging as “Case of the Century” need not spend 40 minutes in a phone queue listening to “Una Paloma Blanca” played on the pan pipes by a man with a tracheotomy.

Being a good citizen I did not complain when the Police informed me that their telephone service was under-resourced and that I should ankle down to the station and report the crime in person. In fact, to ease their task I wrote all of the information they could need out in a short typed document. Just in case that was not clear enough (or I was not persuading you all that I am sufficienly anal) I made sure that the key information was in bold type.

I handed my document over to the desk officer with a flourish and within seconds we were riding in the back of a panda car, lights flashing, sirens blaring, on our way to the East London lair of our fraudster. Actually that is a lie. He took a look at one side of the paper and handed it straight back to me.

Heroic Police Officer: “I need a statement”

Me: “What kind of statement?”

HPO: “A bank statement to show the money left your account”

Me: “This only happened three days ago and the account is now closed”

HPO: “But I need a statement”

Me: “I do not want to appear rude but may I inquire as to why?”

HPO: “Because you could just be coming in here and saying you had your credit card used. How are we to know?”

Me: “I could see that my reporting a crime might require you to perform some kind of investigation. Isn’t that usual?”

HPO: “Without a statement how are we to know?”

Me: “Wouldn’t the Credit Card Fraud Department phone number be some help? You could call them and they will confirm.”

He looked at me resentfully and clicked at his biro. He then stared at the phone number as if he thought it might ring. Then he looked at me again and said:

“We need a statement”.

So off I went crime unreported. Just between you and me I think now might be an opportune time to get into credit card fraud were you considering it as a career option.

21 thoughts on “Our Boys in Blue”

  1. The chap who made off with my dad’s credit card a few years ago got away with buying a yacht and a car, despite the fact that the card had been cancelled as soon as Dad realised his wallet was missing *coughs*leftinthe pubattheendofthenightthefool*coughs*

  2. I was less than thrilled last year when I found that some git (the ‘Hotel Frendy [sic] in Manila, if you must know) took £7.5 k out of my current account. No, of course I didn’t have £7.5k in it – hence the massive overdraft. I was even less thrilled to be arguing with some bloke in a call centre pointing out that no, I have never been to The Philippines and, my, wouldn’t it be clever of me to be taking £50 out of the SAME CASHPOINT IN VICTORIA I ALWAYS USED at the same time as vast wads of readies were being filched halfway round the world?
    Are you sure? he said.
    GNNNNHRRRGRRAAARGH …

  3. And if you actually used the credit card yourself to buy a computer and THEN reported it stolen would the statement show something differant than if someone stole it and did it? *rolls eyes*

  4. i was all on the edge of my seat with excitement thinking “wow, in the UK he’s actually getting to ride in the police car with lights flashing and go straight to the thief’s place”? Damn, I’m so gullible.

    Too bad that the police officer was such a meat-head.

    When my bike was stolen I filed a police report online because the City website suggested a quicker response. Unfortunately the suggestion was false and 3 1/2 weeks later when the police officer called to follow up I’d all but forgotten I once owned a bike.

  5. Oooo credit card fraud as a career? Do they have classes on that at the local tech. college? I think I’ll bag this teaching gig as it doesn’t pay too well and take up a new profession. But first you have to tell me how the laptop-er got your credit info in the first place. I’ll call it “research.”

  6. Minksy – Wheat Beer and sausage was indeed divine (as was cabbage and bacon and black pudding on mash with onion) however, it can be difficult to digest when, to the slack-jawed amazement of our welcoming German hosts, your compatriots are stood on their chairs clapping and bellowing out “There were 10 German Bombers …”

  7. Did you have some mash with your bangers?

    My cc was stolen from my box in Venice by a neighbor. No shit.

    They went about their usual business until they reached my credit limit. I called. The investigator had them on video tape at Target (buying nappies for their screaming kid), their license plate number (buying petrol), and a photo of their kid (buying a toy at Toys ‘R Us). The prosecutor refused to file. They credited my account but couldn’t wash the bad taste out of my mouth.

    I needed some mash. Spicy banger would do as well…..

  8. OGC – No I had more meat with my Bangers as is the German way. Any vegetable must be deep fried or pickled save for potatoes which must be mashed and served with Black pudding.

  9. I have no credit card story to report, but I did try to report a case of criminal damage on behalf of the charity I work for. The nasty chavs in the neighbourhood had scaled a fence and then proceeded to smash the windscreen of the charity’s ambulance with a brick one night. We were distraught, but I was informed by the WPC with the slightly straining waitband that “We don’t have much chance of catching anyone for that, I’m afraid.”
    Nice.
    I did however, receive a lovely letter from somebody at my local police station telling me how, as a victim of crime I might be in need of counselling. A very chatty letter with all the best of intentions, but missed the mark by o so much.

  10. Same thing (well, close) happened to me awhile back. Someone used my card to buy $750 of video games, putting me $400 overdrawn. Apparently, being $400 overdrawn is ok with my bank and noone questions a thing. *eye roll*

    Got my cash back but what a hassle.

    I feel you.

  11. I do need some easy money at present..can you just lend me your card and then you could report it Moobies and I’ll buy you something pretty? Or should I be finding Ms Floaty’s Dad?!

  12. Moobz, so sorry I disappointed you. It will not happen again!

    Your situation reminds of the stalking laws. Someone must come within inches of harming you before the police can intervene.

  13. Sounds like your boys in blue are about the same as ours here in the states. Useless for the most part.

    No credit card experiences here, but once a bullet came through my mom’s front window and the police were insistent that it was a marble. Until we found the bullet and had to call them back. It was fun saying “I told you so”.

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