WHEN John met Judith,
it seemed they were a perfect match. Both were devout Christians. He was a
widower, she a divorcee. After finding each other on an online dating site,
they exchanged heartfelt e-mails. John, an interior designer from London,
wanted to meet in person but had travelled to South Africa for his father’s
funeral. While there, he was robbed and defaulted on an expensive design
contract. Judith stumped up £140,000 ($175,000) before realising that she had
been scammed: “John” was the invention of a fraudster.
Last year
online-dating swindles cost Britons a record £39m, according to the City of
London Police. Six out of ten victims are women and two-thirds are between the
ages of 40 and 69. Few of the fraudsters are identified, let alone caught, but
most seem to be part of organised gangs in west Africa or eastern Europe,
according to Neil Masters of Victim Support, a charity.
Operations resembling
call-centres conduct detailed background research, compose scripts and work
several targets at a time. A fake emergency, often en route to an in-person
rendezvous, is the most common way to solicit money. On average, just 30 days
elapse between initial contact and first payment. Among those victims who go to
the police, the average loss is £10,000.
Fearing damage to
their business, dating sites are doing more to protect their members. Some analise
their messages for suspiciously early declarations of love, or check if profile
pictures have been swiped from other sites.
But nothing is as effective as what Mr Masters
calls the “golden rule”: never give money to an online paramour, however
charming.
