And why Americans keep falling for it...
by Hal Karp

In June 2002, Don Holton, a musician in Boise, Idaho, received what he quickly decided was his big break.  It came in the form of an unsolicited e-mail from a stranger named Richard Williams.

"It might be a surprise to you where I got your contact address," Holton's mysterious correspondent began.  "I got your e-mail address from the Internet, please don't be worried."  What followed were four badly written paragraphs that held the promise of easy money.  Williams explained he was "the elder son of Mr. Parker Williams of Zimbabwe," and during that country's "current crisis" supporters of the president had "invaded my father's farm burnt down everything, killed him and confiscated all his investments."  After that, Williams wrote, "my mother and I with my younger brother decided to move out of Zimbabwe for the safety of our lives."  They fled to South Africa, taking "the money my father kept in the safe in my mother's house which amounted to the sum of US$12.7 Million United States Dollars."  The cash was "in the secret vaults of a private security firm."

Now, Williams wrote, "myself and my mother have decided to contact any reliable overseas firm/person who could assist us to transfer this money out of The Republic of South Africa."  The reason?  "We as asylum seeker here in South Africa cannot open a non-resident account through which this fund will be channeled out to your nominated overseas account."  If Holton would help, he'd get $2.53 million.

The message closed this way:  "This transaction is 100% risk free."

Hooking the Hungry Fish

Don Holton didn't know it -- or, more likely, he refused to recognize it -- but he was about to fall prey to one of the boldest and most pervasive scams on the planet -- the so-called Nigerian Letter Fraud, also known as a "419 Fraud" (for the section of the Nigerian penal code that covers such scams).

If the e-mail he received sounds at all familiar, you or someone you know is likely among the legion of Americans to get such a proposition via e-mail or fax over the past two decades.  Amazingly, after so many years, the Nigerian letters just keep coming.  Even more amazingly, people still bite.

Common sense prompts most recipients to simply trash these come-ons.  But for every thousand messages Nigerian tricksters send, authorities say, an average of one to three people respond, driven by greed, desperation or naiveté.  The result is a scam that ranks among Nigeria's top industries and that, according to conservative estimates, continues to siphon well over $100 million a year out of the United States.  "If you throw you hook into water filled with fish, and there are hungry fish out there," says Paul Johnson, assistant special agent in charge of the Criminal Investigative Division at Secret Service Headquarters in Washington, D.C., "eventually, you're going to hook something."

The American Friend

As Holton reread the e-mail, his mind raced.  After years of bad luck, he thought, good fortune had finally smiled on him.  Within days, he was on the phone with Williams, recounting stories about his boyhood in rural Idaho.  He was taken aback when Williams began to cry.  "It was really moving," Holton says.

Soon, a plan was hatched.  Holton would fly to Johannesburg.  He,  Williams and Williams lawyer would visit the security firm, and Holton would pay $4,500 in "back rent" to release the $12.7 million.  (The total due was $7,500, but Williams's lawyer had agreed to pay the remaining $3,000.)  Next, Holton would open a new account in a South African bank, into which Williams's cash would be deposited.  The money would then be moved into another account, this one in the United States.  From there, Williams and Holton would split it up.

Borrowing the money he needed from wary friends -- all of whom demanded hefty interest -- and his less-skeptical girlfriend, Holton bought a $1,900 round-trip ticket to Johannesburg, and flew there on July 13.  That day, Williams and a man he identified as his attorney, Charles Ngobe, picked him up at his hotel.  Holton was impressed:  "Ngobe was impeccably dressed in a business suit, and they were driving a Mercedes."

Birth of a Con

It hardly matters that Holton was hustled in South Africa or the William's tale originated in Zimbabwe.  According to authorities, the con men who duped him were almost surly Nigerians.  "It's frequently Nigerians operating in other countries," say Agent Johnson of the Secret Service.  The FBI concurs:  Nigerian criminal enterprises top its list of all African-based fraud, operating out of 80 countries across the globe.

The con goes back to at least the mid-1980's, when the U.S. Postal Service began seeing a surge in letters from Nigeria.  The ploy was always the same:  We want to hand you millions of dollars for just helping us -- at no cost to you.  Once the hook was set, then came the add-ons:  fees, bribes and worse.

The first wave of letters coincided with the collapse of Nigeria's oil industry, which left many of the country's highly educated, English-speaking work force suddenly unemployed.  Throw in longstanding government corruption, and a new criminal element was born.  Nigerian crooks, Agent Johnson says, are "a very creative lot.  They've homed in on a topic, studied it well and gotten to be very good."

They are also technologically savvy.  Almost as soon as fax machines became ubiquitous in this country, they began spitting out Nigerian letters.  Even now, some offices receive several a day.  And now the con men have added e-mail to their arsenal.

Baiting the Hook

When Holton, Williams and Ngobe arrived at the "security firm" -- a non-descript house in a run-down neighborhood -- Holton felt a flash of unease.  This was the place that was holding William's millions?  Then again, he says, the house looked to be the only one in the neighborhood with uniformed armed guards posted outside.  A few minutes later, after he'd entered the building, his doubts vanished.

A well-dressed man identified as the security firm's director opened a safe-deposit box, then "pulled back enough plastic sheeting to reveal eight large stacks of hundred-dollar bills," Holton says.  "It looked real, maybe $10,000 per stack."  He could only guess because he wasn't allowed to even touch the cash until he'd paid the necessary fees.  By now, $800 more had been added to the total -- to ensure the money's safe passage to the bank.  Holton said he'd have to send for it.

In the Spider's Web

"The Internet has changed everything," says Agent Johnson.  "Before, these guys had to write the letters, make the phone calls, send the faxes, the whole deal."  Now, a con artist can hang out in an Internet café in Lagos and send out thousands of offers with a few simple keystrokes.  (According to one anti-spam software maker, the Nigerian letter is the Web's second-most common form of junk e-mail, topped only by bogus ads for medical products like "herbal Viagra.")

The con men identify potential targets via software programs called harvesting spiders that scour the Internet like mini-robots, gathering anything and everything that remotely resembles an
e-mail address.  If yours has ever been posted on the Web, they'll find it, says Parry Aftab, executive director of WiredSafety.org, the world's largest Internet safety group.

Says Aftab: "Posting on a newsgroup, leaving a message in an online guest book or allowing your company to place your e-mail address on its website -- all these leave you vulnerable."

Cleaned Out

On July 15, Holton, his pockets stuffed with cash, and the two other men returned to the house.  This time, Holton insisted on counting the lockbox's contents.  The security director consented -- once Holton had handed over the agreed-to $5,300.  And he had another demand:  $2,500 to bribe a government official who'd suddenly appeared.  It was only at this point that Holton decided something wasn't right.  Faking an asthma attack, he ran from the house and made his way back to the hotel.  The next day, 14 men, one brandishing a badge and a gun, burst into his room and threatened to arrest him.  The charge: participating in an Internet scam.  Hustled into a car bound for the police station, Holton offered the men $5,400 -- everything he'd planned to swap for Williams's riches and more.  The men took the cash, drove him to the airport and dumped him there.  They told him to leave the country immediately -- or else.  That's just what he did.

Breaking the Con

For the first time, the Nigerian government has begun to go after 419 perpetrators -- for good reason.  "419 Fraud has ruined the reputation of Nigeria," says Alhaji Nihu Ribadu, chairman of the country's two-year-old Economic and Financial Crimes Commission.  "No one wants to come here and do business.  How can we survive?"

To date, the Nigerians have jailed more than 300 fraudsters perpetrating 419-type scams, including several politicians.  More than $300 million in cash and property has been seized.

As for the victims, most concede that, looking back, they had doubts long before throwing in the towel.  Others have trouble facing the truth.

"It's hard to admit that you've been suckered," say FBI Special Agent James Hoppe of the bureau's Detroit office.  "People often hold out hope and continue to throw money away instead of admitting they've been foolish enough to be had."

Put Don Holton into that category:  "I have this fantasy of going back and getting that money somehow.  Maybe pulling off something like on that old TV show 'Mission Impossible.' "

He couldn't have picked a more appropriate title.

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TSUNAMI TWIST
By Ed Shanahan

As soon as the Asian tsunami hit on December 26, many Americans began looking for ways to help.  Con artists began looking for ways to cash in.  Law enforcement agencies were soon warning the charity-minded about e-mail spam -- some of it resembling the Nigerian hustle -- that was meant to scam them.  Here are tips for not getting taken:

Don't answer unsolicited e-mail.

Be skeptical of "disaster victims" or "government officials" who want money sent to overseas accounts.

Go directly to websites of known charities and aid groups.  Don't follow links from other sites.

Verify legitimacy of nonprofits via independent sources before giving.