The Art of the Con (7 page)

Most books relate their selection of scams with a little commentary or theory thrown in. Such cautionary tales hope to protect the reader by revealing these tricks and supposedly teaching how to avoid falling victim in the future. The problem is that this simply doesn't work. One of the key reasons that people enjoy reading stories about con artists is that they feel detached from the action. They see the hustler as a clever fox and the victims as gullible chickens waiting to be plucked. The details of each story are often embellished, re-ordered, or simply invented to be more entertaining—it's designed so that the readers enjoy the ride without actually remembering where they've been.

When I first started speaking to businesses, educators, and law enforcement about con games, my approach was much the same as the contents of my library. I selected scams from a smorgasbord of criminal history, reconstructed them in my own words, and learned how best to tell them in an effort to entertain and inform my audience. The chances were excellent that if any con man happened to pick someone from that audience and attempt one of those scams, he'd come up empty because the mark would recognize what he was up to.

The problem with this approach is that con games evolve with the times. Once a particular scam becomes well known, con artists can either move to the next town and ply their trade anew or begin a completely different con game, as yet unknown to the public. Most scams can be dressed up in a variety of disguises and re-invented thousands of times to produce the same result: “Get the Fucking Money,” or GTFM. As I will illustrate later in this book, some con games can even be repeated on the same victim! Reading about con games in a book is clearly not the same as being the target of one. It's the difference between watching a racing car from the bleachers and being locked in its trunk.

It seemed to me that a fresh approach for a book on con games would be to use these scams as examples to illustrate the
underlying principles
that make con games effective. Together, we're going to ask why they work and learn how to identify a scam before it's too late. Along the way I will share my own experiences as a con artist, examine the many types of con game, and discuss exactly how I got each mark to “pop.”

After working on
The Real Hustle
for a couple of years, I began to analyze my notes from each of the scams we had pulled. The concept of breaking the con down into “hook, line, and sinker” came to me when I first used it in a talk for a credit card company in Miami. It was a simple way to illustrate how I felt con games worked; a convenient illustration of the core principles that I was starting to recognize.

At that time, I felt that there was much more to find and that the list would expand as my understanding and experience deepened. To that end, I began to add to the list, but as we continued to film these scams, I grew to understand that almost everything important could be categorized by those first three phases. Eventually, I added the “cool-out” (also known as the “blow-off”) to the sequence, and, from this point I began to see how these applied to each and every scam that I'd pulled.

Some con games are all about the hook, others are about keeping the mark on the line, and some are nothing but a fast sting, sinking the victim immediately. The cool-out, while not always possible, is often inherent to the type of scam but usually needs to be either baked into the con or carefully applied after the sting.

It is how each of these phases is played that determines the success of the con artist, and I hope to illustrate exactly how a hustler plays this game and responds to the challenges or concerns of a potential victim.

To illustrate these hook, line, and sinker elements, I will walk you through the con game I designed for The History Channel TV show
Scammed
. It's an excellent example because the principles used can be identified in almost any type of con game. Along the way we'll pull several scams together, trying to anticipate every outcome to better understand what a con game feels like from my side of the table.

Uncle Barry

He was not an easy mark. Charming, intelligent, and witty, Uncle Barry was nobody's fool. His nephew, Randy, had secretly set him up for
Scammed
, a two-hour special for The History Channel. My mission was to expose the world's most famous scam by targeting an American businessman. To do this I had to re-invent the game, tailor it to my mark, and pull it off in just forty-eight hours. I had worked out the sting and the best way to reel him in, but setting the bait was going to be risky, as it always is. During pre-production, I was hoping for someone who would bite quickly—but Barry was way too smart for that.

The Nigerian Prince scam is, by now, very well known to anyone with an e-mail account. The idea is simple: A foreign national wants you to hold onto a large amount of money in return for an irresistible percentage of it “for your trouble.” The only catch is that, for a variety of reasons, the person receiving the money, the mark, must pay a few legal costs, transfer fees, or put up his own cash as a show of good faith. Whatever the details might be, it amounts to this: The mark must pay his own money under some pretext in the hope of receiving a much bigger sum in return.

It's not a new con game. Over two hundred years ago it was known as the “Spanish Prisoner,” where wealthy suckers were convinced they could pay a ransom or fund a voyage to receive the lion's share of a ship loaded with treasure. Boiled down to its base elements, it's the perfect example of a classic con game that might seem ludicrous from the outside, but from the perspective of an entangled victim, perfectly plausible.

My challenge was to re-invent this scam—which would be well known to Barry in its “African prince” disguise—and prove that it could still work if the details were changed. While I had constructed a powerful story and a dramatic sting to get the money, I had to be very careful about how I got our mark to play the game. Just saying, “Hey Barry, want to make a hundred grand?” wasn't going to cut it.

We met over breakfast in Charleston, South Carolina. I played the part of a businessman who brokered large money transfers from overseas. According to my story, I employed US citizens to accept funds into their own accounts, hold them for an agreed period, then, once the legal requirements were satisfied, transfer the money back to the owner's US bank, minus a very attractive percentage. Barry seemed to accept all of this at face value; he only asked a few simple questions as we chatted over coffee and orange juice. We agreed to meet later that day so I could talk to them about working together.

Once Randy and his uncle were gone, I looked to our secret camera position where my producers were watching and said, “We're in trouble.”

Reading a mark is an acquired skill. After hundreds of con games I have learned to recognize the hallmarks of a difficult customer. Over breakfast, Barry was calm and friendly but volunteered very little. He rarely leaned forward, which forced me to do too much of the talking.

The situation we had engineered for Barry was simple. He had come to Charleston to assess a potential business deal for his nephew, Randy. Randy was secretly setting up his uncle but would take no part in convincing him to hand over his cash. During the setup, I would need to switch the deal so that Barry would invest his own money. A great deal of work had gone into not tipping Barry off while making sure he could get the money at a day's notice. Everything hinged on how I set the bait, and if Barry didn't bite, we would have come a long way for nothing.

The trouble was that Barry's demeanor during our first encounter was friendly but guarded. He didn't volunteer anything I could use as leverage. He absorbed everything I offered by way of information, giving very little in return other than a few jokes and some charming repartee. The production crew agreed we were in trouble, but for a different reason. When I had left the table for a few moments during the meeting, the producers heard something that made it seem unlikely that our mark was going to bite.

With Uncle Barry, I had my work cut out for me. From the beginning, our objective had been to find a mark who would give me a real challenge. Easy meat can mean easy money, but in my experience, if it's all too convenient then the television audience would quickly dismiss it. If they regarded the victim as foolish or gullible, then they might think
that's
the reason why the con worked. In order to properly illustrate the power and potential of this scam, I needed a worthy adversary and I knew I had more than I bargained for when Barry sat down to breakfast.

While I was at the table, Barry chatted about the quality of the orange juice, the weather, and how much he loved living in the South but gave almost nothing away regarding my business proposal. As soon as he was alone with Randy, that changed. Once I was out of earshot, Barry turned to Randy and said, “This has got Mafia written all over it.”

The production team was convinced that this was the end of the road. They were already considering backup options (other potential marks we could bring in at a day's notice) but I was not worried by Barry's words: quite the opposite. My concern had been that Barry was simply not interested and would resist any attempts to pull him deeper into the scam; as soon as I learned what Barry had said to his nephew, I knew that the bait was set and our mark was definitely interested.

The team must have thought I was insane. Barry was as good as gone in their mind, but I had done this many times before; the fact that Barry sensed something “off” was not important. The crucial point was that despite suspecting something fishy, possibly illegal, he still agreed to meet later to find out more. This told me everything I needed to know about our mark: He was willing to roll the dice.

Despite his facade of indifference, I knew Barry was interested. This wasn't a sure thing but our mark was definitely nibbling the bait. We needed to play him carefully, build his confidence, quash his concerns, and satisfy his curiosity. Then we would reel him in.

The hook is the most important element of any con game. Without it, the con artist would have nobody to con because the hook is the means by which the victim becomes involved and starts down a road that will eventually take him over a cliff. The ability to rope someone into a scam is prized above all else. Being able to think and act under pressure, to talk your way out of any challenge, or look a pigeon in the eye as you calmly take his money are useful skills—but they're all ultimately worthless unless a mark is in play.

Professional con artists, from online bottom feeders to high-end fraudsters, are all looking for the perfect way to attract more victims. In some cases, the hook is the main problem to be overcome. In other scams, the hook is just the beginning, the first step on a winding path to an unsuspected destination, and once someone becomes involved it can already be too late.

The Bait

The most important element of the hook is the bait. For years, I've told my audiences that there's one all-encompassing truth that lies at the heart of all con games:
If I know what you want, I can take everything you have
.

What people want can be broken down into desires, aspirations, and essentials. These could be specific to one person or common to everyone, but once a mark's needs have been identified, the con artist has a reason to approach and leverage to use. The bait is often the most important distraction in a con game. Even the most suspicious potential victim must listen to the voices in his head that want, hope, and need an opportunity to be real. No matter how many questions need to be answered, the con artist knows that somewhere inside the mind of his target, there's an unwitting accomplice to the scam, nudging the mark ever closer to the prize.

A powerful element of the hook is the suggestion that there might be something illegal or illicit. This can be rendered down to an honest opportunity as the result of an unfortunate, unexpected, or unknown situation, but the very fact that this doesn't immediately scare off the mark can be powerful leverage later on. For many, the merest notion that something might be illegal is enough to make them walk away, but if the mark is still listening, then the hook is probably working.

There's no use offering the latest and greatest laptop technology to someone who doesn't own a cell phone or trying to sell land to someone who can't afford a mortgage. The bait must be a juicy carrot, big enough to distract from the harsh reality of the stick. That carrot can be something of value to the general public or tailored specifically to one unlucky victim. Advertising cheap electronics will attract suitable victims, as will a fake casting call or a bogus modeling agency. The scammer introduces the bait knowing that the victim is already interested or can guess what the target wants or needs.

The nature of the con dictates how best to rope a mark. Some people need to be encouraged at the beginning but become motivated as soon as they are introduced to the bait; others need to be almost forced into the game. Many scams simply depend on the bait to attract suitable victims, but in many cases, the way that the mark is introduced to an idea dictates their perception for the rest of the con. Therefore, the approach is crucial to a successful swindle. There are three types of hooks used in most con games: the Big Hook, the Soft Hook, and the Straight Hook.

The Big Hook

By far the easiest way to identify a mark is to set up a trap and see who falls in. Simply making something available and spreading the word is enough to attract anyone who's interested. Marrying the bait to the perfect mark becomes a numbers game that depends entirely on what the con artist is pretending to offer, sometimes attracting people without ever having to engage them directly. The success of this kind of hook is often determined by location and timing.