Scary Monsters

I’m going to tell you right now, reader, that this story does not end with me wiring the down payment on my new house to a Russian gangster in Miami.

But it was close.

I should start by saying that this is far from my first home purchase – between my partner and I we have done this a half-dozen times in a couple of different states; we are hardly real estate moguls but also not doe-eyed first time buyers. This particular deal had gone much more smoothly than others in the past (particularly our last house, the purchase of which was basically a long series of hurdles and red flags), and I was marveling at how much easier things were going this time around. So when I had a series of frustrating e-mails with my attorney the day before the closing (which had, for Complicated Logistical Reasons  been rescheduled and relocated at more or less the last minute for one day earlier than we were due to file the deed), I was annoyed at the interruption of what had been a more or less completely smooth process. The bottom line was that I was going to need to wire the down payment to the attorney’s office prior to the closing, so the funds would be immediately available, and in order to accomplish that I would need to initiate the wire transfer after work the day before.

It is mid-afternoon and I am busy at work, fielding a volley of e-mails in between seeing patients, growing increasingly irritated at the poor communication between various parties. I had made a few amendments to the closing statement a few days previously but had not received the final copy, despite assurances that it had been sent to me via secured e-mail. I finally get an email from the attorney, with my name and the address of the property in the subject line, and a breezy message about how he was looking forward to meeting me at his office the next day,  – “Don’t forget to bring a photo ID and your checkbook!” – and an attached set of wiring instructions on office letterhead, which include a bank in Miami, with a vague sounding business name (“Somethingorother Holdings, inc.”) on the account. I think, huh, that’s weird that they’re using an out of state bank, but they must be using a third party escrow agent.  An hour later, I get an email from one of the paralegals in the office that is basically identical, but with completely different wiring instructions. I reply to both emails to question the discrepancy; The attorney responds with, “oh, sorry, yes, our wiring instructions have recently been updated,” and the paralegal replies, “oh, if Mike gave you different instructions, then use those.”

I reply again, “Just confirming that I am sending the wire to This Bank In Miami; I’m leaving work now.” It is after business hours at this point and I am not really expecting a reply, but I’m annoyed enough at the inconsistency that I want to push back.

So I’m in the car on the way to the bank, and my phone starts blowing up with emails and texts from the paralegal: STOP. CALL ME ASAP.

She says: PLEASE TELL ME YOU HAVE NOT SENT THE WIRE YET. WE DON’T HAVE AN ACCOUNT AT THAT BANK. THIS IS AN ATTEMPT AT WIRE FRAUD.

I get off the phone with the paralegal and promptly throw up in the parking lot of the bank.

I’m then overcome by a completely alien sensation, of being uncertain how to evaluate what is real and true, and what is not. After all,  one the thought of fraud has been introduced, it occurs to me that I’ve never met the paralegal either — who was to say SHE isn’t the scammer?

I call my broker, who knows the attorney personally, and ask her to call him and verify the story, the wire instructions, and to vouch that he is who he says he is. I beg for (and am denied) the option to bring a check (or a suitcase of cash?) to the closing.  I pointedly do NOT call Boyfriend, who has a lot of anxiety about these things and is only going to muddy the panicked waters. I do what every strong independent women in her 40s would do, at this point: I call my dad, who if nothing else is the single most sane, reality-based person I know.

“You know the bank is a real bank, correct? And the broker is a real person that you know personally, and who has a license number you can verify? And the attorney is a real attorney with an office and you can confirm his admission to the bar in this state?”

Yes, all those things are true. I think. I proceed with the wire, then hold my breath for the next 24 hours. It all works out, and when I drunkenly tell boyfriend about it the next day, we are able to laugh over the whole thing. But DAMN, that was close.

It turns out this is an increasingly common scam. The perpetrators monitor emails coming and going from real estate firms, looking for impending transactions requiring wire transfers, then spoof the office e-mail and send alternate wiring instructions, in hopes that you are anxious and tired enough to just go along with it. There is no FDIC insurance against wire fraud (after all, you initiate and approve the transfer); you would never see that cash again. I like to think that, when at the bank and asked to commit to which instructions to use, I would have seriously questioned the discrepancy between a bank in Miami and a local bank with an account in the law firm’s name, but I’ll never really know. When I examined the email threads later from my actual computer, I can see that the pathways are really different — the law firm’s come through an encryption service, and the fraudulent one is just an e-mail with an attachment, but on a smartphone they looked identical. There was no discernible difference in the body of the real vs. fraudulent emails, or in the addresses.

So the lesson here is: do not accept wire instructions by e-mail, especially last minute ones. If you know you are going to have to do a wire, ask to have the instructions overnighted to you or pick them up in person at the law office. SERIOUSLY question any last minute changes or updated instructions.

Anywho.

We closed the deal, and have been spending the last month in the completely unglamorous process of extracting ourselves from our apartment and our various storage units.  I will update soon with more fun things on that topic, and a preview of some of the project lists we’re making. But first I need to unpack a few boxes.