As soon as I took up residence in a house situated in south London the previous year, post started to flow in. The letters, having arrived in professional envelopes that had mini see-through windows and addresses pre-printed, seemed to be from the bank.
Two individuals, both strangers to me and my landlady, were on the receiving end of these letters. The landlady was the prior residence for seven years before she let the house to me. Her lineage had been the homeowners for multiple years.
The addressees’ names appeared quite questionable as if they were merely inventions. Without risking any legal implications, I decided not to share these names. In case these names originate from real people – albeit with unusual names – a clear absence of their identities on social media, electoral rolls, or the telephone directory contradicts that possibility. Moreover, according to the historical landlords of the property, these people have never been residents.
The perceived hilarity of these names, with their rhyming tones, further raised suspicion. Visualise those moments in The Simpsons when Bart would dial up prank calls, requesting fictitious customers at Moe’s Tavern.
The show had Bart amusing himself at Moe’s expense through name gags such as “Hugh Jass”. Despite realising it was a prank, Moe would naively relay these false call-outs to his bar customers, causing widespread laughter. Other famous instances were “Mike Rotch”, “Ivana Tinkle” and “Anita Bath”. These arrived in my London house in a vaguely similar manner as seeming bank letters. Not as dramatically amusing maybe but just as dubious. Let’s label these strange correspondences under their alleged first names, Andrus and Andris.
The landlady identified the incoming post for Andrus and Andris as previously noticeable: “They’ve got to have fabricated these names. Each one of them is calling for overdue payments. Just discard them.”
In my recent discovery, I uncovered that NatWest bank was in pursuit of a certain Andris over an unpaid loan amounting £15,155, granted back in 2019 and yet untouched in terms of repayment. Simultaneously, it appeared that HSBC was having a similar predicament with Andrius, owed a total of £26,500 in loans and an overdraft upwards of £500. It soon became apparent, as bank correspondences grew increasingly tense, that Andris and Andrius – whether one individual hiding under dual aliases, or two distinct persons – seemingly had fooled both banks, accumulating a debt close to £42,000 under false identities. Whoever they truly were, they managed to reveal the growing issue of fraud in the UK.
Fraud in England and Wales is becoming a serious concern, with figures from the UK parliament’s home affairs committee highlighting that it forms almost 40% of total reported crimes. Instances reached as high as 3.7 million in 2022, making it the most commonly reported crime category.
The previous week saw police chiefs, including representatives from the City of London police who are the national front-runners in fraud cases in the UK, and the National Crime Agency called upon to address this mounting concern over an apparent lack of urgency by law enforcement.
The committee disclosed that a meagre 1% of police resources are allocated to fraud cases, despite it being the crime of choice for two in every five criminals. Consequentially, the fraud conviction rate is also a mere 1%. Considering that there are just 1,500 specialist fraud officers serving Britain’s 68 million population, the numbers are hardly surprising.
The lack of clarity over responsibility for investigating fraud among the various agencies led to a heated complaint from committee members, including Conservative Brexit supporter and ex-city fund manager, Tim Loughton. He even questioned why the lead on fraud was given to the City of London police who hadn’t appeared to show any interest in his defrauded elderly constituent’s minor loss.
Loughton admitted that he had been the victim of credit card fraud a few times, with the scammers consistently making purchases of teen dresses. Reflecting this, the committee determined to increase efforts to tackle Britain’s seemingly failing anti-fraud operations.
In other news, the flurry of bank correspondences addressed to Andrius and Andris at my address has been dwindling of late. Such letters from credit organisations occasionally pop up, but what solid evidence do they truly have?
Recently, one bank attempted an unusual strategy. They mailed Andrius a cheque for a minor sum, claiming it as a refund due to a ‘procedural review.’ Obviously, if Andris had accepted the cheque and deposited it, this would provide the bank with a reliable method for locating him.
Considering his illicit accumulated £15,000 and slim possibility of capture, what led them to believe he would fall for such a transparent ploy?