Guest voice: Jack Clark

     Regular EGD readers are familiar with Jack Clark, the former Chicago cabbie turned mystery writer who checks in occasionally, most recently in 2023. Today he comments on a pervasive problem in our social media age: fraud.

     I opened my first bank account in 1957 with my First Communion money and closed it ten years later when I was 17. The bank officer was amused. He told me that, according to current rules, I was too young to open an account on my own.
     I’ve had plenty of banks and bank accounts since then, and I could bore you silly with some of my bank stories. But I’m going to skip that. Something exciting has finally happened. After 60-some years of banking, I’ve been the victim of check fraud. Twice, with a single transaction.
     It all started when I got a direct mail solicitation from Block Club Chicago. Now, I’m a nice enough guy, but I never donate to anyone but panhandlers. I’m the classic struggling writer (except about 50 years too old). People should be sending me money. But Block Club is really pretty cool and Jenny Sabella who is one of the founders and the executive editor is even cooler.
     We first met when she got hired as a waitress/bartender at the Grafton Pub in Lincoln Square. This was just around the corner from my apartment. I liked to stop in on the way home. “Hey Jack, you should meet Jenny,” the bartender said one night. “She’s a writer too.”
     “Oh cool,” I said. “What do you write about?”
     “Sex,” she said, and we’ve been friends ever since.
     For obvious reasons, I don’t get many solicitations. But when I do it’s usually for the Lyric Opera or the Art Institute, places like that. Somehow I’ve gotten myself on some arty mailing list. So I was impressed that Block Club had dropped a few dollars and given the list a try. Should I actually send them some money?
     Jenny, who knew a thing or two about being a struggling writer (and did it at the appropriate age and then moved on), had promised me that I’d never have to pay for Block Club. Maybe now was the time to pony up.
      And there was a bonus. If I donated $60 or more they’d send me six Chicago postcards. That may not be exciting to you but I’m a newlywed and my bride is a postcard freak. There’s no other way to put it. She likes to send them but, even more than that, she likes to buy them. I’d say for every postcard she sends, she buys 10 or 20. I’ve spent hours waiting outside cute little shops while she’s inside spinning the postcard racks.
     Well, this would impress the lovely Helene, I decided. I filled out the form and included a check for $100 and dropped the envelope in the mailbox before I could have second thoughts. The extra $40 was so Jenny wouldn’t think I was a cheapsteak. [I know. I think it’s funnier this way.]
     And then I waited for the postcards to arrive. Nothing. I checked my bank account. The check had not cleared. What was taking so long? It finally cleared nearly a month after I’d sent it. I was about to write Jenny: You’ve got to get those checks in the bank before people change their minds!
     The wonders of online banking. You don’t have to wait for your cancelled checks to arrive a month later. You can view them online. Before writing Jenny, I thought I’d take a look. The front of the check looked fine. It was to the order of Block Club and my signature was artistically scrawled along the bottom. On the back of the check the fraud finally arrived (I know you’ve been waiting). The check was not endorsed by Block Club; it was endorsed with my name, which makes no sense. Now if you were going to forge the name of the person who wrote the check wouldn’t you try to imitate his handwriting. Not this guy. You can actually read every letter of my name. What kind of signature is that? He’d obviously never been to art school. The check was deposited into an account at a credit union in Virginia.
     I wrote Jenny and sent her copies of the check. She wrote back: “This is SO weird. That was definitely not cashed by us.”
      Next I called my bank, Wintrust, who I’ve had very good luck with in the past. I figured the call would take about five minutes. Instead it took a half hour or more. Most of that time I was on hold. I talked to three different bankers. They all agreed that the check had almost certainly been stolen. They kept failing as they tried to connect me to the manager at my local branch. “Why do we have to talk to him?” I finally asked.
      “You’re going to have to close your account and open a new one.” (Note: all dialogue is reconstructed from memory.)
      “Why?”
      “Well, your account has been compromised. They have your account number and the routing number. They could. . .”
      “That’s ridiculous. You can find the routing number of any bank in about eight seconds.” Banks want you to send them money. “And both numbers are on the checks. Anybody I send a check to sees them.” And the world is full of scoundrels who often disguise themselves by working for legitimate businesses, even banks now and then.
      “I’m sorry, sir,” she said in a tone that let me know the discussion was over.
      I asked to speak to a supervisor and soon a manager was on the line. We went through the same song and dance. She said that the bank would recommend that I get a new account.
      “So I don’t have to?”
     “No. But you know we have recorded this entire conversation. So if you have another problem later on, you might not recover your money.”
     “Are you threatening me?” Is what I wish I’d said.
      When the call finally ended, I called right back. I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I just wanted to make sure I got the wording of their message exactly. “Please note: Your call may be recorded for quality and training purposes.” Not one word about legal purposes or retribution for not following bank recommendations.
      So that’s the second clear case of fraud. Consider yourself forewarned: You may be sitting in a courtroom some day or at a deposition, and somebody on the other side will play that recording supposedly made for quality and training purposes.

      Should we tell the person who picks up that recorded call, “I agree to have this conversation recorded for quality and training purposes only. Nothing beyond that?”

      One final question: Should I follow the bank’s advice and close my account and open another? Let me know what you think. I’m honestly confused.