Animal force to T-bills: The ingenious new cons of Kerala and TN

Cheating is nothing new to the criminal lore; but how far can it go? Can one still pull off the ultimate con-job of selling the Taj Mahal? Or to be relevant to the south, the shore-temple of Mahabalipuram?

Going by the emerging trend in Tamil Nadu and Kerala, the day is not far off. The recent spate of con-jobs in these two otherwise progressive states seem to indicate a bolder and brasher band of cheats and a sizable number of people who are willing to buy any story, however, far-fetched it is.

If the old conmen ran regular Ponzi-schemes that promised to multiply money, indulged in fake land-deals and took bribes for non-existing jobs, the new breed are dealing with schemes that are more daring and bigger in scale.

Perhaps because of the dwindling catchment of the gullible, who by now are aware of the routine ways of cheating, the new conmen are betting on authenticity, possibly with the support of insiders of government institutions. As the threshold of public gullibility gets higher, the cheats seem to be raising the bar when it comes to authenticity in the schemes.

Take a look at this case in Tamil Nadu.

An elegant old gentleman and a band of uniformed officers were recruiting inspectors, sub-inspectors and jawans for an “animal special force” of the government of India. Letters and orders were issued on authentic-looking stationery with seals of the government of India and about 100 recruits were trained on a police ground in Perambalur. The uniforms of the recruiting officers had stars and the works of authority. The old man was presented as a retired judge.

While a group discussion for the candidates was in progress, the police raided the premises and busted the racket. About 1000 hopefuls, with many paying Rs six lakhs as fees, had been cheated by then.

The photos released to them media were hilarious - a set of men in immaculate khaki uniforms and the “retired judge”. The most astonishing fact was that they had been able to run the training programmes on police grounds. The cheats reportedly had submitted a request for permission to use the ground on what looked like official stationery, which carried fake seals of government of India. Even the most suspicious candidate could have fallen for this detail. Police suspects insider support for the brazen way with which they operated.

A similar stamp of authenticity was the hallmark of another racket that recruited people for Railway jobs a few months ago. The racketeers issued call letters and appointment orders on near-original stationery and the “selected candidates” were lodged at railway quarters. Reportedly, those selected were even examined by “railway doctors” and sent to railway stations, ostensibly on training.

The cheating ring, allegedly masterminded by an MBA graduate from Bihar, conned people from a few states including Tamil Nadu and Kerala. As Times of India reported, the CBI, which investigated the case has found that the conmen had a “steady supply of letter heads with watermarks, seals, signatures and other railways paraphernalia.”

Roughly at the same time, the entire nation was startled when US treasury bonds worth Rs. 25,000 crore were recovered from an innocuous agricultural commodity trader near Tirupur. The trader, who hadn’t filed his income tax returns for the last four years, said the money was hard-earned and was legal. He also said that he procured them from Brazil in exchange for gold bonds of same denomination. A few days later, it turned out that the bills were fake.

What was the trader going to do with the fake bills? Apparently, he was planning to set up a refinery in Ramanathapuram and was aiming to encash the bills for the project. Translated to real terms, he had probably created a plan with financial instruments that were as big and authentic-looking as they get. Even the income tax authorities initially didn’t know if the bills were fake or real. The trader couldn’t have been in possession of the fake bills without a plan in mind.

Meanwhile, in Thiruvananthapuram, Kerala, a man claiming to hail from the royal family, wanted to sell gems and diamonds worth Rs 300 crores. The stones were fake and the royal lineage was his trick to claim authenticity.

But, how would he explain the origin of the stones to prospective sellers? According to him, they were from the royal family, which wanted to sell them on the side.

Interestingly, he found his nemesis in another group, which bought his story and came up a plan to exploit it. They thought that the stones were real and that he was a real royal. They plotted an elaborate scheme to decamp with the man’s precious stones without paying a penny. But, they botched up and killed the man who pretended to be a member of the royal family.

Not too far away, in Ooty, four men tried to sell four kilos of gold, which was in fact copper but gold plated, and got caught.

Despite such elaborate schemes Tamil Nadu and Kerala do not top the national charts when it comes to cheating. In fact, they have a great record compared to other states, including their southern counterparts such as Karnataka and Andhra Pradesh.

However, what is striking is the credulity with which people fall for the cheats. For instance, in the Railway job racket, reportedly the candidates were advised on paper try not to contact the Railway Recruitment Board and nobody suspected anything amiss; similarly, while paying up for jobs on the “animal special force”, none of the victims cared to do a simple Google search for the establishment.

If you get cheated, the chances for recovery is low because the average conviction rate in such cases in the country is less than 30 per cent although more than 65 per cent of the culprits have charge sheets filed against them.

Therefore, the moral of the story is this: the only way to escape the diabolical designs of the crooks is not to allow desperation get the better of you and to stay ahead of them.