Don't worry, the bank told me when it froze my debit card after a thief managed to drain a couple thousand dollars from my account.
Here's a consumer tip: When your bank says don't worry, you should begin worrying. What I'm about to tell you is a cautionary tale, so pay close attention, and with any luck, you won't get ripped off like I did.
My bank's friendly customer service rep explained by phone that the stolen funds would be restored to my account while the bank conducted an investigation.
Sounded great, and indeed, the funds were restored. But how had the money been withdrawn from four different ATMs, at $500 a crack, if I still had my debit card?
Someone might have managed to steal my PIN number and create a bogus card, the bank explained.
As I would later learn from the U.S. Secret Service, local police and the Identity Theft Resource Center, the business of ATM fraud is booming. Crooks are using video cellphones, surveillance cameras and old-fashioned shoulder surfing to eavesdrop on you while you punch in your PIN. On top of that, there's an occasional inside job in which a crooked bank employee swipes the information.
My thief was a busy little derelict. In four days ending Nov. 3, he managed to hit the jackpot at ATMs in Van Nuys, North Hollywood, Sun Valley and Lancaster.
As instructed, I filled out the necessary forms and even called my bank to say I had a hunch where the original theft might have occurred. I'd had a suspicious encounter at a gas station, where a clerk watched me try to use a pump that had rejected my card. Within a few days, my account was tapped.
Four weeks after filling out forms, my bank sent me a letter.
"After conducting a thorough investigation ... it has been determined that ... the transaction activity in question was authorized and posted correctly to your account. Therefore, the temporary credit for $2,020.50 that was previously applied to your account will be reversed on December 16, 2005, thus closing this dispute."
First I had steam coming out of my ears. After a few minutes, my head caught fire.
And that was before I read the following line:
The bank "appreciates your business and values you as a customer."
The reason I'm not divulging my bank's name -- as much as I would love to -- is that it wouldn't be right for me to use the influence of the newspaper to get my money back. The average Joe can't do that. And besides, I want to see if in the end, my bank (a large national operation that will no longer have my business when this is over) does the right thing for the right reasons.
The day I got the letter, I called the bank's debit-card operations office and screamed at someone, telling him they might as well have sent me a letter calling me a liar and a thief.
What exactly did their "thorough investigation" consist of? I asked.
The lackey on the other end of the line claimed bank investigators had called me, and I hadn't returned their messages.
Are you kidding? I asked.
Do you really think that with $2,000 on the line I'd ignore inquiries into the theft?
Nobody called me, I told him. You'd think they'd at least have been interested in the gas station I told them about, since it's possible that lots of people are getting swindled there. And you'd think they would have checked the videotape at the ATMs where this punk drained my account.
Sorry, the knucklehead told me, but because of privacy considerations, they can't always get access to those tapes.
I calmly advised this lad to get up from his desk, head for the door and go get himself a good stiff drink. Then go back to the office and quit, I told him. You can't keep working for these people and ever hope to feel good about yourself.
To his credit, he told me he didn't disagree with a word I had said.
My wife, who was getting worried about the direction of the conversation, asked to speak to the guy.
I handed her the phone, and the guy told her I had every right to be angry. He also suggested I go to the Los Angeles Police Department to file a theft report and send it along. Maybe that would help.
I went to the Northeast LAPD station on San Fernando Road, where the desk cop was helpful and more than sympathetic, telling me he'd been a victim of identity theft himself.
Ditch the debit card, the cop advised, and use a credit card. If you get ripped off, the law makes it the credit card company's loss, not yours. He said he'd seen lots of victims, too, and accused derelict bankers of leaving basic investigative work to customers and police.
When I called Det. Bob Berardi of the Los Angeles County Sheriff's Department's identity theft task force, he told me that he'd been victimized twice, including once while he was in Las Vegas giving a speech on identity theft.
Nice to know I've got so much company.
When I called, Berardi was writing a report that said the Sheriff's Department had 6,198 identity theft reports in 2005. Get a shredder, he advised, and destroy all documents before dumping them into your trash.
