Con artists count on personnel being too harried — or greedy — to notice their devious intent.
Several years ago I got a letter from a Nigerian “prince” inviting our company to participate in an exciting business proposition. He and his cohorts had millions of dollars they wanted to deposit in the United States, but because of legal technicalities weren’t able to do so. Desperate for a partner, they would gladly cut our company in on a sizable fraction of their loot, if only we would give them access to our bank account so they could deposit the money.
As scams go, this one was laughably crude. The letter was in broken English, riddled with typos and printed on cheap paper lacking even a printed letterhead. I also happened to be familiar enough with geopolitics to know that Nigeria doesn’t have a royal family. I turned the letter over to my state’s attorney, urging him to go after his royal highness.