GAIL DRAKE: Your ‘prince’ could cost you

“For they seek not peace; but they devise deceitful matters.”

— Psalm 35:20

A lot of folks are lookin’ for love. But not necessarily in the right places. Lonely and longing for companionship, three out of 10 U.S. adults have used a dating site, according to a recent Pew Research Center study, including senior citizens. While there may be some successful online Hallmark stories, cyberspace is, unfortunately, filled with scammers looking for lonely hearts — and wallets — to fleece.

The con typically begins with Tessa Trueheart posting a dating profile. Then poof! — up pops a profile and picture of a possible match. Dashing Donovan! He’s so good looking, successful, intelligent and funny! And loves kids and pets! But he lives on another part of the globe, abroad in the military or on business. The first conversations are delightful. He’s so attentive and really seems to care. He asks lots of questions about your family, background, your concerns. He’s eager to know you better. But he quickly suggests moving your relationship to a private channel, like WhatsApp or Hangouts (that are untraceable).

Over the weeks and months you grow closer and make plans to meet in person. But something always comes up for poor Donovan. Then an urgent message. There’s a critical medical problem and he needs funds for emergency surgery. He’ll pay it back, he says, so please wire funds to this bank account in Miami. Then another meeting is planned. But his private plane ran out of fuel in Delaware. Please send boxes of cash to my lawyer in New York City.

One of the more creative and prominent romance scams is a network of swindlers posing as the Crown Prince of Dubai, Sheikh Hamdan bin Mohammed bin Rashid Al Maktoum. Aimee Walters, an ex-Dubai resident who lives in Glasgow, Scotland, was one of hundreds of women who were romanced by the studly sheikh. He loved her, he declared (online), and all he wanted was to escape the burden of his princely duties. But when they made plans to meet, he needed her to send money via Western Union for a “royal identification card” to his agent. He couldn’t accept money directly — his prominent position, you know.

After she lost $5,000, she realized she had been targeted for a romance scam. She recorded a phone call to Prince Hamdan, asking him why he spoke with a Nigerian accent, and turned her evidence over to law enforcement.

Aimee was lucky. A woman in Austria lost $400,000 on a similar Dubai scam. And the Crown Prince of Dubai has even made the romance rounds in Albany.

Several years ago a colleague requested I serve as emergency conservator (court-appointed guardian of property) for a frail 70-something woman. “Annie” had given thousands of dollars to the unfailingly romantic prince from Dubai. The details have been changed to protect the innocent, but suffice it to say I spent several days recovering her house from foreclosure, her pawned car from repossession, and contacting her 24 creditors including multiple credit cards she had maxed out. She had mailed boxes of cash and i-Tunes cards to multiple addresses in Florida.

“But he’s the only man who loves me! My Hamdan.”

“Have you ever seen him in person?”

“No but I have pictures.”

I gazed at the photoshopped pic of the bare-chested 30-something prince, signed “All my love, Fazza.”

“And he knows my heart! We are intimate on the phone and …”

“Stop. I don’t even …”

“But he says we are married. See, here’s our marriage license.”

“Annie, did you ever sign anything to get married? Did you exchange vows together? And look at this marriage license. In the United Arab Emirates they speak Arabic — and this certificate is in English. I’m sorry but it’s a fraud.”

Undeterred, Annie kept trying to sneak cash to her true love. Eventually we plugged the financial holes and safely placed her and the depleted remains of her assets in the hands of family members.

The Federal Trade Commission reported that in 2020, losses from romance scams topped $300 million. And the villains get by with it because most victims are too embarrassed, or too duped, to report it. In a conversation with the fraud department of USAA Insurance Company, I was informed that the $200,000 my client lost was not sufficient a sum for the FBI to investigate.

Let us be mindful that many of our seniors are lonely and long for companionship. Let’s keep in touch with them, make them a part of our lives, and watch for signs that they may be targeted for scams. Don’t let your loved ones suffer loss.