Old-school tenacity

Digital analysis and search apps are invaluable. But nuanced interviewing, with an eye to discerning audiences, can yield solid evidence.

As a former special agent with the U.S. Secret Service, I saw my fair share of fraud cases, especially while working on the Washington, D.C., Metro Area Fraud Task Force in the early 2000s. In those days, the threat of identity theft was beginning to rise, and we were in the post-9/11 era of looking for suspicious transactions that could lead to cracking down on terrorist financing.

While many of the cases I worked were interesting and resulted in federal charges and convictions in identity theft; mail, wire and bank fraud — and other financial crimes — one of my most memorable cases I worked came about in the years after I left the Secret Service.

Guise of the minivan mom fraud examiner

At the time, I was married to another agent and living in Albany, Georgia. We had two young daughters, and I stayed at home with my girls. However, like many former agents, I itched to get back into investigations, so I applied for a part-time paralegal position at a local law firm.

My girls would go to pre-school a few hours each day. So, one morning after I dropped them off, I walked into the law firm where I’d sent a resume. Because of my experience, they said they really wanted to hire me as their in-house investigator instead. I now gladly earned my private investigator license, created my own LLC and bought liability insurance. I spent the next few months working wrongful death, insurance fraud and other types of cases under the guise of the minivan mom.

This memorable case stands out because I solved it based on the simple investigative techniques of solid, nuanced interviewing and talking to as many people as I could. In our world of digital analysis, social media, internet search engines and everything having an app, we often tend to overlook the old-school methods of detection. Armed with only a name and a former place of employment, I now had to find a woman who hadn’t been seen or heard from in years. And I had to do it in the antediluvian, pre-smartphone era.

The case involved a well-known and wealthy local car dealership owner in a small town in southern Georgia and lots of gossip among the locals. For us to win this case of fraudulent business dealings and unethical practices, the attorneys I worked for needed to find this key witness so she could testify against the car dealership owner. The car dealer was so popular, our attorneys were finding it difficult to seat a jury because many townsfolk didn’t want to have anything to do with the case.

This elusive witness, we’ll call her Gianna, who’d worked as a financial assistant in this local car dealership, had seen the fraud. If I had a similar case now in my current role as an anti-money laundering/fraud supervisor at a large national bank, I’d log into one of the various sophisticated search systems on my laptop to begin looking for Gianna. But even with all of these high-tech helps, I still couldn’t have located her because I didn’t have her cell phone number, public or private utility records and even a forwarding address for a final paycheck.

So, I began by thinking that Gianna, like many of us, was a creature of habit and might look for a similar job as the one she had at the car dealership. I called the dealership — the defendant in this case — introduced myself to the receptionist as someone looking for Gianna and asked if she knew where she lived. I made sure not to give too many details so the receptionist wouldn’t think I was deceptive. I was prepared to end the call if she began asking me too many questions that would put my ability to further find Gianna in jeopardy.

Even in current Google days, people that don’t want to be found can stay off the grid by not having their names on property records, utilities, etc. She had her boyfriend’s name on these types of documents, and they moved frequently. I was fairly certain that Gianna wanted to keep what she knew to herself. The car-dealer receptionist didn’t ask me who I was, who I worked for or how I knew Gianna. She gave me the name of someone who used to know Gianna at the car dealership.

After numerous calls, I narrowed her possible location to another part of Georgia. I then called every car dealership in that region and surrounding areas to see if anyone knew her. I finally found a person who’d recently worked with Gianna at a different car dealership who gave me the name of a city where she possibly lived.

I was excited to be following a trail to this woman based on talking to as many people as possible. We know that if we just let people talk — especially about themselves — they’ll divulge more information than you ask for. As I learned in studying for the CFE Exam, an interview is structured, not free form. Although telephone interviewees probably thought these conversations were free form, I was asking each of them questions from a prepared list.

Mystery woman in the white house

I eventually narrowed down the possibilities to a small Georgia town I had never heard of a few hours away. One Saturday, I jumped in my minivan and headed out. I had no address and no idea how to locate her once I got there. I walked into the local convenience store in the heart of town and saw locals talking and joking with each. I walked up to the most-talkative person and asked him if he knew Gianna. He looked right at me and said, “Well, yes. She lives right over there in the white house.” He pointed across the street.

I nervously walked over to the white house and asked a man out front mowing the lawn if knew Gianna. The reaction on his face and body language communicated that he did, but he told me she’d want to know who was asking and she really wouldn’t want to talk to me. I left him my card and asked him, as a last-ditch effort, to please let her know that it was imperative I talk to Gianna to help get answers for justice to be served.

As I turned to walk back to my car, I heard a door open behind me, and out came a small, fragile woman. It was Gianna. I put her at ease by maintaining a relaxed manner. I explained I was an independent investigator working for a law firm that was representing a client who was due to have a court case begin the following week involving her former employer.

Driving Gianna to court

I could immediately tell Gianna disdained her former employer and really wanted to help. But she was scared about retaliation and that the public would possibly see her as opposing this well-known business. I knew I needed to approach her interview — probably my only chance — with a persuasive, yet therapeutic, tone.

I wanted her to be able to explain what she’d witnessed without feeling like she’d anything to lose. It worked in my favor that she was on her turf and not in a closed-off, confining room. She slowly opened up and told me more and more. I assured her that on the day she needed to testify I’d pick her up (also to make sure she showed up because I didn’t have a subpoena) and bring her to the courthouse.

In the following weeks, I maintained contact with her, helped prep her and drove her to the courthouse for the trial. In the end, her testimony sealed the fate for the defendant. The law firm I worked for won the case.

As we were all leaving the courthouse that day, my boss looked at me and asked me if I somehow “put up a satellite to locate her.” I said, with a laugh, “No, just good old-school detective work and a little bit of luck.”

Adept interviewing techniques for solid discovery

I now take full advantage of complex digital search methods; they’re excellent, fruitful ways to begin. But this case taught me that old-school tenacity can still discover valuable evidence. Adept interviewing techniques — aided by savvy, nuanced knowledge of interviewees — can yield solid results for your clients and organizations. I always remember that small cases can yield important victories and lessons.

Megan Tiller, CFE, is an anti-money laundering/fraud supervisor at a large national bank. Contact her at Megtiller12@gmail.com.