The Perfect Scam

The U.S. Navy Veterans Association claimed to be a charity headquartered in Washington, D.C. Founded by Bobby Thompson, known to top politicians as a retired lieutenant commander in the U.S. Navy Reserve, the charity’s stated purpose was to support veterans and their families. Using telemarketing firms, the association secured contributions from donors big and small, collecting from everyday people who wanted to honor the service of men and woman in the U.S. military by giving back to veterans in need. While that was a noble cause, nothing about the U.S. Navy Veterans Association was what it seemed. Buoyed by the eccentric Bobby Thompson, the association thrived on more than $20 million in revenue. Thompson’s status as a well-respected fundraiser allowed him to circulate among Washington’s elite, pose for pictures with presidents and donate large sums to political campaigns under the guise of championing veterans. But when Jeff Testerman, an investigative journalist from Florida, tracked Thompson down to ask a simple question about one of his political donations, Thompson was evasive and combative. Testerman knew there was a secret hiding behind Thompson’s behavior and dug in. Little did Testerman know how deep the lies and secrets of the charity and Thompson went. The U.S. Navy Veterans Association wasn’t sending money to veterans; it was an elaborate scam. And Jeff Testerman discovered that its founder was not a retired naval officer — nor was his name Bobby Thompson.

Darren Berg’s crimes are catching up to him. Through his company the Meridian Group, Berg has been operating Washington state’s largest Ponzi scheme, defrauding investors of more than $100 million. The FBI, the U.S. attorney’s office and the IRS are all on the case, combing through Meridian’s financial records. People like best-selling author J.A. Jance, who invested a half-million dollars with Berg on the recommendation of her financial adviser, are realizing they may never see their retirement savings again. Other investors who have already retired are grappling with the fact that they may lose their homes as a result of Berg’s crimes. Darren Berg is charged with nine counts of wire fraud and one count of money laundering. Considered a flight risk, he’s remanded to custody. Berg claims to be cooperating with authorities, but they aren’t sure he’s being truthful. They think he might be hiding funds and planning an escape, and what happens next proves their suspicions.

It’s 2009 and Bernie Madoff has pleaded guilty to stock and securities fraud in New York. Covered heavily by the media, Madoff’s Ponzi scheme is front of mind for many Americans. It also has a group of investors on the West Coast concerned. They’ve placed their hard-earned savings with the Meridian Group, a company operating out of downtown Seattle. Its founder, Darren Berg, a well-known and respected businessman, reassures his investors that their retirement savings are safe. His firm has passed several audits, and Berg promises that there is no “magic” behind the company’s robust rate of returns. Besides Meridian, Berg runs a successful charter bus company with high-profile clients like Nike, the NFL and Google. In Washington state people trust Berg, and his charismatic personality has helped him assuage investors for years. But in 2010, the house of cards Berg had built begins to fall. One of Meridian’s largest investors wants to cash out, and Berg is unable to pay. Complaints roll in to the U.S. attorney for the Western District of Washington and the FBI. The authorities take a deeper look into the Meridian Group and confirm investors’ worst fears: They are part of the largest Ponzi scheme the state has ever seen. Darren Berg’s lavish lifestyle of yachts, mansions and private planes has been fraudulently funded by his investors. With the authorities working to shut the scheme down, the end of the Meridian Group is imminent, but Berg has one more trick up his sleeve.

The FBI is on to Farid Fata, an oncology doctor in Michigan who has been administering unnecessary cancer treatments in order to steal $34 million from Medicare. George, the practice’s office manager, has gathered enough evidence to bring the case to the authorities. It lands of the desk of Agent Drake during his first week with the FBI’s health care fraud team. Investigators are disgusted by what they find and work to bring Fata to justice.

When Dr. Maunglay moves to Michigan, he’s excited to join Dr. Fata’s practice. But Fata’s controlling and odd ways make him question his decision to take the job. When Maunglay looks into a patient’s records, he’s shocked at what he finds: Fata is giving chemotherapy and other treatments to patients who don’t need it, some of whom don’t have cancer at all. His motive? Stealing money from Medicare.

A bustling oncology practice in Michigan is hiding something sinister. Patients come to Farid Fata at their most vulnerable, after they’ve been diagnosed with cancer or to receive the life-altering diagnosis. But when Angela, an oncology nurse, arrives at one of Fata’s well-regarded clinics for an interview, she finds that nothing is as it seems. Horrified by what she sees, she reports the doctor for committing an unthinkable form of Medicare fraud. 

Single mother Sara is growing suspicious of the man she met online. He claims to be an Army major stationed in South Africa, but Sara’s family worries she’s being scammed. Meanwhile, another woman approaches law enforcement to report that she’s been swindled out of thousands of dollars by the same man in a romance scam. 

Sara thought she knew everything about the Army major and single father she met online. After months talking she found herself falling for him. But what Sara didn’t know was that the man she’d fallen in love with was actually the ringleader of a romance scam that bilked nearly $2 million from its victims.

On this special episode of The Perfect Scam, Frank breaks down all the ways fraudsters try to scam you through voicemail and email by claiming to be everything from IRS agents to bank officials. Frank gives the skinny on each scam, who’s behind them, and what you should and shouldn’t do if you get a scam message. Plus, the show producers share their own voicemails from scammers.

Bryon, a retired pastor, thought he’d met his dream girl online. For five years he conversed over the internet with Joy, who claimed to live in London. So when Joy asked Bryon to transport real estate papers, he had no idea he was being used in an elaborate plot to smuggle drugs. Bryon is one of hundreds of Americans over the age of 60 who were conned into unwittingly serving as drug mules in what the U.S. Senate Special Committee on Aging calls one of the worst scams it has uncovered.