Misdirection 2

EPISODE 2

It was about half-past five (5:30PM) when she appeared in my doorway.  She was tall, dressed to the nines, and had a look that could drop packets.

She entered the room quickly -- as though she didn't want anyone to see her.

"Hello?" she said.


"Good evening, ma'am.  What can I do for you?" I asked.


"I need some help." she began, "I need someone who knows computers."


"I know a little something" I said


"..but they must be able to keep things private." she warned.

"I'm as private as 10.0.0.1, lady." I assured her. "What can I help you with?"

"I made a number of purchases online.  Afterwards someone stole a large sum of money from my account."

"I'm sorry to hear about that ma'am.  Do you mind if I ask you a couple of questions?"


"I suppose not.  That is why I'm here."


"Okay.  Where did you go online?"


"Well, I went to the Bottega Ricco website."


"What?"  I interrupted.  "That high-end joint downtown?  Wow, you really do have some expensive taste, lady."


She shot him an icy look,  "Uh, right.  Sorry.  Bottega Ricco.  Go on."


"... and I watched a couple of movies on Netflix.  That's about it.  Oh, wait.  I also purchased some cosmetics."


"What did you purchase , ma'am?  And what was the name of the website?"


"I purchased some hand-made, organic, lipstick from a site a friend recommended -- LavishCosmetics.com."

"I see.  One last thing, what is your name ma'am?"


"Sheraton." she replied, "Vienna Sheraton."


"Alight, Ms. Sheraton.  My name is Joe Failsafe.  I'll take your case and let you know what I find out.


"Thank you, Mr. Failsafe."

The following afternoon I checked the websites that Ms. Sheraton provided.  First I called Bottega Ricco, a high-class clothing joint downtown.  I spoke with a Mr. Delicato who show me how they handle data and credit card information and assured me that they followed industry best practices.

The most likely source for trouble had to be that cosmetics website that Sheraton went to.  Upon inspecting the site, I began to suspect that that was where the crime occurred.

I'd seen this kind of thing before, and I knew just who to call.

Misdirection

EPISODE 1

The night was cold and dank.  One of those nights where the mist from the man-hole covers creates a fog that rolls down the street and smells like unseated memory chips.  Nothing was moving, and nobody was around.  The intersection was completely vacant.  During the day this place is busy with bustling vehicle and pedestrian traffic, but at night it is strikingly empty.

Only the solitaire, cool, beeping of an ATM could be heard, as its user finished his transaction.  It was late, or early depending on how you look at it.  He still had five more credit cards to cash-out before midnight.  See, midnight was special.  That is the time when the bank reset it's withdraw limits.  If he makes his withdraws before and after midnight he can steal twice as much dough.

"I can't believe how easy this is." he thought, stuffing the cash from the last transaction into his coat pocket.

He smirked and then fumbled through the remaining stack of cards he had programmed that night.  People don't realize that the information stored on a credit card is not encrypted.  So, all someone needs is a magnetic card writer, a list of card numbers, and a bit of free time.

He took the next card and nudged it into the ATM.

"8-6-6-3" he pressed on the keyboard.  

The number made him smile.  That was the same number he had used all night.

"Kevin Mitnick's birthday," he snickered.

"bleeep."

"Insufficient funds?"  He thought.  

But, he had been making withdraws of $100 dollars all night?

"Check Available Balance" he pushed into the keyboard.  

"Bleep-bleep-bleep." the machine groaned.

"You have $47.09 funds available."  

"Huh?  Must have burned that one up." he concluded.