Saturday

"Hi, I'm Doctor Marino," he said.


Jordon Gann, the recently-arrested half of the grifter twins, had one thing down: he understood his marks, their greed, their naïve hopes… and easily exploited that desperation. Lamely dubbed the “Romeo Robber” by unimaginative Florida reporters, Gann mostly zeroed in on single women who – we’re only guessing here – don’t often end up with the prize catch.

It would go something like this. He strikes up talk at the bar. Within the conversation, he mentions that he’s brilliant. He started college at 15 – yes, Harvard – and has patented a way to slow the spread of cancer. He is well-spoken. When he talks about being a pediatric oncologist, it certainly sounds like he is. (Going out on a limb, Tampa Police Detective Curtis Smith believes that Gann may have found some of this impressive medical terminology online.) He’s in town for a meeting. That wonder-drug he developed – the cancer-slowing one – made his company, which he recently sold, worth $2 billion. So he now has a ton of money. Proof? No problem. He pulls a piece of paper out of his pocket. See, it’s a document about the sale of the company. Here’s another. It’s his bank statement. $74 million, right there. (Investigators claim the doctored-documents were made by copying logos off financial websites and copying them into Microsoft Word.)

In any case, you’re satisfied. He's looking at you. He’s smiling. He might like you. And, well, he did have a photocopied bank statement in his pocket. That’s normal, right? Okay, fine, so maybe he did forget his wallet. That happens, too. You can pick up the drinks. You’ll even pick up dinner, since you’re having a good time and no one’s in a rush. In fact, over the next four days, you and your friends spend over $1000, buying him food, clothing, CDs, and a phone. Nothing weird about that. He’s an oncologist for chrissake.

A friendship is quickly formed. You have sex with him, and he suggests you two open a joint banking account. You’ve never done that before. But, okay, sure. After all, he did say he’d put $100,000 into it, money that you’re free to use to pay off your debts. Only thing is, he needs $750 from you, cash, to open the account.

And once he gets that money, he’s gone. Please don't act surprised.

Tomorrow: Two men. One surname. Many aliases.

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