Norman Vincent Hardeman, James Untermeyer and Teresa Newman were part of two loose-knit groups in the inner city of Dallas. All the members of the groups, with one exception, had attended Skyline High School in Dallas and had grown up with each other. Most, including Hardeman and Unter-meyer, were convicted felons with criminal records that involved violence. Newman was one of the few otherwise innocent accomplices who were duped or forced into abetting a criminal scheme.

In addition to being a seasoned con, Hardeman was also a locally well-known transvestite who had made a name for himself on the Dallas drag-queen circuit. He was a convicted felon and a habitual offender with a drug problem. James Untermeyer was also a convicted felon, and he and Teresa Newman, his girlfriend, shared Hardeman's weakness for drugs such as heroin, crack cocaine, and methamphetamines. Hardeman and Untermeyer headed up separate identity theft rings, but they frequently employed the same individuals and undertook the same types of schemes. Most of the money they made went to support their extensive drug habits. They were relatively uneducated but wise in the way of the streets, with a native intelligence and drive that would have served them well in legitimate occupations.

Identity thieves do not discriminate when choosing their victims. As my investigation revealed, seemingly disparate individuals and organizations can become unknowing members of a fellowship created by unscrupulous criminals. National celebrities, airport car-rental companies, and banks found themselves among credit card issuers, online merchants and ordinary citizens who were victimized by this identity theft ring. Even police chiefs were not safe.

I was working as a postal inspector in the Dallas/Fort Worth area and was visiting the local police station one afternoon. We had just wrapped up a joint identity theft investigation and were rehashing the details when a police lieutenant walked in and complained to us that his chief's identity had been used to obtain several fraudulent credit cards. The chief didn't know who had gained access to his personal information or how; he had not experienced mail theft or other losses attributable to burglary or theft. But it was obvious to everyone in the room that the perpetrator had not chosen his victim wisely. The investigation was underway quickly, and we soon identified additional victims, including some celebrities.

The investigation was conducted by the Southwest Financial Crimes Task Force, led by Postal Inspector Keith Tyner and involved the U.S. Postal Inspection Service; the Secret Service; the FBI; the Federal Deposit Insurance Corporation's Office of Inspector General; and detectives from the Dallas, Fort Worth, Irving, and Plano, Texas, police departments.

Following the initial report from the police lieutenant, our first step in the investigation was to contact the issuing credit card companies, which included large, well-known department stores. We solicited information about any other, similar fraudulent applications the stores may have received, and discovered 23 new victims from this request alone. We began looking for common denominators linking the initial 24 victims. Though some had suffered car burglaries, home burglaries, mail theft and purse snatchings, the only apparent similar element we found was that the handwriting on most of their fraudulent applications bore striking similarities, indicating that the same writer had probably completed the suspect applications.

Another common denominator surfaced when we interviewed the victims. All had, at least once, made installment credit purchases directly or indirectly connected to a national finance company. When investigators receive such information about a financial institution, we aggressively pursue the possibility that a company employee leaked the identities of customers. We found that the finance company had suffered three burglaries at their Dallas offices. The burglaries were unusual in that the burglars did not take items of obvious cash value, such as easily fenced computers and other office equipment. Instead, the burglars took the "smart" inquiry terminals furnished by a major credit bureau. The credit bureau informed us that each terminal carried in its internal memory 300 individual credit records, including names, dates of birth, Social Security numbers, addresses and, sometimes, employment information.

The credit bureau's investigators assured us that such data was properly encrypted and required secure password access. Those investigators, however, had never dealt with former inmates of the Texas prison system, many of whom were given computer training as part of a rehabilitative effort. For example, at one point, Texas prison inmates were doing data entry on real estate property transfers under a private contract and had access to deed and property transfer files, including mortgage applications. When this program became public knowledge, it was promptly terminated.

Although we could never directly prove that our targets stole or accessed the smart credit bureau terminals, the data recovered from the fraudulent applications we were accumulating matched that in the terminals' memories. Previous investigations of similar schemes conducted in the Dallas area identified dishonest employees at car dealerships who were providing the same type of personal identifying and financial information to their cohorts. The crooked workers would assist in the preparation of the sales paperwork, including retrieval of credit reports. We believe the actors we eventually identified in our case were schooled in how to access credit information by the dishonest dealership employees, who, when caught, were dismissed or given minimal sentences if they were prosecuted.

We developed our suspects by reviewing automated credit card loss reports and comparing them with local police complaints on suspects who had committed credit card abuse or uttered counterfeit checks. This tedious but necessary step in the investigation was made easier by crime analysts from several of the Task Force agencies who prepared spreadsheets to illustrate the patterns for us. We compared the suspects' physical descriptions with bank and store surveillance videos, some of which were sharp and clear; others were almost useless. The problem was that we were dealing with a highly transient population of "tweakers" or drug abusers. It was not unusual for them to often change locations, with long-term motels being the most frequent residential choice. It was also not unusual for a drug abuser's appearance to change significantly over time.

We discovered a low-tech side of the crimes as well. Early in the scheme, the perpetrators accessed public records, including voter registrations. At the time, anyone could say they were representing a political group verifying voter lists and gain access to voter registration cards, which listed personal identifying information. We believe this was how our police chief's identity was stolen.

While more sophisticated perpetrators used fraudulent credit cards to get cash advances from automated teller machines (ATMs), our criminals weren't that savvy. What stood out in our spreadsheets was the use of the cards to order from online merchants expensive electronic goods, auto parts, cosmetics and clothing, all of which could be readily converted into cash for drugs. One major online computer dealer cooperated fully, supplying us with complete records from the initial order to the ultimate delivery of the equipment to the customer. Another online computer dealer, although it suffered significant losses from the fraudulent credit card orders, refused to cooperate without grand jury subpoenas — citing its status as a financial organization — even though the customers were fictitious and the company ultimately suffered the losses. Naturally, we concentrated our efforts on the more cooperative company. We had enough on our plate already.

Our spreadsheets revealed still another common denominator — one address on Waycrest Avenue in Dallas's Oak Cliff neighborhood was used for multiple deliveries of fraudulently ordered merchandise. We identified the resident as Teresa Newman. I prepared a test mailing containing a "preapproved" credit card application in the name of our police chief, with a return address of a Post Office box we controlled. The test letter was delivered to the Waycrest address and, in almost no time, the completed application was returned to our PO box. The application bore the same handwriting as the fraudulent applications we had previously discovered.

Intercepting a shipment of a fraudulently ordered DVD player going to the Waycrest address, I assumed the role of a uniformed U.S. Postal Service letter carrier and signed out a truck from the nearest post office to attempt a controlled delivery. Hidden in the back of the truck were two Dallas police detectives, a Secret Service agent, and another postal inspector. The accommodations for my passengers in the cargo area were a bit snug, and I inadvertently gave them a jolt when I clipped an overhanging tree limb with the truck's tall roof. My riders actually thought we struck another vehicle and vowed never to ride with me again.

At the Waycrest address, I delivered the parcel to Teresa Newman. She signed as the wife of the police chief, using his name, finishing the signature with a distinctive flourish we had seen on the fraudulent applications. After she signed, I signaled my passengers, who confronted Teresa. When interviewed, she denied all knowledge of the scheme, even when presented with evidence of prior deliveries to the Waycrest address. A written, sworn, statement of her denial was taken by the Secret Service agent and the postal inspector. It was a win/win situation because, in the face of the other evidence, the denial was a reflection on her credibility and an indication of guilt; Newman could be charged with lying to federal agents under the False Statements section of the U.S. Code.

A photograph, fingerprints and handwriting samples were then taken from Newman. But she made no attempt to disguise her handwriting, finishing many of her words with that same distinctive flourish. Handwriting samples were taken in all the known victims' names. Newman stated that she was just receiving the packages for a friend in the neighborhood whom she knew only as James, and who lived around the corner from her on Arborcrest Avenue. Newman surrendered two other pieces of mail she had received in the police chief's name.

Our local and regional forensic labs could not handle my expedited request for handwriting examination, so I had to send the request to our national lab in Dulles, Virginia. They, too, were under a heavy caseload and farmed the request out to another regional lab. Although the known handwriting of Teresa Newman appeared to be a layover for much of the writing on the suspect applications, the documents examiner issued a somewhat disappointing qualified opinion, stating only that he believed Newman was the probable author of the suspect writing. Even though a probable opinion from a lab expert carries more weight than a lay opinion, the qualified opinion can be explained fully only by the examining expert on the witness stand. This restriction on the qualified opinion coupled with the fact we had not yet identified Newman's coconspirators made the Assistant U.S. Attorney we contacted uncomfortable charging Teresa Newman with conspiracy, mail fraud and credit card abuse. Instead, Newman was arrested by the Dallas police and charged with forgery and credit card abuse. As we expected — since Newman had no prior criminal record — she agreed to cooperate and provided the names and addresses of the people who had involved her in the scheme, including her boyfriend, James Untermeyer. The four people's names she provided, including Untermeyer, were all recently released convicted felons. None of the addresses she provided, however, checked out.

A Plano police detective on the task force queried the Texas State Pardon and Parole Board and found good addresses, which were one or two numbers different from the ones Newman provided. Untermeyer, who lived on Arborcrest, proved to be a key player in the ring. We obtained state arrest warrants and executed them over the next several weeks. In a consent search incidental to Untermeyer's arrest, an address book was found and photocopied, a standard practice in all such investigations. Two of the four suspects were females who had previously been arrested by Dallas Police for using fraudulent credit cards at the Dallas Galleria shopping center.

Thirteen credit cards illegally obtained online using stolen identities had been delivered to the Waycrest address. Seven cards had been mailed to the Arborcrest address, and one to Rupert Street in Dallas. Eleven cards were sent to an apartment building with common mailboxes on Highway 135 North in Kilgore, in east Texas. Three of the same victims' names appeared on the cards sent to the Waycrest and Kilgore addresses. The fraudulent credit cards were obtained online from major department stores, gas stations and banks.

We arrested the four individuals identified by Newman as having participated in the scheme. Two of the suspects denied any knowledge of the fraud; the third blamed Newman, but the fourth, James Untermeyer — seeking a deal — told us everything. Untermeyer went through his address book and identified Norman Vincent Hardeman on Twyman Avenue in Dallas as being involved in a similar scheme.

Address books were recovered from the other suspects and copied as well. They can lead to the identification of new suspects and further intelligence. It is also not unusual to find suspects in possession of notebooks and other records with victims' identifying information and credit account numbers and balances. This is done so that the bogus cards and accounts are not overused, exposing the crooks to greater danger of being caught. Often the information and account numbers are used as street currency to buy drugs.

The Task Force investigation was now starting to focus on Norman Vincent Hardeman; however, because we had no reported fraudulent credit card activity connected to his address — and because surveillance is labor intensive — the investigation fell into inactive status as other cases took priority. The intelligence on Hardeman, who had an extensive criminal record, was filed away for future reference. He was off the radar screen for now, but not forgotten.

A few months later, the Junkyard Dogs, also known as the Dallas Police Auto Theft Unit, called me about an investigation they were conducting into the rental of luxury cars at DFW airport using fraudulent credit cards. One of the names used was a victim from the Waycrest Avenue scheme. Perpetrators were fraudulently renting luxury cars and selling them on the streets of Dallas for about $2,000 each — not a bad price for an almost-new Lincoln Town Car, which was the preferred make and model in the scheme. The Task Force was back in business.

Surveillance videos and still photos obtained from the rental car agencies revealed well-dressed female suspects renting the vehicles. When we interviewed one of the rental clerks, she described one of the suspects as the "ugliest woman I've ever seen," and mentioned the gaudy costume jewelry she was wearing. This presented problems: Female suspects are less likely to have felony records and can often alter their appearance (such as by wearing wigs) easier than males. Nevertheless, the still photos were circulated with local police departments and at interagency intelligence meetings.

A Dallas County deputy constable working hot checks saw one of the photos at a forgery investigators' meeting and identified the suspect as Norman Vincent Hardeman, a transvestite he had previously arrested for uttering forged and insufficient funds checks. Hardeman's address was verified through the Pardon and Parole Board as the same Twyman Street address we had on file. The Junkyard Dogs set up surveillance on Hardeman's house. Their persistence and patience paid off when they spotted two new Lincoln Town Cars at the location. The plates came up as recently stolen from a DFW Airport car-rental agency. The clerk who described the "ugly woman" handled one of the rentals. A Dallas detective put Hardeman's mug shot in a photo spread and he and a postal inspector showed it to the clerk. The clerk declared that the photo of Hardeman "had to be the ugly woman's twin brother, no doubt about it." Because the witness was so positive, and because Hardeman's only known relative was an older brother living in Galveston, Texas, the Junkyard Dogs got a search warrant for the Twyman Street address.

Early the next morning, assisted by the Dallas Police SWAT team, the Junkyard Dogs and I executed the search warrant on Hardeman's residence on Twyman Street, where he was living with two other men and a woman. Computer equipment and other evidence were seized, including printouts from an online public database that included the names, home addresses, drivers' license numbers, dates of birth and other personal information of 294 people. Among the victims were a national civil rights leader, a former astronaut, current NBA and WNBA basketball stars, a former major league baseball star and two rising female pop music stars. The discovery was shocking, but quick work by the Dallas Police and Secret Service revealed that none of the celebrities had suffered any financial loss due to the compromise of their personal information.

Lesser-known victims were not so lucky. Hardeman and his associates selected victims with affluent-appearing addresses in the Dallas and Houston areas, and credit cards, drivers' licenses and blank checks were found in those victims' names. We figured Hardeman and his associates researched the celebrities just to see if they could do it, and then wisely declined to use those names further due to the heat it would bring.

We also recovered more than 230 pages of Internet searches of public databases; nine computer criminal histories; and the names, inmate numbers and institutional addresses of inmates in the Texas prison system. Much of the information was contained on the hard drive of Hardeman's computer. Many of the searches were requested using the name Kasper, an alias we knew Hardeman used. The hard drive also contained images of stolen and altered drivers' licenses and we found a counterfeit credit card among Har-deman's possessions.

Norman and his roommates' closets were full of women's clothing, including evening gowns, feather boas and stiletto high heels. Norman and his friends had won beauty pageants for drag queens and had the trophies and photo albums to prove it. We even found the clothing used at the car rental agency. Hardeman and his roommates had dressed as women on their criminal forays to confuse eyewitnesses.

Under Hardeman's mattress I found an Intratec semiautomatic pistol with a magazine loaded with 9mm ammunition. We also found matchbooks and flyers from topless clubs in Dallas and Arlington — the same clubs that Untermeyer was known to frequent. We discovered that Hardeman owned a bar in Dallas, which was unusual for a convicted felon. We dutifully provided this information to the Texas Alcoholic Beverage Commission and also passed along the information about Hardeman's recovered gun to the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms. In addition to the loss of approximately $300,000 suffered by the car rental companies, we discovered that other stolen checks had been used, resulting in losses to those individual victims and their banks.

Untermeyer, Newman and their associates were charged with the state offenses of theft, credit card abuse, forgery and engaging in organized criminal activity, which is Texas's conspiracy statute. Because of Untermeyer's criminal record, which included violent crimes, he received considerable prison time — more than he would have gotten if prosecuted federally. His confederates received lesser prison sentences. Teresa Newman received 10 years' community probation as a first-time felony offender.

Hardeman and two of his associates faced similar state charges and received significant prison time. Because he had a prior record as a habitual offender, Hardeman received 99 years. The state sentences handed down were considerably longer than if the fraudsters had been prosecuted in federal court. I testified at a parole hearing for Hardeman several years later. He had been diagnosed with a terminal illness and had applied for parole so he could live with his brother in Galveston until his death. It was granted. A year later, curious as to whether Hardeman was still alive, I ran a criminal history on him and found he had been arrested on a local forgery charge and died in the county jail.

Restitution was ordered in all the cases; however, the ill-gotten gains of both rings were used to buy dope, and there was no property worth recovering.

Peter J. Donnelly, CFE, of Keller, Texas, is a retired postal inspector with 38 years of law enforcement experience on the municipal, county and federal levels. Mr. Donnelly has a master's degree in public administration and is a Master Texas Peace Officer. For the last 10 years of his federal career, he worked almost exclusively on identity theft and related fraud cases. He is the author of "Identity Theft: Hunting Down and Nabbing the Thieves," which appeared in the July/August and September/October 2004 issues of Fraud Magazine. He has taught identity crimes classes for the Texas Commission on Law Enforcement Officer Standards and Education. He can be contacted at [email protected].