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The miracle cars scam was an advance fee fraud that ran from 1997 to 2002. It was one of the largest advance fee frauds in world history, as well as the largest automobile fraud in American history. In its run of just over four years, over 4,000 people were tricked into paying an "advance fee"; in order to receive the “chartable bequest” of a motor vehicle, as required by a "Decedent’s", “Last Will and Testament”. Neither the deceased; his alleged will; or an estate of any kind, ever existed. While over 7,000 "cars", were to be "gifted" and transferred to new owners; no cars existed either. In the process the victims were taken for over $21 million. ==The scam== Robert Gomez was a 19-year-old working as a security guard in Los Angeles, and rooming with his co-worker and friend, James R. Nichols. It was Gomez who first alleged to Nichols that he was the adopted son of John Bowers, a wealthy food company executive living in Texas. Later, Gomez would tell Nichols that this Bowers had died. He asked Nichols to serve as the executor of the Bowers estate. Nichols would also later claim to have on an earlier occasion, actually met Bowers at a country club in Long Beach. A year after they met, Gomez and Nichols decided that to save money, they would both move into the Carson California home of Nichols' parents; who were also both longtime members of the Christ Christian Home Missionary Baptist Church of nearby Compton. Soon after their move, (as Nichols' mother would later claim) calls started coming into the Nichols' home from men claiming to be the probate attorney for the Bowers estate, and that they were calling to update the Estate's "executor" (her son James) about the complex legal affairs associated with the estate's disposition, as that disposition was related to Gomez. Three years later, just before Christmas 1997, the then 23-year-old Gomez stepped into the "discipleship pulpit" of the Christ Christian Home Missionary Baptist Church during the announcements segment of the regular Sunday services. Gomez introduced himself as Bowers' adopted son, and the heir to an estate valued at $411 million. Gomez also announced that Bowers had been a devout Christian, and had left instructions in his will that his estate should "gift" a fleet of 16 low-mileage company and personal cars to fellow believers. While the vehicles were not individually identified by their VINs (vehicle identification numbers) or the serial numbers of their legal titles, they were described by their general types. The vehicles were described as late model leased luxury coupes and sedans (i.e., BMWs, Mercedes-Benz, Lexus, and Cadillac), now the property of the deceased’s estate. Over the years, they had been used for both personal and company purposes, and had been based around the country for personal and chauffeured company use. Gomez stated that Bowers' Last Will and Testament intended that the cars were to be gifted to Christians as a charitable bequest. The Christian beneficiary only had to pay a "conveyance fee" of roughly $1,000 to $1,100, each vehicle's estimated title transfer and tax liability. Once the estate cleared probate, the vehicles would be conveyed to their new owners. Gomez prepared the groundwork for his scam by stating that the key details that could be used in the verification of this bequest (the vehicle VIN numbers and/or their State's Title serial numbers, which were the definitive evidence of each vehicles’ actual existence) were under seal, not to be publicly disclosed by the probate court until the estate's final disposition, objections disposed of (if any) and a final probate of the "Bowers Estate" had been entered as both ruling and Order by the Court. Until that time, it ''was'' plausible that the actual details of the dimensions of an "estate", and the proposed disposition of its contents, ''could'' be withheld from general release and/or publication by a gag order imposed by the probate judge. Therefore, Gomez suggested, that to speed the process of “God’s” cars going to “God’s” people, the intended recipients should pay their “transfer fees” in advance, up front, and then simply await the delivery of their cars. Later that day, church members flocked to Nichols' mother, Rose, with money orders and cashier's checks, as Nichols had said was required by the estate's "lawyers". One of them called the cars "miracle cars," since Bowers had intended them to be miracles for people who had led dreary lives. The name stuck. Almost overnight, Rose Nichols "sold" $30,000 worth of cars to relatives and church members. Gomez and Nichols soon claimed that the fleet of company cars was much larger than the original 16 vehicles; and before long the proceeds reached $1 million. News of the "miracle cars" was spread by word of mouth through the Christian community, and Rose was overwhelmed by the number of people coming forward. Nichols and Gomez then designated several "team captains" to handle "miracle car" sales -- as it turned out, a typical scam technique. It wasn't long before they were overwhelmed as well. Later in 1998, Rose Nichols received a call from Gwen Baker, who worked for Primerica Financial Services in Memphis, Tennessee. She'd heard about the Miracle Cars through her nondenominational charismatic church in Memphis, but was not just interested in buying one of them. Baker also recognized the money-making potential in helping to sell them. She flew to Los Angeles to meet Nichols and Gomez, who immediately hired her as a "National Finder" — a professional sales manager who could also set up a central office for operations. Baker then quit her job at Primerica, and opened an office in Memphis. She worked primarily through pastors of other churches in the Southeast who told their flocks about the cars. By early 2000, two other "National Finders" had joined up—Corinne Conway, an ordained minister in Higginsville, Missouri; and Kim Krawizcki, a former mortgage professional in Philadelphia. The sales figures were staggering. Conway made $992,000 worth of finder's fees in 2000 alone. A professional car finder in the Los Angeles area bought $120,000 in one day. Former NFL players Neil Smith and Ricky Siglar bought a total of $700,000 worth of cars. The promised delivery date of course was "pushed back" numerous times as there were never any cars to deliver, because it was always a scam. However, the Miracle Cars team readily distributed refunds to those who wanted refunds. As was typical of similar schemes, earlier marks could always be refunded their money in full--but were paid out of the proceeds of later victims. Additionally, no one was promised anything of actual cash value other than their miracle car. Once a victim decided they no longer were able to wait, they were only entitled to the full refund of the $1000 to $1100 they had paid. Out of 1,000 marks in a month, 80 percent were willing to wait and that 10 percent were asking for a refund. The scam could easily meet the $100,000 in refund payments to the 10 percent who wanted their money back out of the $800,000 from those who had not yet decided that that it was a scam. To ensure that those willing to wait wouldn't eventually demand their money back, Gomez used his friendship with the finance manager of a Toyota dealership in Gardena to fabricate letters stating that the cars were being stored in secure lots across the Los Angeles area. As it turned out, there was no John Bowers, no estate, and no probate case. Most importantly, there were no cars. The money was actually being used primarily to finance Gomez's ambitions of becoming a professional gambler. Knowing that the holding companies for the casinos had names that sounded much like those of banks, he had Nichols wire the proceeds from the scam to his accounts at the casinos. He once won $1 million playing pai gow poker, and often gambled with Larry Flynt. Nichols and Gomez ended their partnership in September 2001. Nichols used some of the proceeds from the scam to open a custom car parts business in Las Vegas. 抄文引用元・出典: フリー百科事典『 ウィキペディア（Wikipedia）』 ■ウィキペディアで「Miracle cars scam」の詳細全文を読む スポンサード リンク
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