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15th March 2014
Simon watched Nicks arrange the bank notes in his wallet in denomination order, Queen’s head facing forward. They were in the cafe of the Merseyside Maritime Museum.
“So how many do you need?” he eventually asked him.
“Two,” Nicks replied, replacing his wallet in the side pocket of his combat pants, satisfied with his work. “I’ve written the names down on the back and here’s the old IDs. I still need one set for the next hotel.”
He slid a small white envelope containing three debit cards and driving licences across the table to Simon, who glanced at the names Nicks had written before placing it in his pocket with a smile. “Ok, I’ll get them onto it straight away.”
It was normal practice. Nicks would supply them beforehand with identities he felt comfortable with, and they’d produce standard packages of a debit or credit card and driving licence in each name. Out of boredom, he started to throw in the occasional name that made up a phrase or could be amusing if written in the right form. No one appeared to notice, which served only to entertain him even more. Recent efforts included: Richard Spring, Jack Goff and Michael Hunt.
“Oh, and I’ll remind them to put the cancellation in for just after ten o’clock tomorrow, if that’s ok?” Simon looked at him for confirmation.
“Fine,” Nicks replied. “I’ll have a coffee and an almond slice while I’m waiting for the text.”
It was simple. A booking would be made and later cancelled, taking advantage of hotel cancellation policies. Nicks would receive confirmation then walk in off the street asking if they had a room free. Seemingly by chance they always did. He’d produce a debit card as ‘security’ and the driving licence as his ID, should it be required. If the hotel photocopied his ID for their records, it mattered not because the photo driving licences were produced with an in built transparent layer acting in a similar way to number plates designed to thwart traffic cameras. It was the same with any photo ID he used. Hotel staff very rarely took much notice of photocopies showing a photo too dark to be of any significant use as long as the personal details were visible. If they did comment on it Nicks would apologise and state it was all he had. Faced with losing business over such a triviality the toner always got blamed.
All the bank cards would withstand scrutiny and related to accounts inserted into the relevant banks’ computer systems, complete with a record of payments in and out. Normally he paid in cash but if he had to ‘bug out’ before settling the bill the charged card would always pay out. No names were used twice and all accounts would subsequently be deleted.
“You having another one?” Nicks asked, sipping his latte whilst considering whether to finish it or make it last.
“No, I need to get back to work, they’ll be wondering where I am,” Simon replied as his phone buzzed in his jacket pocket. Reading it he frowned.
“You’re going to need to hang around a bit longer than expected,” he said apologetically.
“Why?”
Simon shrugged. “Not sure at the moment. It just said to put you on hold and they’d get back to me within a couple of days.”
Nicks sighed. “You’d better give me two more IDs.”
He scribbled another two names on the back of the envelope. Standing up and putting on his coat, Simon replaced the envelope in his pocket. “I’ll get these sorted. Text you when they’re ready.”