KANKAKEE, Illinois. Earl Worneke has been a bank branch manager for 43 years and says he has a “Yogi Berra” feeling about the current economic climate. “It’s deja vu all over again,” he says as he offers this reporter a Life Saver from a candy dish on his desk. “When I started out in banking interest rates were going crazy under Jimmy Carter and we had to bribe customers to keep them from going to mutual funds. Same thing is happening today.”
With interest rates remaining stubbornly high, many banks are seeing outflows of deposits that recall the hyperinflation of the late 70s and are responding as their predecessors did, offering consumers gifts to open accounts or increase their balances. “We have picnic baskets for the ladies, and socket wrench sets for the gents,” Worneke says. “But the tried and true ‘unisex’ go-to gew-gaw is still the toaster oven.”
Long derided as obsolete given advances in microwave cooking, the toaster oven is the hardy perennial of bank promotional come-ons, but its low-tech engineering has drawn the attention of cyber-criminals frustrated by bank encryption technology. “We had a guy come in here last week with a check for $500, the minimum to get a toaster oven,” Worneke says. “The new gal at window three opened up our Quik ‘n E-Z Household Checking account for him, and he walked out with a toaster oven free as a bird. The check bounced like a Superball, and now that counter-top appliance is sitting in some pawn shop while the criminal goes scot-free.”
Alarmed by the threat that toaster oven check-kiting scams present, a joint task force of local law enforcement and the Federal Bureau of Investigation has begun to take quiet steps to stop the trend before it spreads like wildfire through the nation’s depository institutions. “We can only do so much,” says Illinois State Trooper Mike Hampy. “Fortunately, the FBI has the tools to violate people’s constitutional rights and get away with it.”
A “sting” operation has been set up at Worneke’s bank, with the lure a two-rack toaster oven that can brown an English muffin and heat a “tuna melt” sandwich at the same time. “The Chinese supposedly have developed something that’s more powerful,” says Hampy, “but they’re allowed to starve their people so they can pour more resources into sophisticated weaponry.”
After advertisements were placed in the Kankakee Sentinel-Courier, the only newspaper remaining in this town of 26,000, a man in a nondescript “windbreaker” jacket is seen standing outside the entrance to Saluki Savings & Loan this morning, checking his cell phone while he waits for the bank to open.
“Never seen this guy before,” Worneke says to Carol Ann Pflug, the most senior teller at the bank. “Press the call buzzer if he tries anything funny.” The bank’s doors open at 9 a.m., and the “customer” steps up to Pflug’s window.
“I’d like to open an account and get the toaster oven, please,” he says with a forced smile as he glances over his shoulder at Worneke.
“Certainly. What’s your name?”
“Marvin Gardens.”
“That used to be my favorite property when I played Monopoly as a kid,” Pflug says as she hands him the papers needed to open the account.
“Yeah, I got teased about it a lot,” the man says.
“Well, at least your name wasn’t ‘Park Place,'” Pflug says with a laugh.
The man fills out the signature card and IRS form W-9 and hands them across the counter.
“Perfect,” Pflug says. “Now, how were you going to fund the account?”
“I’ll give you a check on my account at Encino Valley Credit Union.”
“Encino California?”
“Yes.”
“Well, for out of state checks there’s a waiting period.”
“There is?”
“Yes. You can put the tuna melt in the toaster oven, but you can’t take it out until the cheese is melted,” she says with a laugh.
“Ha!” the man says. “You’re a real kidder.”
“That’s what they tell me at bridge club,” Pflug says as she hands the toaster oven over the counter. “Have a nice day.”
The man turns to leave but as he crosses the threshold at the bank’s entrance he is surrounded by plain clothes law enforcement officers who hog-tie him and throw him to the ground.
“What are you doing, I know my rights!” “Gardens” screams.
“You have the right to remain silent, and you have the right to court-appointed counsel if you can’t afford a lawyer,” one of the arresting officers says, “but you can’t eat that tuna melt until your check clears.”