Pants on Fire!

It may sadden you to learn, Dear Reader, that not everyone may be as scrupulously honest as you or I.

It's true.

For some unfathomable reason, some individuals feel the need to tell me outright lies but then persist in those lies even when found out.

I just wish they were better at it.

Take Nicky Lloyd (not his real name) for example. The job started out as a routine doorknock to last known address to encourage Mr Lloyd to make contact with client as they have been unable to get hold of him in a while.

Straightforward, you would expect.

One wedding, maybe a couple of funerals

Today is the Wedding Day of a good friend, and blog reader, Boy Valentine (not his real name).

Being the responsible type of upstanding individual that I am, I have been tasked with the important mission of getting the Groom and Best Man (Saul Danson) to the wedding on time and, presumably, in one piece.

I haven't told him yet that there's just one quick job we have to do on the way.

Seriously, what could possibly go wrong?

In the news: Hey, what do you know, it *is* stalking. Maybe.

As it turns out, Timothy Stitt has discovered that it is stalking even with a licence. At least in Colorado where Mr Stitt was arrested and charged with felony stalking after placing a GPS tracker on a car belonging to one Shantele Sherman.  Mr Stitt was surveilling Sherman on behalf of her estranged husband, Jeff Schudel, who is embroiled in a child-custody dispute.

Actually, Colorado is one of only a handful of US states that does not require PIs to be licenced.

Meanwhile, in another matter, it has been reported that the European Appeal Tribunal has concluded:

"...covert surveillance does not contravene the individual’s right to privacy under Article 8 of the European Convention of Human Rights (ECHR). However the level of covert surveillance cannot be disproportionate to achieving its aims."

 If only Mr Stitt had been living in a more civilised society, eh?

In the news: Aussie tart sues for millions in harassment claim

It isn't often I comment on something in the news (apart from all the other times) but after reading about how Kristy Fraser-Kirk is suing Australian retail giant David Jones for AUD$37million I thought this was worth a post.

Incidentally, Australian PI of some renown (or infamy, depending on your point of view), Frank Monte, also weighs in and you can read all about it here.

Thirtysevenfreakingmilliondollars?

Aussie Bullshit - Psychic finds body, just not one she was looking for

It wasn't Laura Palmer (there was no head) but a psychic investigator looking for a missing Sydney girl instead found a female torso wrapped in plastic in a reserve in Doonside.

You can read about it here.

You might be thinking, "wow, she must be onto something" but remember, she was looking for a six year-old child and found the remains of a thirty-one year-old woman instead.

I suppose they might be roughly the same dimensions, if you lose the head and maybe the limbs. Perhaps the spirits were being vague?

Playing a practical joke, maybe?

If I were a betting man I'd wager the 'psychic' will be trying to capitalise on her 'success'. No doubt she'll have her own 0900 $5.00/minute line any day now.

Quis custodiet ipsos custodes?

Decimus Iunius Iuvenalis knew a thing or two although I secretly think he might have been a member of the Tinfoil Helmet Brigade of his day. Okay, perhaps a Lead Helmet since tinfoil was not invented for almost 2000 years, but I digress.

Who watches the watchers?

Perhaps it is the bane of those of us who watch others for a living, that we slowly succumb to paranoia of being watched ourselves.

Or maybe it's just me.

INFOSEC and you

The weather here has been a bit cold and blustery lately, the latter contributing to a mess in the carpark of my office building. You see downstairs, in the car park, is a communal-use skip for all in the building to throw out their rubbish.

However, with the weather the way it has been, the carpark has been littered with loose papers flying around including bank statements, credit card information, and other personal and financial information regarding clients of several other businesses in this building.

Seriously bad form there, chaps!

More Bullshit: Tarot card readers used in missing persons case in Florida

A recent news article from the US reports how a former private investigator for the family of a missing toddler regularly consulted a team of tarot card readers for leads.

I guess this proves, if nothing else, that some PIs are just as gullible, naive, or retarded as their clients.

Perhaps I'm being a bit harsh, you say? What harm does it do if it beings peace and solace to the family, you ask?

Where do I start?

Corporatespeak

I apologise in advance if this seems unrelated to investigations although there is a passing connection in that it relates to a recent purchase I made of another surveillance technical manual via the internet.

This particular post is regarding words and alternate meanings that others outside your organisation may not understand. I, for example, recently was made aware of my lack of knowledge regarding other possible meanings for 'expedited' and 'goodwill'.

Early in June I came across a reference to a particular book that I had not previously heard of and having found a number of copies available for sale through lesbian.com*, eagerly made my purchase. 

(* Not their real name)

Marketing woes

It's the eternal question: just how do you effectively market a discreet service? There's no point in being so discreet that potential clients can't find you but then I don't want to be plastered on the side of a bus either.

Recently, another PI firm made the news by being caught out (again) doing something of questionable legality. That's the third time in as many years.

Clearly the bad press the previous two incidents generated didn't put off another corporate client with, no doubt, deep pockets so perhaps it's true that bad press is better than no press.

Is it really the case?

What innovative marketing strategies should I be looking into apart from having my incompetence published for all to see nationwide?

A typical day

She leaned forward and gazed into my eyes, pleadingly. "I just couldn't go on like this" she said, almost in a whisper.

My heart stuck in my throat; she was a great-looking dame with fantastic pins a man could die for. A real classy broad. And Frank, her low-down husband, was doing the dirty with his secretary, Blanche. 

It didn't get any better, I'd tailed the lovers back to Louie's on 42nd Street. A real dive where the only thing worse than the cheap gin and stale cigarette smoke were the cheaper digs upstairs. Available by the hour for the discerning clientele, if you get my drift.

And that's where I found them, right above Louie's. Frank and Blanche, both dead, shot at point-blank range and Vera still standing there above the bed, the smoking gat in her hand... 

I wish.