Fraud couple’s elaborate cons
Faking dying is just one of a string of scams a Gauteng couple are accused of orchestrating
THE news was heartbreaking. For months, she’d been doggedly fighting an all-consuming illness – all for naught. On a late summer’s day in November last year, the news came. Her body was worn out, her organs were failing. Doctors said she had a matter of days to live.
Colleen Lingwood (30) surrounded herself with her closest friends at her home in Weltevredenpark, Roodepoort, to tell them she was dying.
She was a victim of the listeriosis epidemic, she said, and her body couldn’t fight anymore.
“We were devastated,” recalls Helen Minnie*, one of her friends.
“To have to say goodbye to a dear friend knowing that any breath could be her last – everyone was incredibly emotional.”
The friends witnessed how Andrew Lingwood (28) sat at the foot of his wife’s deathbed, weeping uncontrollably. And each time Colleen struggled to speak, he’d tell her, “Don’t exhaust yourself, please, my love . . . I need you.”
Charlotte van Wyk*, another friend, recalls how the friends rallied when Andrew told them he’d run out of money in the last weeks of his wife’s treatment.
“A whole bunch of us each paid thousands of rands into their account,” Helen says.
And then a miracle happened: days went by and Colleen was still around – then the days became weeks and months.
Finally, the group of friends were shocked to discover that Colleen had never even been sick at all. And her story – allegedly cooked up to swindle thousands of rands from her friends – is just the tip of the iceberg.
In October this year, police arrested Colleen and Andrew Lingwood.
The preliminary charge sheet lists more than 31 people who claim the couple defrauded them using a fake time-share scheme. One alleges she lost more than R300 000. As the couple await trial in jail, new charges against them are added almost daily.
“Just thinking how brilliantly she executed the plan, it’s horrifying,” Helen says.
“But the one question everyone’s asking is, ‘What happened to the money?’ ”
‘Just thinking how brilliantly she executed the plan, it’s horrifying’
THE residents of the suburban street where Colleen and Andrew had been renting a double-storey house were curious when police officers from five surrounding police stations arrived at the house, lights flashing and sirens wailing, early one Sunday morning in October.
The couple had isolated themselves from the neighbours, says Ingrid Smith*, one of the residents.
“We’d try to say hi or make friends but they weren’t interested – they’d just mumble something and disappear into the house.”
On the day of the arrest, the whole street came to watch as Colleen and Andrew were taken away in handcuffs, she says. “It was like something from a movie.”
Then the accusations started piling up. It seems no scam was beneath them in the pursuit of money – not even a fake miscarriage.
The largest amount Colleen is accused of swindling from one person is R334 791 which, according to the charge sheet, she obtained after presenting herself as a rental agent to a property owner in Douglasdale, Johannesburg.
She allegedly told the owner there were legal irregularities in the rental contract and the tenants’ rent should be paid into a separate account until she’d solved the discrepancies. The owner alleges Colleen used this ruse to steal R334 791 over more than a year.
“Everyone wants to know how something like that can go one for so long,” Helen says. “But people have no idea. She’s incredibly intelligent – she has a way of speaking to you that makes you trust her completely.”
There was one tall tale after another, John Wilkie*, another friend, tells YOU.
“Two years ago Colleen said she was pregnant with triplets. She and Andrew had wanted to move to the Cape West Coast for a quieter life. Colleagues, friends, family – everyone gave money to help them do that.
“Then came the story: Colleen had been mugged and lost the babies. They were in tears, broken. And what happened? Everyone told them not to worry about paying back the money.”
There were “hundreds of stories”, John says. “Like the one where she had only one kidney . . . And then there was dialysis, doctors’ visits, petrol money when she had to meet possible donors . . . Nothing was taboo.”
Suspicions about the time-share scheme and Colleen’s “listeriosis diagnosis” probably signalled the beginning of the end of the alleged scams.
“It started on Facebook,” Charlotte says. “She wrote, ‘The rumours are true – I’m dying. Doctors can’t do anything more for me.’
“I was shocked. Wow. After everything she’d been through! We all took pity on her. We’d ask if we could visit and each time she’d have some excuse, like, ‘I’m worn out . . . I simply can’t speak’.”
Then in November last year, Colleen and Andrew invited their closest friends to say farewell.
“Andrew told us Colleen had decided not to stay in hospital any longer. She didn’t want to be connected to the machines anymore and we should come and say goodbye to her at home.
“The whole thing was so well planned. At one point, Andrew even told a friend not to sit on the bed because Colleen had a catheter. People were praying for her – it’s outrageous.”
That evening when Charlotte got home, Colleen sent her a message. “Thank you for your friendship. I’m so sorry to put you through this.”
When Colleen didn’t die, she told her friends that doctors were stumped – that it was nothing short of a miracle.
“And then the requests for money really started coming in. Colleen would survive, but they needed money for some overseas doctor and an operation. And we, the suckers, paid up. Each time the operation was postponed. Each time, there were more complications.”
Up to R10 000 at a time was paid into her account.
But in October this year the house of cards started tumbling down when one of Colleen’s alleged victims inquired about her missing money on social media.
One person after another started coming forward and, within a few days, more than 100 accusations had been made about how she’d scammed friends and family.
At the time of going to print, the Facebook group “Have You Been Scammed by Colleen Lingwood”, had more than 500 members.
“Now that they’re behind bars, most of the accusers are realising we’d shared the same suspicions – but no one had said anything,” Helen says. “One thing we all know for certain is we’ll never see that money again.”
COLLEEN and Andrew have appeared in the Randburg magistrate’s court three times, says Wessels Schiebler, the state prosecutor in the case. So far, two of the couples’ legal counsel have distanced themselves from the case but Schiebler said he could not elaborate on the reasons for this.
When she was first jailed, Colleen indicated she needed to be held in the medical ward because she claimed she was pregnant. But Schiebler says she recently requested to be moved to a regular cell.
Both have now applied for legal aid and were due to appear in court again on 26 November. They haven’t been able to apply for bail because they couldn’t provide a legal home address. The couple’s family have also refused to take them in, according to the charge sheet, and they’ve been evicted from their rented house.
“We’re all struggling with the fact that we could’ve been duped so easily,” Charlotte says.
“She used things that are personal to many people – miscarriages, illness . . .
“Maybe we wanted to believe in the greater good or maybe we hoped no one would lie about something like that.” *Not their real names.
‘There were hundreds of stories. Like the one where she had only one kidney . . . ’