Consumer champion of the year

I called what I thought was TransferWise’s customer services helpline and lost £168,000

QI recently sold my small flat in Amsterdam, where I have lived for some years. I am 66 and retired, and I felt it was time to move back to the UK and be near my son and his young family. I needed to convert €182,000 (£ 168,000) from the flat sale into pounds and my son suggested I use a service called TransferWise to get the best rate. I wasn’t familiar with it, so he initially helped me to transfer the money. For some time it was showing as “pending”. Being such a large sum I wanted to confirm its receipt, so I googled TransferWise’s customer services number and called it.

I was put through to a man called Brian who said he would be my case manager. He told me that the transfer had been pending for too long. He said I would need to cancel it and start again. He said he would help me process the new transfer by creating an account into which I would pay smaller sums. I was then told to download a number of applications to my phone. Due to the large sums involved Brian told me he needed additional information to verify my identity, and asked me for copies of my passport and driving licence. I was also asked to take a photo of myself.

Then I received a call from TransferWise, but this time from a man called Gergo. I told him that Brian had been helping me process the transactions. Gergo told me I could do the transfer myself, but seemed relaxed about Brian’s involvement. Then I got another call from a girl called Liisi. She explained one of the last payments had failed, so I had to provide more documentation to prove I wasn’t money laundering. I was asked for proof of my flat sale, which I provided.

Brian was then calling me again and at this point, I was in such a state with all the phone calls, documentation requests and different people I was speaking to. He was in full control of my phone and processed all of the payments for me. He reassured me the transaction would be complete.

When he called me again to say he needed to process the final amount, my son was with me in the car. He noticed that Brian was controlling my phone. He knew something was wrong. He called TransferWise while Brian was still on the line. Brian told my son that he probably wouldn’t get through as all the servers were down. But he persisted and after explaining the situation to the real TransferWise, it was clear I had been scammed.

Gergo and Liisi had been genuine TransferWise staff, but Brian was a fraudster. They all spoke in the same way and I never once suspected I was being tricked. But now I know Brian stole my money, I feel like such a fool. Unless I can get my money back I will be unable to buy a home in the UK.

Not knowing where I will live now that I’m retired and no longer earning is terrifying. I thought I had it all figured out. – LR, via email

AYou were stung by a criminal gang that has been running this charade for some time, but under a different guise. You appear to be the first affected TransferWise customer, but a few weeks ago I was contacted by the frantic daughter of a Revolut customer who lost £185,000 to a fraudster, also supposedly called Brian, posing as the online bank’s customer services arm. I believe the same low life that conned you may have been responsible for setting up both the fake websites, phone numbers and Google adverts which lured you in. Revolut swiftly refunded the entire sum without my involvement, leaving me optimistic that TransferWise would do the same for you. I didn’t want to get your hopes up prematurely, but when TransferWise admitted it had known about the fake site some weeks before you fell victim, I felt sure a full refund must be coming your way. Although it had desperately tried to get the website taken down, shamefully, it had failed

‘I never once suspected I was being tricked. Now I know he was after my money I feel like a fool’

to warn its customer base. However, a refund wasn’t to be.

Instead, TransferWise sent you an email containing a set of flimsy legal arguments and a paltry offer of £4,000 in compensation. Your son described it as “disgusting”. Personally, I felt it was one of the most unfair assessments of a fraud case I’d seen. Far from a balanced and fair view of events, it read as though it were written by a solicitor desperately defending TransferWise in court. It was at this point that I knew this wasn’t going to be an easy win. I was going to have to rev up my engines and go all guns blazing for justice.

First, I needed to unpick the key arguments contained in the letter. The £4,000 was offered on the basis that the first four transfers were “unauthorised” because they went to an account that was not yours, without your intent or consent. The rest, it alleged, were “authorised”. The part about the first four transfers was entirely correct but by pointing this out, the lawyer shot himself in the foot. Because, clearly, all the transfers were fraudulent, and none were authorised. Your only intention was to pay €182,000 into your own TSB account.

Next, TransferWise said it would not refund your losses in full because you broke its terms and conditions by authorising a third party to access your account. Again, one doesn’t need a law degree to recognise this argument as fundamentally flawed. TransferWise’s terms and conditions are designed to prohibit customers from knowingly allowing others to access their account. This is what it could reasonably be taken to mean by a customer.

At no stage did you knowingly grant access to anyone other than TransferWise, the account provider. You were unwittingly tricked into doing so by an experienced criminal.

I told TransferWise straight up: the offer of £4,000 was unacceptable. I told it its arguments would never stand up in court or with the Financial Ombudsman. I also questioned why it had glossed over its own failure to warn customers about the scam, which I see as the biggest failing of all here. I told it I wasn’t giving up on you and demanded a full refund. But still, it didn’t come.

Two days later, TransferWise upped its offer to £30,000. This was on the basis that it had now accepted its letter wasn’t up to scratch, particularly its argument about the “authorised” payments, which it admitted was utter twaddle. However, it stood by its interpretation of its terms around third-party access. It didn’t accept my counter argument, yet it had no comeback.

That’s when I decided to call in legal support of my own. A consumer lawyer with decades of experience backed me up, describing TransferWise’s position as “absurd”, bolstering my position with examples of relevant case law. I told TransferWise I had plenty more where that came from. I was prepared to phone up every legal expert in my contacts book if I had to. That evening I received a call from TransferWise. Two more of “Brian’s” victims had come to light. It was taking significant steps to protect customers, and finally, there was the news I’d been holding out for. TransferWise had decided to refund you, and the other victims, for your losses in full. When I phoned you to tell you, I heard your tears of elation as your voice broke down the line. I was so thrilled to put you out of your misery, as I know how much you had been torturing yourself. Around £33,000 of your funds were frozen in various accounts, and were already due to come back to you before my involvement. But without me putting up this fight, you would have had to go to the Ombudsman to claim the remaining £135,000. Now you can get on with buying a home and starting a new life near your son and dear grandchildren.

When I know a case is worth fighting for, I will never give up. But even after a win there is always more to do. Now it’s over to Google to stop accepting money from heartless criminals buying adverts to con the public. I am not interested in hearing excuses – it must be fixed. Now.