The Southwest Counterfeiter by Garbis Krajekian

Author:Garbis Krajekian
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: thriller, money, police, making money, heist, counterfeiting, money making, counterfeit money, counterfeit, counterfeiter
Publisher: Garbis Krajekian

Eluding the police in a bank, an encounter with a detective, and another invention

In early December 2010, I went on my last trip for the year to Texas. Toward the end of the trip I was in San Antonio, Texas and had about two more days’ worth of work left before I returned home.

On a partly sunny afternoon, I arrived at one of San Antonio’s upscale shopping malls. The parking lot was about half full, a sign of a good number of people in the mall.

This was a big, open shopping center, and usually I spent up to twenty-five bills just in this mall alone. I put twenty-five bills in my wallet, entered the mall, and started buying low-price items and ten-dollar gift cards.

There were no signs of any problems. Every store I entered accepted my bill almost no questions asked, just the occasional perfunctory check with a counterfeit-marker-pen.

I was more than half way done when I entered a children’s clothing store. The cashier, who was barely twenty years old, refused to accept my bill for the usual reasons. It didn’t have a watermark she said, and wouldn’t change her mind when I tried to persuade her.

There was a bank branch on the mall property a few shops down from that store, so I told the cashier I would go to the bank and exchange the bill and stop by in a short while—of course, I didn’t intend to do such a thing.

I left and entered another children’s apparel store next door, and made sure no one from the last store saw me. I picked a pair of kids’ pajamas on sale for about twelve dollars and approached the checkout counter.

The cashier, an older Hispanic woman, looked at my bill and questioned it for the lack of a watermark. I explained the features of the older bills to her, and she seemed convinced and accepted the bill. However, she said there wasn’t enough change in the till and that she would be right back, and she took off with the bill to a back room. I had no reason to doubt her because I saw there was no change in the cash drawer.

She reappeared quickly with a few $20 bills in her hand and counted the change back to me. As I was about to exit, a security guard and a uniformed police officer entered the store. This startled me and I sensed something was amiss. My heart started pounding and I had flashbacks of the 2009 incident, but tried to keep it together. For a moment, I thought maybe they were making their routine rounds passing fliers to the retailers as I had observed many of them do in the past.

I nodded hello and tried to exit, but the officer, a Hispanic man in his fifties who had a glistening pate with thinned hair and wore a mustache and glasses, looked at me and calmly said,

“Hold on a minute, have you been passing counterfeit bills in the mall?”

“No, I

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