Why was it so easy for a crook to open a bank account in my name?  (2024)

Onenight last spring, after I'd gone to bed in my Suffolk home, a criminal somewhere in the world went on to the Bank of Scotland website and opened a fraudulent bank account in my name.

The only pieces of information this scammer needed were my name, address and date of birth.

The bank — once the model of Scottish thrift and Edinburgh caution — then handed the fraudster an immediate overdraft facility of £500, without ever requesting a face-to-face meeting.

The criminal promptly set up a bogus direct debit and siphoned off £500 from the account. I was a victim of identity theft or 'personation'.

The fraudster had easily obtained my details from the electoral register, a public document freely available to the public.

What helped the crooks most, however, was that I had been a customer of Scottish Widows for many years. This assurance company is a subsidiary of Lloyds Banking Group, which also owns the Bank of Scotland and the Halifax.

And, like many financial institutions, Scottish Widows shares its customers' personal data with business partners.

In my case, this meant that when the fraudster tried to open an account with Bank of Scotland in my name, it was able to cross-reference the details the scammers provided with genuine information stored on my file with its sister business.

With 'personation' so easy, it's no wonder that reported cases of identity fraud hit a record high of 174,523 in 2017, according to the fraud prevention service Cifas.

The first I knew of the fraudulent account in my name was ten months later, when I received a letter from Bank of Scotland —founded in 1695 and the country's oldest bank — chasing me for money. It turns out that the fraudster had exceeded the £500 overdraft limit by £29.05.

When I tried to phone the bank to clear up the matter, I was connected to a woman called Meghna, who was based in India.

She said that before she could help, she needed my personal details — ironically, the same ones used in the crime against me.

I declined to give any information, aside from my name and the number of the fraudulent bank account printed on the letter I was sent — and, as a result, she refused to help me.

I then contacted my nearest Halifax branch, which is 20 miles away in Stowmarket, and was put through to someone called Stacey, who was based in the bank's anti-fraud department in Brighton.

She was a model of help and efficiency, and assured me that I would not be held liable for the stolen £500. Good news.

The bank, she told me, would write off the money and remedial action would be taken to protect my identity from further crimes.

She would inform every bank and all financial institutions that I had been the victim of a fraud, and this would be noted on my personal record.

Throughout my life of 76 years, I have never borrowed a penny from a bank or any other financial institution. But if I should suddenly need a loan for some unforeseeable purpose, my spotless record may now be adversely affected as a result of the fraud.

For this, I blame Bank of Scotland's casual willingness to open a bank account for an anonymous crook in my name in the middle of the night.

I may not have lost any money, but what I discovered is that inadequate legal protection has created easy pickings for criminals.

If you or I went into a building society to open a savings account with £5, I'm sure we would have to provide a passport or driving licence to prove our identity.

A Bank of Scotland spokesman says: 'Helping keep our customers' money safe is our priority, and we use sophisticated, multi-layered procedures to prevent fraudulent account applications.

'Unfortunately, in Mr Cole's case, a fraudster was able to get hold of his personal details, which allowed them to complete an account application. We closed the account immediately after we were alerted and will ensure there is no detriment to Mr Cole.'

This week, Bank of Scotland offered me £250 to settle the case. I turned this down and have referred my complaint to the Financial Ombudsman.

Cyber-fraud costs the UK £10.9 billion a year: £210 per adult. Financial Fraud Action UK said a scam was committed every 15 seconds in 2017.

For their part, banks refuse to admit the true scale of their losses. And 'writing off' £500, as happened in my case, is small potatoes for a giant like Lloyds.

Indeed, Money Mail's Stop The Bank Scammers campaign has highlighted the rise in the number of cases and how some banks treat victims with disdain. These hugely profitable businesses are often shamefully slow at resolving issues.

It was only a generation ago that opening a bank account was a privilege afforded only to those whose financial probity had been established to the local bank manager's satisfaction.

CEO of the Lloyds Banking Group, Antonio Horta-Osorio, 55, is the best-paid boss among the Big Four High Street banks. Last year, he pocketed £6.27 million — which makes more than £50 million since he got the job in 2011.

I decided to write and tell him of my experience with his bank.

I await his answer.

If and when I receive it, I should very much have liked to have shown it to Sir Tom Risk, who was the respected governor of the Bank of Scotland and neighbour when I was working for the BBC in Edinburgh in the early Eighties.

Sadly, Sir Tom died in 2012. His obituary in one newspaper described him as 'a banker from an era which long pre-dated the concepts of casino banking, manipulated Libor rates and huge bonuses. He saw himself as a guardian of the public interest . . .'

I have no doubt he would be stirring uneasily in his grave if he knew how the bank is betraying his legacy of vigilance, probity and protection for its customers.

moneymail@dailymail.co.uk