How BBC secret filming exposed a £28m timeshare fraud

It was described by prosecutors as one of the largest frauds of its kind in the UK.

A total of 14 people were convicted for their part in a £28m conspiracy to defraud more than 3,500 timeshare owners.

Victims were desperate to escape their decades-old timeshare contracts and began seeking help.

Most were between 60 and 80 years old. More than 500 lost more than £10,000 and one surrendered more than £80,000.

Targets were subjected to high-pressure sales meetings lasting up to six hours. They were left out of pocket by having useless fake “credits” and were often still locked into expensive timeshare contracts they could no longer use.

The company at the center of the scam was Sell My Timeshare (SMT). They took people’s money to fund their owners’ lavish lifestyle of private schools, millionaire mansions, and private jets.

Mark Rowe, who tops the company, was sentenced to seven-and-a-half years in prison in January for conspiracy to defraud.

On Friday his wife Nicola was one of the last three people to hear their sentences.

He was given a two-year suspended prison sentence at Southwark Crown Court after pleading guilty to money laundering.

This is a long-awaited development and represents a major win for those speaking out, police and prosecutors.

I prepared a program nine years ago. BBC Scotland Investigates The series reveals how SMT robs its victims through secret footage.

Almost a decade later, the end of the criminal process provides some closure for those who were defrauded. But it’s worth knowing how scammers were able to get away with it for so long.

I first heard of SMT in the summer of 2016. I was working in the investigations unit at BBC Scotland News, making current affairs and investigative documentaries.

A friend told her that her mother had inherited the use of a timeshare apartment in Spain and, after years of vacationing there, began to back out of the contract.

It’s worth noting here how popular timeshares became with British holidaymakers in the 1980s and 1990s.

Timeshares allowed people to access the same accommodation year after year or to swap weeks with other owners who owned properties in other resorts. Approximately 600,000 sun lovers took advantage of this opportunity.

The initial timeshare rush was accompanied by many stories of rip-off merchants misselling their properties. They formed the basis of consumer and investigative TV programs such as Watchdog and The Cook Report.

The typical timeshare contract has tied investors in for decades.

By 2016, owners who had enjoyed their guaranteed place in the sun for 20 or 30 years were aging and many were looking for ways to say goodbye to their timeshares.

Some had reduced mobility and were unable to reach their properties. Some felt they were getting what they wanted. And some died; In many cases, loved ones inherited contracts, including annuities and maintenance fees.

This is where my friend’s mother found herself. He searched the internet for answers and found SMT, a company whose website promised to release him from his contract.

However, his family, who paid a fee and arranged a meeting with them, smelled bad.

Further investigation revealed that hundreds of people said they paid money and got nothing from it. They actually lost money. Many.

Our team started investigating what was happening. It quickly became clear that some questionable individuals were operating in the timeshare resale industry.

One attorney had hundreds of individual complaints pending to sue SMT.

We talked to people who used the company and they all told the same story. They thought the company would buy their property from them, but when they went for a consultation (for which they paid upfront) they were told there was no resale value.

Instead, they were encouraged, even pressured, to spend more money to invest in “Monster Rewards,” named after the outfit’s parent company, Monster Travel.

It wasn’t entirely clear what these were exactly. They appeared to be a form of currency that provided discounted travel and access to services and shopping opportunities

And apparently, after a while they were “exchangeable” with other owners.

Investing the money upfront now will result in a final return that will cover the SMT’s fees and leave the property owner at a profit, finally freed from the pesky contract.

Too good to be true? Yes, yes.

If these accounts are true, this was a major fraud.

This is called “bait-switch”.

Someone – in this case the SMT – “baits” the customer by advertising a particular product or service, but then says it is not available, pushing the customer towards another, inferior product or service.

This is illegal. Armed with all the testimony we had collected, we arranged for one of the company’s meetings to be secretly filmed.

This takes time, effort, and clear arguments as to why this is the only way to gather the information needed to prove wrongdoing.

Armed with this permission, our small team arranged a meeting with one of the company’s representatives in Stratford-Upon-Avon.

Our host, personal finance reporter Fergus Muirhead, filmed the entire three-hour encounter, pretending to be a commoner hoping to free his mother from her timeshare contract.

And everything went exactly as we were told.

To begin with, Fergus was required to sign a confidentiality agreement designed to prevent him from revealing anything discussed at the meeting.

Any idea that the company might sell the (fictional) property was quickly dismissed. The only way out of this would be through Monster Rewards, and he’d have to instantly cough up £6,740 to get them.

In keeping with the great traditions of British journalism, we made our excuses and left.

We released the program on October 24, 2016.

Prior to transmission, we gave SMT the right to respond to our allegations of illegal business practices.

They denied any wrongdoing and questioned both the transparency and integrity of our sources. They said our claims were defamatory and reserved the right to take legal action against the BBC.

What they don’t know yet We published the online news piece It was because everything was taped before transmission.

We never heard from them again.

A few days after publication, we were contacted by police who were currently investigating SMT. They wanted to obtain the footage of the recorded meeting.

As journalists, we must be careful when handing over the materials we collect for reporting to the police. We must remain independent and the BBC will not normally hand over unused material in such cases without a court order.

Therefore, we waited until the court order was issued for the material and we complied with it. And that was the last we heard on the subject for the next three and a half years.

As the country moved towards its first Covid lockdown in February 2020, we received information that 19 people linked to the firm had been arrested.

Fergus and I were asked to give witness statements. We spent the next five and a half years not knowing if we would be called or what was going on.

We learned that four cases had been heard at Southwark Crown Court in London over the course of two years, only after the judicial process ended this week. Reporting restrictions were in effect until final criminal charges were filed.

There were 14 convictions in total.

Among them was 60-year-old Josephine Cuthill-Fox, whom we filmed in 2016. He was sentenced to 24 months’ imprisonment, suspended for two years.

The Crown Prosecution Service (CPS) will now focus on tracking the money and assets defendants have obtained through their crimes.

This story is not over yet.