When I think back to that day, I still feel a tremor of panic. I was lying in a hospital bed, tearfully awaiting scans to determine whether I may have a brain tumour or a chronic autoimmune disease, multiple sclerosis (MS). And I truly believed my life could soon be over.
I’d been suffering from a tightness in my chest for several months. Then came a sudden inability to place one foot in front of the other. It wasn’t that I was bedridden exactly, but I had to force my legs to move one after another, rather than without thinking.
Thankfully the scans revealed I was suffering from neither a tumour or MS. But there was a surprising reason I was suddenly physically unable to walk: extreme stress.
I hadn’t known it could take such a physical toll, but my nervous system had simply shut down – literally paralysing me.
The cause? I had recently lost £180,000 of inheritance money from my beloved father to what I now know to be a fraudulent investment scheme.
The operator, an elderly and terribly British gentleman from Monaco named Jack Baker, had promised a return on my loan of around 28 per cent (£50,000) and the whole lot would be repaid to me within four to six months.
This was money I’d earmarked to pay off a major chunk of the mortgage on my home, so I could reduce my working hours as a self-employed communications consultant to spend more time with my family. I had also hoped to treat my two children to a couple of holidays of a lifetime.
But as the months ticked by, it became clear the money had vanished – and with it my health, my sanity and any chance of becoming a more present parent.
I sank into a deep, debilitating depression, despite never having experienced from mental health issues in my life. My children suffered terribly from the shock of seeing their mummy so distracted, low and physically and emotionally depleted.
When I gently explained to them why I was so unwell, one of them even offered to give me their pocket money which was utterly heartbreaking.
Meanwhile I became mired in feelings of intense guilt, shame, an unshakable sense of foolishness and fury: sentiments commonly experienced by victims of such ‘investment opportunities’.
Despite spending thousands on legal fees and winning a court case against Baker, with him being ordered to repay the money plus interest and legal fees, to this day I have never seen a penny of my money.
As an intelligent, articulate and university-educated woman, I would never have dreamed I could fall for such a scam. I’ve never been a risk taker – particularly with money – and at the time, in June 2015, I was 48 and hardly naive.
Mother-of-two Anne Davies, now 58, who lost £180,000 to a sophisticated investment scam
‘Property gurus’ like Baker seeking investment often target those who are vulnerable and not thinking straight. That person might be busy, stressed, distracted or, in my case, deeply upset by the loss of a loved one.
I was also in the depths of grief for my mum, who had died six days before, when a female acquaintance invited me to an audience with Baker, who portrayed himself as a highly experienced land and property investor.
It was May 2015 and, given that I could barely figure out what to wear or cook for dinner such was my upset, I shouldn’t have been making decisions about investing such a lot of money at this point.
My parents had been divorced; this wasn’t money from my mum but my dad who’d died some years before. To ensure I spent it wisely, I had pored over research about how best to invest it. It had been sitting in my bank account, earning scant interest for years, when I decided property would be the best bet. After chatting to others who’d successfully done it, the opportunity to meet someone like Baker felt too good to miss.
By this point I was living in France, having moved there from the UK in the early 2000s. I’d visited for a work conference and fallen in love with the place. Baker’s event took place in a hotel in a village next to Monaco, where he lives, with around four other people.
Well presented in trousers and a jacket, he was around 70 and spoke with a Home Counties accent. There were about five or six of us and he told us he had an opportunity for individual investments of £750,000 to purchase properties in the north of England.
I told him I didn’t have that sum of money and wouldn’t invest it with someone I didn’t know, even if I did.
I thought no more about it until a week or so later when he contacted me directly, saying he had a more suitable opportunity.
He’d bought a huge piece of land in the South Wales Valleys, and was selling off individual plots for people to build houses on, but needed an investment of £180,000 to pay for the likes of engineering works and streetlights on the site.
He explained that I would receive interest – and the return of my entire investment. He claimed he had already sold several plots and had partially repaid the lender.
To be precise, he promised me a 28 per cent return, equating to £50,000. My interest was piqued, particularly as my mother had Welsh ancestors.
To be cautious, though, I insisted on visiting the site in Blaina with my partner and stepfather. But none of us had experience with property investments, and it turned out to be a huge error.
Baker’s sidekick showed us the two most desirable plots with great views, which had been sold to a couple from East Anglia, and a lovely Georgian style-house that had been constructed by a local man on another plot.
Although we were reassured the site did indeed exist, when Baker said data protection meant he couldn’t oblige my request for evidence of people who’d successfully invested their money with him, I declined.
In hindsight, I realise it was at this point he began playing games – and where I should have walked away, never to return.
Baker told me they wouldn’t have needed my investment after all as he’d struck up a deal with a company in Scotland instead.
The scammer told Anne he had an opportunity for individual investments of £750,000 to purchase properties in the north of England
‘It’s a shame,’ he said, ‘because your investment would have been guaranteed and returned very quickly.’
Psychology dictates we always want what we can’t have, so I then began to regret declining.
Later, Baker called me and said: ‘While I was out walking last Sunday I was thinking that I wish you’d invested, because my business partner and I were saying what a nice person you are and how much we’d have loved you to be on board.’
These people are consummate actors, playing a part, purely to take your money. And Baker’s performance was Oscar-worthy. Playing the role of the English gent, he was so convincing and charming that I changed my mind.
Having always been risk-averse, I’d had enough of just plodding along as little old me and saw the investment as a means of giving my family a more comfortable life.
I would come away with around £230,000 in total after the investment, which would allow me to pay off a hefty chunk off my mortgage and whisk my children away to places such as South America or Iceland.
I called him back to say I’d had second thoughts; Baker was sanguine as always, showing little emotion. I found myself a firm of accountants in the UK with an in-house lawyer who drew up a 12-page contract Baker and I both signed.
It contained various clauses, including that my investment had to be repaid in full with interest within a minimum of four months and a maximum of six.
So, in July 2016, a year after our introduction, I transferred my inheritance to Baker’s English bank account. If only I’d thought to be sensible and invest 10 per cent (£18,000) first and see whether I got my money back before parting with any more.
Baker was so clever; feeding me snippets about his own life to make me feel like I knew him. He mentioned his wife had injured herself and he wasn’t happy he had to pitch in with the household chores. There was also a comment about his nephew thinking of investing with him, despite his later saying he had no brothers and sisters.
Alarm bells rang when four months passed by and there was no money. Then it was five, then six months. Nothing.
I felt very nervous indeed as I sent several letters to Baker requesting the monies be repaid in line with the terms of the contract.
He asked to meet me in December 2016 in his favourite cafe in Monaco. Though he was overly friendly when we met, kissing me on both cheeks instead of our usual business-like handshake, he didn’t mince his words: ‘I can’t pay you.’ No apology, no explanation.
He acted so nonchalantly, assuring me an extension of three months was entirely reasonable in these circumstances.
When mid-April arrived, however, he wrote to me saying: ‘By now you will have guessed that I was unable to make the deadline.’ One of the clauses in the contract was that any defaults in payment were to be signalled. This had been ignored.
Realisation sank in that our family money wasn’t going to be returned. I felt incredibly upset – as though I’d betrayed my dad by losing his money. I’d wake every morning feeling like someone had kicked me in the chest.
The stress was like nothing else I’ve experienced. One morning I felt as though someone was sitting on my chest and that I might have a heart attack.
I was frantic with worry about how on earth I’d pay the mortgage and bills without this money. Plus due to a recent house move, my outgoings had increased. So I started teaching in English language schools on top of my day job, utterly exhausted by the mental load of trying to pursue my missing money.
Outside work I became a recluse, spending hours searching for information about fraud on the internet in a desperate quest for a solution.
I sought advice from a property expert, who put me in touch with an ex-fraud squad officer in the UK, and contacted Action Fraud as well as the police in France, England and Monaco.
The issue was this: Baker lived in Monaco but the land was in the UK. The French police said as the land isn’t in France, they couldn’t help. While the British police said they were powerless because Baker lived in Monaco.
I met with the ex-fraud squad officer who recommended a lawyer with expertise in the field. He, in turn, suggested calling Baker to try and talk sense to him. He asked Baker why he didn’t just repay the debt and get me off his case.
I listened in as Baker told him: ‘If this woman causes me any more problems by asking for the money back, I will sell the company to someone unrelated to me, the debt will no longer be mine, and legally speaking we will then owe her nothing and she will never see her money again.’
Then, in June 2018, I tried to get out of bed one morning and my feet wouldn’t go where I wanted them to. I didn’t fall and wasn’t bedridden but I really struggled to walk. I wore long skirts to try and hide my gait and went to my GP, who referred me to the hospital.
When I explained my situation to the consultant, he insisted on brain scans and tests to check for anything sinister.
I was terrified, picturing my loved ones pushing me around in a wheelchair. Unable to see a way out of my situation, I had dark thoughts about throwing myself off a bridge.
With the results of the scan, my consultant reassured me that by reducing stress I would be able to walk properly again. That’s when I decided: Baker may have taken my emotional well-being and my money, but I vowed not to let him destroy my physical health too.
Slowly, I forced myself to start venturing out of the house, even just to the shops in the village; something I’d refrained from doing because if I saw anyone I knew and they asked how I was, I’d burst into tears.
I hired a UK-based lawyer who took the case to the county court, winning in March 2019 – he was able to overcome the issue of Baker living in Monaco on the basis the land was in the UK.
After the hearing, he phoned with good news: ‘We’ve won, isn’t that great!’ A final charging order was issued by the court for Baker to pay me nearly £350,000 by March 2019, which included the original investment, the 28 per cent return I’d been promised, interest on the money and my legal costs.
But I told my lawyer it wouldn’t feel like a victory until the money was in my bank account.
Six years on, I haven’t seen a penny.
The lawyer arranged mediation with Baker, who offered to give me a bungalow he claimed they were building on site in lieu of the cash. But a local estate agent confirmed that, despite a hoarding announcing the construction of the bungalows, not so much as a spade had been put in the ground.
Soon, through my lawyer, I started getting messages from other people who’d invested in Baker’s projects, or purchased shares in his company and hadn’t received their money back.
One chap who’d invested £300,000 felt too ashamed even to tell his wife. He mentioned another man who’d been part of a group who’d invested – and lost – £400,000, and even a bank that had not been repaid. And we heard of a third who lived in Monaco and had handed over €300,000 (£260,000) to Baker.
In 2020, my lawyer encouraged me to try and force the sale of the land, but this would have cost around £20,000 in legal fees. Even then, there was no guarantee I’d get a penny because the bank – with whom Baker had taken a huge loan – had first charge on the land.
That’s when I told myself I had to move on. The money was gone. There was nothing more I could do.
When I confided in friends, their reactions ranged from shock to tears. They were wonderful, taking me out for coffees and dinners, giving me clothes they no longer wanted as I couldn’t afford to buy anything new for myself or my family.
While I scrimped and saved, I sought solace in exercise, resurrecting my old love of playing tennis.
My biggest mistake was blindly trusting someone who, in essence, was a complete stranger. Had I not been grieving for my mother, I am sure I would’ve spotted the red flags.
Now, ten years on, I’m sharing my experience in the hope that it will help warn other people off similar property investment schemes. It cost me dear, financially, emotionally and physically.
- Jack Baker is a pseudonym
As told to Sadie Nicholas