A Deal with the Devil Read online

Page 5


  Victims of the scam, meanwhile, continued to believe she was real and cursed her online. Among all the angry rants, a few people wrote that they were not only convinced that there was a woman named Maria Duval out there, but that she had helped them win money or improve their lives.

  Others at least hoped she could be the real deal. “Since I do not have any proof that she is a scam, I do not believe in ‘false hopes’ as of yet,” one person had written almost a decade earlier in an online forum called Astrocat. Dedicated to the Maria Duval letters and other mail scams, this forum was full of conspiracy theorists, all with their own ideas of who Maria was and where the letters were coming from. Many of these commenters were adamant that only suckers would fall for the idea that this woman was actually real. Some, for example, were convinced that the letters all came from a Singaporean man named Tony. Others argued that letters actually pictured an elderly Argentine man in drag.

  We were also intrigued to see the sheer number of posts from people who had the very same questions we did.

  Have any considered the possibility that this naria [sic] duval business might be part of the business operations of the real criminal organistations [sic]? That is the same organisations who deal with drugs, smuggling, stealing, etc.

  What is up with the Maria Duval entity? This is not one person. I keep getting mail from this outfit chronicling my continued bad luck, UNLESS, I send Maria a check to hold for me. How can this kind of fraud continue, unchecked? I haven’t sent a penny, nor will I. However, the letters get gloomier and more depressing. . . . The letters emanate bad vibes, if you will. Done in a boiler room.

  Some of the implausible theories and clues posted on forums like Astrocat would become important later. At the moment, all the varying accounts only had us confused.

  International investigators, whom we corresponded with via email after reading about their efforts online, couldn’t help us. Despite all their attempts to shut down the scam, they still didn’t know who Maria Duval really was—or if she existed at all.

  “She’s a glamorous European blonde who claims to see the future and has been published in newspapers worldwide. Problem is, she does not exist,” a journalist wrote in 2001, reporting on the New Zealand government’s efforts to expose the scam. Three years later, one of the world’s largest cross-border agencies, the International Consumer Protection and Enforcement Network, described Maria as a “probably fictitious” character when European members led a 2004 effort to shut down her advertisements and mailings in nine countries. This organization set its sights on stopping the operation as complaints poured in from all over Europe claiming that letters were being sent from Maria Duval and another known alias, Marie France. “These probably fictitious names raise false hopes of misfortunate and wretched individuals,” officials wrote at the time.

  Around the same time, Maria caught the attention of the police force in Windsor, the Canadian town right across the river from Detroit and once a prime source of liquor smuggled into the United States during Prohibition. The Windsor police had caught wind of a newspaper ad for Maria in which she claimed “to know the secret of a mysterious ‘luck attracting force’ known as the Egrigor of Friday the 13th.” “Police investigation has revealed that ‘Maria Duval’ is actually a ‘front’ used by a telemarketing firm based in the state of New York,” the Windsor police said in a scam warning at the time. “It is questionable whether ‘Maria Duval’ actually exists.” In 2015, the agency told us that it had been unable to find the person or people responsible, so no charges were ever filed.

  Across the globe, Australian officials launched their own efforts to stop the scam in 2007, after discovering that victims had lost more than $10 million US dollars. Their investigation found that the money being sent in by Australian recipients was being rerouted to a company in Singapore. This company was run by a man named Tony (presumably the same Tony we had seen discussed on message boards), who told investigators that the psychic was his client and that she was in France or Argentina. When Australian reporters confronted Tony in Singapore, accusing him of fabricating the psychic’s existence, he claimed he would arrange for the reporters to meet her in South America, but the meeting never occurred.

  The mystery of Maria even reached the eight-thousand-person town of Wolfurt, nestled in Austria’s Rhine Valley. We emailed the man who was Wolfurt’s mayor at the time the letters were just starting to catch the attention of authorities. In his response, he described a situation very similar to the mailboxes in Sparks, Nevada. “Many people of hole [sic] Europe contacted my office wondering if Mrs. Duval is a real person and if she’s living here. I had to explain that she never lived her [sic] and I never met her,” the former mayor wrote to us. He told us that when he investigated the letters, he discovered that a direct marketing company had used a mailbox in the town’s post office, but once the letters garnered some attention, the box had soon been closed. “Now, I’m retired as a Mayor since 6 years and I’m not astonished, that Duval is still working on,” he said.

  A decade after these many investigations abroad, US officials were also at a loss. As they scrutinized the thousands of letters being sent out with Maria Duval’s name and image and counted the millions of dollars lost to the scam, they couldn’t figure out whether the photo of the striking blond woman with the secretive smile was anything more than a stock image. “It is unclear whether Maria Duval is a real person, or a fictitious character,” US prosecutors said in 2014 court filings.

  All these investigations from around the world reached the same dead end. We spent a full week focused on nothing but researching Maria and couldn’t find a single government agency that had ever spoken to this woman or even been able to locate her for questioning. Instead, all we found were competing theories, stalled investigations, and generic mailboxes being used as some kind of front.

  We had never embarked on an investigation like this. Usually, there was an obvious “bad guy.” In this case, we started out thinking that it was Maria. But we still hadn’t found any proof that this woman was anything more than a photo used over and over again.

  Could investigators be right? Could the woman at the center of this decades-long scam not even exist?

  • • •

  On a mission to test our suspicion that Maria Duval was nothing more than a lucrative work of fiction, we turned to the one group of people we thought might know best. If such a world-renowned clairvoyant truly existed, other self-proclaimed psychics would surely know her. Clearly we didn’t have any on speed dial, so we started digging around online to find well-known psychics from around the world and blasted out an email with questions about Maria Duval, with no idea what would come of it.

  Within a matter of hours, our first response came from a second-generation psychic whose earliest memories, we’d learn, were of playdates with the spirits of her deceased relatives. She nonetheless had something to say about Maria. “I am sure that when you mention the name you don’t get a very positive reaction from the psychic medium community—that is, those of us who do the work for the benefit of others and not for monetary gain,” she wrote. “I do not know where she is any longer. She is alive. I do not, however, want my name associated with her in any way, shape or form. I’m sure you understand.”

  Responses continued to fly in. Several psychics said they hadn’t heard of Maria at all and definitely didn’t know her personally.

  “I do not know her and I’m glad,” wrote an Illinois psychic who makes regular talk radio appearances (according to her website). “There are so many fraudsters out there, and I feel I’m having to collectively work to establish credibility.”

  She said she was very skeptical that Maria was a real psychic like herself: “I tend to think she is a scammer. People who take advantage of people who are desperate are truly dark hearted, dangerous, and often deadly. I’ve steered many away from being scammed out of thousands.”

  How did these psychics come up with this stuff? Was this woman
really suggesting Maria was a dangerous criminal? It wasn’t an ordinary request, but we hadn’t been expecting the responses to be quite so weird.

  An hour later, emails were still pouring in—like this one, from a medium who claims to be able to connect people with deceased family and friends, as well as spirit guides and guardian angels: “Unfortunately I have met several folks pretending to be [Maria],” she wrote. “The last I did hear she had passed. Let me see what I can come up with.”

  And amid a string of duds came an email containing what appeared to be a full-on psychic reading—despite the fact that the psychic had never met her.

  I have never heard of Maria Duval but yes I believe she’s alive. She’s using another name possibly and she may be receiving treatment for illness related to smoking. That’s all I can give you. I pick up nothing about this woman, not even psychic abilities. Be careful with this person. This is not her real name.

  The psychic later wrote back with another tip:

  Btw do you think she’s in Canada? I keep seeing the Canadian flag.

  After another doozy about “universal energy” and “crown chakra” and one from someone claiming to be able to speak telepathically with animals, we didn’t know how much more we could handle. But they kept coming. The founder of the American, Canadian & UK Associations of Psychics & Healers then chimed in, saying that she hadn’t heard of Maria and that Maria definitely hadn’t ever been a member of the organization. This seemed to be more proof she couldn’t possibly exist. Wouldn’t a psychic who gave consultations to international celebrities and politicians, as Maria’s letters claimed, at least be known by this major psychic association?

  There were more dead ends, like the messages from a self-proclaimed Reiki master, an “intuitive relationship analyst” from Australia, a professional tarot card reader, and a Canadian energy healer. Later that night, a New Mexico psychic told us she had been struck by a vision.

  I do Missing Persons work and as a Psychic myself, her eyes read “Help Me.” Look at the people who she sold her work to. I feel that they may have scammed her herself, she may be caught in something that she cannot get out of. I feel that she went into hiding because of what she is caught in. This is the most likely reason that you cannot find her. I read her energy as “dead,” but I believe that this is fear of what she is dealing with.

  There were even more messages the next morning, including one from an animal communicator who had emailed us the previous day. The message was suspiciously similar to the reading that came the night before from the New Mexico psychic.

  Did a quick read on Maria Duval last night.

  Yes she is real.

  Yes she is alive.

  She is retired and not doing readings professionally for the public.

  A scam company co-opted her likeness and reputation and ripped people off for money. Primary focus group being seniors and those with lower educational standards. She felt the only way to “fight” this unauthorized use of her name and likeness was to retire from publicity.

  Heartbreaking really. So offensive.

  The emails slowed to a trickle after that, and we were still unsure about whether Maria was real. All the colorful readings and predictions were amusing. We’d learn later, however, that some were eerily close to the truth.

  • • •

  While some of the psychics were adamant that Maria was real, their confidence seemed to be based on nothing more than their supposed psychic senses and visions. None of them had actually met her. Then, a few days before Halloween, a message came from the South of France, from a psychic named Véronique. There was just one problem: it was written in French. And as far as French went, neither of us could do much more than read a wine list.

  The email arrived in the middle of the night, so we didn’t see the message until the next morning. Preparing for our commutes into the office, we tried to decipher any words that we could. It soon became clear that Véronique was saying something important, something about meeting Maria. Eager to find out what the contents of this email held, we turned to Google Translate, which spit out the following:

  Hello Blake,

  Personally I have not seen since 1994, I know she did return on Callas in 2008 and later I heard from Customers that she had had problems with justice. Now I’ll try to have more accurate information around me about Madame Maria Duval.

  Wait a minute. Did something get lost in translation? Was she talking about the same woman? Could this psychic actually have met Maria Duval? The same Maria Duval from the letters? A few hours later, off the New York City subway and in the newsroom together at our adjacent desks, we reread the email again and again. Still in disbelief, we used Google Translate again to craft a message to send back, asking for more details of this personal encounter with Maria.

  We waited anxiously, spending the time looking at Véronique’s website hoping to gain a better sense of who we were dealing with. The homepage featured a bright purple background. There was a giant purple amethyst at the top, and a note in French explaining Véronique’s uncanny psychic abilities: “My family gift was revealed in my childhood. In some places I felt strange, invisible sensations, I saw deceased. Faced with the people I perceived their intentions, images of the future.”

  She soon responded, and a colleague in our newsroom provided us with a rough translation:

  Yes I have already met Maria Duval in 1994 in a meeting at her office in Callas (France) for a consultation. I have nothing to say again about her work that day, [it was] a serious meeting. Following it, I never saw her again.

  If I have any more info, I’ll let you know.

  Cordially,

  Véronique

  We couldn’t believe it.

  We had found someone who claimed to have met this woman, albeit decades ago. True to form, as journalists, we were skeptical. All the evidence so far backed up our initial suspicion that a real Maria Duval was unlikely to be out there. Yet here was this woman claiming there actually was a psychic in the South of France with this very name.

  Véronique fondly remembered her reading from Maria, though she didn’t mention the letters going out around the world. Even if she was right about Maria’s existence, we still needed to determine whether the Maria she’d allegedly met in France had anything to do with the letters—and if so, how she’d gotten wrapped up in all of this.

  We shifted our focus to the paper trail, looking for any evidence to tie the Maria Duval from Véronique’s consultation in Callas, France, to the letters. Our first hope was to locate birth, citizenship, or even death records from Italy, where both Wikipedia and the Maria Duval letters claimed she had been born. But the country’s strict privacy rules meant that much of this information would be off limits. A similar search for citizenship or death records in France was also fruitless. So instead, we began digging up websites, government documents, articles, and other information on Maria and the letters that used her name over and over again.

  The trail started more than thirty years ago, in 1985, as Ronald Reagan was sworn in for his second term as president, the Cold War dragged on, and the twenty-one-year-old Whitney Houston released her first album. The two of us hadn’t even been born yet. This was when Maria (or someone pretending to be her) was granted a French trademark for the commercial use of the name “Maria Duval.” Until now, we hadn’t done much reporting on government trademarks, which help protect brand names and logos from copycats. We did know, however, that the main reason someone files for a trademark is to sell some kind of product or service.

  Records from a French government website showed that the trademark was registered on September 13, 1985, through the trademark office in the seaside resort town of Nice. The documents described the nature of the business using a mixture of health and astrological terms that even to French novices like us were pretty easy to understand:

  Produits pharmaceutiques, vétérinaires et hygiéniques, substances diététiques à usage médical, aliments pour bébés, e
mplâtres, matériel pour pansements, matières pour plomber les dents et pour empreintes dentaires, désinfectants, produits pour la destruction des animaux nuisibles, fongicides, herbicides. Vêtements, chaussures, chapellerie. Astrologie, parapsychologie, radiésthésie, cartomancie, voyance, futurologie.

  Next to Maria’s name, in the middle of the trademark document, was a French address: L’Estagnol, Les 4 Chemins, 83830 Callas, FR.

  Callas. This was the same tiny town where Wikipedia had told us we would find her. It was where Véronique told us she had met Maria for a reading. The letters even referenced Callas, saying Maria was the leader of the Institute for Parapsychological Research there.

  A number of other trademarks for “Maria Duval” had been issued across the globe in the decades following this first trademark. Maria was listed as the applicant on many of them, and a number also listed attorneys who represented her. We contacted all of these lawyers to see if they could help us get in touch with Maria. None of them claimed to have met her in person, nor had they spoken to her.

  One New York–based, Harvard-educated attorney who represented Maria in 1995 for her first trademark in the United States, for example, said that while he had represented someone by that name, he “never had direct contact with that person” and dealt only with an overseas attorney by airmail. His last communication with this attorney, who he said was a woman named Andrea Egger, was in 2003. “I don’t know whether anyone involved is alive now or how to find them, if alive.”

  This all seemed very suspicious. A trademark filed solely via airmail? His email did little to confirm whether Maria Duval existed and whether she really had been the person applying for a trademark. But it did introduce us for the first time to Andrea Egger, whose name would eventually become almost as familiar to us as Maria’s. We would later determine he was actually a male (not a female) attorney from Switzerland. Months down the road, we would end up in a dark, winding hallway outside his door. But that comes later.