The Sick-Day Bounty Hunters
As an alarming number of workers play hooky, corporations are clamping
down—and calling in the detectives
Rick Raymond parked his black Kia SUV behind a row of trees and peered out at
his target. It was 4 a.m. on a recent morning, and Raymond—a seasoned private
detective who has worked roughly 300 cases, from thieves to philandering
spouses—was closing in on a different sort of prey. Recently, Raymond has come
to occupy a new and expanding niche in the surveillance universe. Corporations
pay him to spy on workers who take "sick days" when they may not, in fact, be
sick. Such suspicion has led Raymond to bowling alleys, pro football games,
weddings, and even funerals. On this morning it has taken him to a field outside
the home of an Orlando repairman whose employer is doubtful about his slow
recovery from a car accident. Although Raymond tries to be impartial about his
subjects, "80 to 85 percent of the time," he says, "there's definitely fraud
happening."
Playing hooky without getting caught—as immortalized in the cat-and-mouse
skirmish between Ferris Bueller and Principal Rooney in Ferris Bueller's
Day Off—used to be an adolescent rite of passage. Now it has given rise
to a thriving industry, with stern legal precedent to back it up. In 2008,
Raybestos Products, a car parts manufacturer in Crawfordsville, Ind., hired an
off-duty police officer to track an employee suspected of abusing her paid
medical leave. When the employee, Diana Vail, was fired after the cop produced
substantial evidence that she was exploiting her benefits, she sued Raybestos.
In what became the landmark case for corporate snooping, the 7th U.S. Circuit
Court of Appeals dismissed her lawsuit. A panel of judges declared that while
surveillance "may not be preferred employer behavior," it wasn't unlawful.
According to Susan W. Kline, a partner at the Baker & Daniels law firm in
Indianapolis, the case "encouraged [companies] to consider hiring their own
private detectives." It also set a precedent, she says, that "reasonable
suspicion" is sufficient justification for employer spying.
Such techniques have become permissible at a time when workers are more
likely to play hooky. Kronos, a workforce productivity firm in Chelmsford,
Mass., recently found that 57 percent of U.S. salaried employees take sick days
when they're not really sick—a nearly 20 percent increase from statistics
gathered between 2006 and 2008. Taking such risks amid an economic meltdown,
suggests Kronos Senior Director Joyce Maroney, has less to do with foolish
confidence than a general lack of enthusiasm for work. "People are staying in
jobs they don't like because of a fear that there won't be another job out
there," she says. "With less job satisfaction, there's a greater propensity for
sick-time abuse."
That's great news for the corporate surveillance business. Alliance Worldwide
Investigative Group, a private investigation firm in Clifton Park, N.Y., with
experience in corporate sleuthing, charges $75 per hour per investigator. And
those hours add up. According to Alliance Chief Executive Officer and founder
Mario Pecoraro Jr., successful surveillance requires establishing a pattern of
activity that, he says, "can sometimes require multiple days, or even weeks."
Perhaps this is because workers have become increasingly inventive with their
sick-day tomfoolery. This summer, Middletown (Pa.) schoolteacher Leslie
Herneisey—a three-time Teacher of the Year nominee—was arrested and charged with
lying to colleagues about having an inoperable brain tumor so she could take
extended sick leave. In 2009 four firefighters in Haverhill, Mass., were
suspended after a private investigator, hired by the mayor, caught them
attending hockey games and engaging in other blatantly non-sick-day activities.
They are not alone in their ambition. Earlier this year, Raymond investigated
an employee at a Florida health organization who called in sick with the flu for
three days. As Raymond discovered, she was actually visiting the Universal
Studios theme park. "On some of those roller coasters, they take your picture at
a really sharp turn, and then you can buy it at a kiosk," Raymond recalls. "She
went on three rides, and I bought all three of her pictures, which had the date
at the bottom." When confronted with the evidence by her employers, Raymond says
her first response was, "That's not me!" After they played Raymond's video of
her volunteering at the theme park's animal show, her only defense was, "I don't
even remember that!" She was fired.
While some employees may be less engaged in their jobs, many are increasingly
interested in new and creative ways to get out of work. "It's all about
technology these days," says Frank M. Ahearn, a New York-based equal opportunity
"privacy consultant" who has helped employers "catch people who were supposed to
be at work" and advised others on eluding their bosses. "If you understand how
to use technology effectively, you can appear to be anywhere," he says. Ahearn
once had a client who issued each of his employees a cellphone with a GPS
tracking system. "He thought it was foolproof," Ahearn says. That was until the
boss learned one employee had FedExed (FDX)
his phone to a hotel where he was supposed to be staying on a business trip.
Instead, the worker opted for an exotic vacation. "It's a duel between bosses
and their employees," Ahearn says. "Whoever has better technology usually wins."
One popular toy among the adult Ferris Bueller set is the SpoofCard. Sold on
the Internet by Toms River (N.J.)-based TelTech Systems, a SpoofCard allows
users to select any 10-digit number to appear on the phone of the person they're
calling. When their customer calls in sick, the boss will see this number on the
caller ID and assume the employee is at home in bed when he may actually be on
line at the Matterhorn, or on the beach in Hawaii. Meir Cohen, president of
TelTech Systems, insists SpoofCards don't pose any ethical dilemma. "We've had
people misuse the technology occasionally for illegal purposes," he says, "but
the majority of people use it to protect their privacy. If you have a boss
that's prying into your personal life, this is a great tool."
Cohen also offers a chance to offset the SpoofCard with a new TelTech
product, LiarCard, which uses voice analysis to determine if a caller is being
dishonest. "We have companies that use the LiarCard for HR purposes," he says,
"to find out if their employees are lying to them." Cohen doesn't mind selling a
service to one customer that's designed to entrap another. "We want to help
everyone," he says.
Cohen may have a point—sometimes even corporate surveillance experts need
watching. When he was working as a training director for a large detective firm,
Rick Raymond once sent a rookie investigator and a seasoned veteran out on a
routine job. Instead, the two opted to get drunk and watch football at a nearby
Outback Steakhouse. Later that day, a secretary from Raymond's firm went to
lunch at the same Outback and witnessed both detectives drinking beers and
eating cheese fries. "They were there before she showed up," he says, "and they
were still there, watching football and drinking beer, two hours later." When
the pair submitted their surveillance logs for the week, both failed to mention
their afternoon-long repast. Both were immediately fired.
As the sun rises over Orlando, Raymond's still sitting in his SUV, watching
his repairman. He's now come to appreciate the employer-employee relationship.
"I remember one worker who created an elaborate hoax to go on a cruise when he
was supposed to be sick," Raymond says. "When he was shown the video
surveillance I'd done, he actually said to his boss, 'I can't believe you'd be
so sneaky.' The hypocrisy is amazing!" And it's great for business.
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