It looked funny. My first thought was "This is fake." There was an edge that was off and there was a line across the top, but it felt like real money paper. I thought the Treasury Department might have made a misprint. I told the clerk, "This looks funny."
She took it back and held it up to the light. "You can see the watermark," she said and handed it back to me. I looked at it, but I didn't see the watermark. It was almost three o'clock in the afternoon. I thought maybe the light was bad or my glasses were dirty. I didn't want to admit that I didn't see it. I remember reading* that the feel and texture of bills are distinctive. All U.S. currency is printed on cotton paper made by the Crane company. This bill felt like a bill, even though I couldn't see the red and blue string flecks in the paper. This bill was a few years old. I thought maybe it had been through the wash a few times. Plus, I couldn't compare it to another $10. All I had in my wallet were twenties from the cash machine.
"I can give you another one," said the postal clerk.
"No," I said. "That's okay." The little voice in my gut that said this bill was funny was quelled by my brain that didn't have any tangible proof.
"Maybe it is worth more than $10," she said.
"Maybe," I said. "That is what I am thinking."
This bill was odd, and curiosity got the better of me. I took the money.
I didn't think about it again until Monday when I had to pay my dog walker. The initial flash that something was wrong with the bill was now screaming louder. I didn't want to pass "funny money" on to her. Over the weekend, I had acquired another $10 bill. At the post office, I didn't have another one to compare it to, but now I did. The other bill had crisp microprinting. The other bill had raised print for the serial number and the "20" in the corner was printed in a fancy ink. I showed it to the Boy and his friends. They were convinced it was fake, and were delighted to be detectives.
"The print is really blurry compared to a real bill," the Boy said.
"And this real bill has a watermark. This other one doesn't," his friend said. I thought maybe the watermark could have gotten washed out over time.
I called my dad. He is a retired accountant and fountain of obscure knowledge. "All bills have a line through them," he said. I held both bills up to a bright light. The real bill had an invisible thin line running down it with the words "USA TEN--USA TEN" that appeared when held up to the light. The fake bill had nothing. Bingo. My hunch was now confirmed.
"It feels like a regular money, though," I said to my dad.
"Sometimes forgers will bleach one dollar bills and then print a larger denomination on it," he said. That explained why the bill felt real even though my alarm bells with otherwise ringing. This one was cut crookedly, though. Why would someone cut it if it was previously a one? It didn't matter. This baby was fake.
 |
| Can you tell which is fake? |
Now what? First, I was glad I didn't pass this fake bill off to my dog walker. That would have been bad. I thought about taking it to the bank--they should be able to tell if it was a fake. I looked online. One website said to call the police, so I did.
"Where did you find the money?" the dispatcher asked.
"At the U.S. Post Office," I said.
"Did you take it back to them?"
"No. I read that I should call the police."
"Oh," she said. I guess counterfeiting is not a busy business these days in the police world. "We can send out an officer or you can come in."
The Boy wanted to go to the police station with me, and Jack went along, too. At first he was annoyed that I took the bill. "You knew it was funny," he said. "Why didn't you get a different one?"
"First, it was only $10. If it had been more, I might have questioned it more at the time," I said. "Second, it seemed different and I was curious. Why was it different? I wanted to know. I guess my need for novelty trumped my need for $10."
I felt better when I went to the station. At first, the officer couldn't tell it was fake until I showed her the regular bill's watermark and line.
"I worked in retail fifteen years ago, and I saw some really bad fake money. This is one of the best fakes I've seen," she said.
"What about this line across the top?" I asked. "Could the Treasury have made a misprint?"
"The Treasury shreds any imperfect money," she said. That made sense. If imperfect money was out there, how could anyone tell the good stuff from the bad?
"What happens next?" I asked.
"I'll turn it over to a detective and they'll turn it over to the FBI or Treasury Department."
My good deed for the day had been accomplished.
* Okay, I didn't read it. I saw it in an episode of Remington Steele when I was a teenager.
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