Ronnie Polaneczky: Cyber vigilante brings worldwide heat on thieves who had stolen his stuff

JESSE McPHERSON'S

TV probably is gone for good. But thanks to an avenging band of online vigilantes, he got his stolen Xbox and laptop computer back.

In the process, Philly police learned what can happen when a tech-savvy victim gets tired of waiting for help.

McPherson's saga began March 12 at 3:30 p.m., when burglars broke into the Fishtown home he shares with his girlfriend and a roommate. The roommate was alone that afternoon when she heard male voices in the living room below.

Terrified, she hid in her bedroom with her dog until, she thinks, the animal's barking scared off the intruders.

But not before they'd ripped McPherson's flat-screen TV off the wall and nabbed his Xbox 360 and Apple PowerBook.

Police dusted for fingerprints while McPherson began his own sleuthing. He did a Google search of neighborhood pawn shops, visited the closest one and learned that someone had come in right after the burglary, attempting to sell McPherson's computer.

But "he stole the wrong charger with it, so they wouldn't buy it from him," says McPherson, 26, an engineer at Comcast Interactive Media. "What a moron!"

A few days later, Comcast co-workers surprised McPherson with a new Xbox. When he logged on to its Internet connection, he was immediately contacted several times, via the unit's instant voice-message system, by a guy who identified himself as the thief who'd taken the original Xbox. He wanted McPherson to buy it back from him.

"I was shocked," says McPherson.

During the days following the break-in, McPherson had reached out to police with what clues he could gather. He called when he obtained a digital photo of the guy with his laptop from the pawn shop's surveillance system, but he couldn't get cops to call him back.

And he called again on the Saturday that he got those voice messages on his Xbox. Frantic, he asked a detective what to do.

He says he was told to call back on Monday.

When he protested that the admitted thief was harassing him now, he says, the detective hung up on him.

Frustrated, he posted his tale of woe, along with the digital photo and one of the Xbox voice messages, on a blog post that he submitted to www.digg.com, a site where users submit and promote their favorite Web content.

Within hours, the post sparked reaction from people around the world, who formed their own investigatory team to solve McPherson's case.

Using the Xbox profile of the person who had contacted McPherson in that creepy voice message, they then used an array of technologies to uncover much more info about the guy.

Like his Photobucket account. His YouTube profile (and his God-awful rap-music performance). And, finally, his name, address and phone number (which I won't reveal here, as the kid is under 18).

And that's when mob justice took over, as McPherson's supporters flooded the kid's online accounts with heckling comments and called his house nonstop, demanding the return of McPherson's stuff.

One avenger, from England, even posted a recording on YouTube of a phone call he had with the kid's furious mom, who was adamant her son wasn't a thief but had bought the Xbox from a neighborhood crack-head. Another, a reporter from New Zealand, gave McPherson's story major headline treatment.

Eventually, the kid himself contacted McPherson, begging him to call off the vigilantes, saying he hadn't broken into McPherson's house but only bragged that he had, "to be a smart-ass."

He returned the Xbox.

A second guy - turns out he's the one in the pawn-shop photo - returned McPherson's computer.

I called police to ask why they'd seemed so blase about the information that McPherson says he tried to share with them.

I didn't get a response - and, to be fair, maybe they don't see a burglary as a serious matter when no bodily harm results.

Detectives did pay McPherson another visit last week, after he told them the Daily News was working on a story.

A day later, he says, they told him they'd gotten a hit off the fingerprints they'd collected the day of the break-in.

And yesterday, a police spokeswoman told me, arrest warrants were being prepared for two suspects.

"The detectives were great, once they got into the case," says McPherson. "But I don't think it's a coincidence that they only got into it after they knew the media was into it."

And I'm glad that so many strangers rallied behind McPherson. But, I'll be honest with you - his story chills me.

Vigilante justice can be chaotic and uncontrollable, whether it's conducted online or face-to-face.

McPherson himself says that he was astounded at how his story took on a life of its own.

How badly might it have ended if the online community's nasty calls, e-mails and posts had been met with a violent response, instead of a chastened one?

On the other hand, what have we come to when a home invasion elicits what comes across as a shrug from police, instead of urgent action? And should we expect anything less than vigilante action as frustrated victims become technologically savvy enough to take justice into their own hands?

"I felt vindicated when my blog got such a big response," says McPherson. "I was like, 'Finally, people other than me think this is serious.' It was great that so many people had my back."

If only he hadn't needed them. *

E-mail polaner@phillynews.com or call 215-854-2217. For recent columns:

http://go.philly.com/polaneczky