Michael Smerconish: Rendezvous with Ms. Urbana Legend

NEXT WEEK, our family is visiting London as part of our summer vacation. While my wife is showing the kids Big Ben, I'll be looking for royalty. But I'm not going to Buckingham Palace. Instead, I'm staking out the Western Union office at Lei- cester Square.

Why there? Well, two months ago, I received an e-mail from a female friend with a most distressing story. She said she'd been robbed in the U.K. and asked that I quickly wire her some cash so she could pay her hotel bill and make her flight home. It seems her hotel wouldn't permit the release of even her luggage until she settled her bill.

And now it gets really weird. Last week, I got an e-mail from a different female friend with a remarkably similar message. She, too, had been robbed in England, and like friend No. 1, her hotelier also wouldn't let her check out without paying the bill.

Her e-mail (under a heading of "HELP!!!") said: "I'm writing this with tears in my eyes, my family and I came down here to North Wales, United Kingdom for a short vacation. Unfortunately, we were mugged at the park of the hotel where we stayed, all cash and credit card were stolen off us but luckily for us we still have our passports . . ."

"The hotel manager won't let us leave until we settle the bills. Well I really need your financially assistance. Please, let me know if you can help us out? Am freaked out at the moment!!"

Hey, Brits, it shouldn't take Sherlock Holmes to figure out you have a serial mugger on the loose.

I e-mailed my friend back and asked what I could do. She suggested I wire $1,250 to the Western Union office at Leicester Square.

Unfortunately, I'd never wired money before, and was unfamiliar with how to do so. Desperate to help, I sent another e-mail asking for more specific instruction.

The response: "Thanks for the quick response i will like you head down to the western union and get the money wired to me all you need is my name and present location in seeing the money so that i can pick up the money with my passport just log on to www.westernunion/locator . . . and go get the money wired to me course i have a limited time here, thanks a lot."

Brian Krebs, a cyber-crime

expert (KrebsOnSecurity.com), warned me that my friend might be a victim of identity theft. He said some scammers use software to steal passwords, then sell them on the black market. He told me about a New Yorker whose Hotmail account had been broken into by an extortionist who held the account ransom for $100.

His advice? "Avoid accessing your e-mail on public terminals if possible. Never respond to unsolicited e-mails that ask you to click a link and provide personal or financial information or passwords. And if you see this happening to someone else, contact them immediately."

Sounds prudent. But Mr. Krebs doesn't know my friend, and if he did, he might advise differently.

She's been through so much. One night she and a boyfriend had a terrifying encounter (I think it was at Belmont Plateau) when an escaped one-armed mental patient (perhaps from Byberry) was scratching his hook on the trunk on their car . . .

There was also the time she was leaving the King of Prussia mall (or maybe Deptford) when an old woman told her she needed help getting into her car, only to wind up pulling out a machete.

Speaking of cars, there was the night she narrowly escaped being killed by a gang that was flashing bright lights (I think on I-95) in order to lure drivers into pulling over so they could be robbed and murdered.

Trouble finds her friends, too. She has an acquaintance - it might be cousin - working as a nurse in the emergency room (maybe at Hahnemann) who was on duty the night a local TV personality arrived with a painful looking vermin problem.

So I totally trust her.

ODDLY, when I offered to send the money to a contact at the embassy, my friend in need was suddenly silent. I

haven't heard back, and now I'm even more worried.

Which is why my planned stopover in London is fortuitous. If my acquaintance is still stranded, I can personally head over to Leicester Square and hand her the cash.

Who knows? I might spy a prince.

Not Charles, but rather a Nigerian chap who once promised me $50 million if only I could give him access to my bank account . . .

Listen to Michael Smerconish weekdays 5-9 a.m. on the Big Talker, 1210/AM. Read him Sundays in the Inquirer. Contact him via the Web at www.smerconish.com.