Ghost in the Wires_ My Adventures as the World's Most Wanted Hacker - Kevin Mitnick [109]
The DMV lady found a few matches, but only one fit my criteria. The Eric Weiss I chose was born in 1968, making him about five years younger than I was.
Why “Eric Weiss”? That was the real name (though a number of sources also spell it “Erich Weiss” or “Erik Weisz”) of the man the world knows better as Harry Houdini. Picking it was a bit of hero worship on my part, a holdover from my early fascination with magic. As long as I was changing my name, why not pay homage to my childhood idol?
I called directory assistance and found that “my” Eric Weiss had a listed number. I called, he answered, and I asked, “Are you the same Eric Weiss who went to PSU?”
He said, “No, I graduated from Ellensburg.”
The Eric Weiss whose identity I would use had a degree in Business Administration from Central Washington University, in the town of Ellensburg. So that was what I would list on my résumé.
My letter to the Oregon Bureau of Vital Statistics was entirely routine. It purported to come from the real Eric Weiss, listed his real place and date of birth, father’s name and mother’s maiden name (helpfully provided, as usual, by Ann at the Social Security Administration), and requested “a copy of my birth certificate.” I paid extra to have it expedited. For my return address, I used another of those mailbox rental outlets.
For the second piece of identification I would need when applying for a driver’s license, I planned to dummy up a W-2 form, which would require me to supply the Employer Identification Number (EIN) of the W-2 issuer. It’s a simple matter to find that number for almost any company you pick at random. I called Accounts Receivable at Microsoft and asked for its EIN “so we can submit our payment.” The lady on the other end of the line gave it to me without even asking what company I was calling from.
Every stationery store carries blank tax forms; you just doctor up a phony W-2, and you’re all set.
My immediate aim was getting that all-important driver’s license, but I couldn’t move ahead with that until “my” new birth certificate arrived. It was tense for me during that time: without a driver’s license or an ID card, even being stopped for jaywalking might have been disastrous.
One hitch: I would need a car to take my test in. A car I borrowed from my mother or Gram? Hardly. If you’re setting up a new identity, you sure don’t want to leave a trail of easy-to-follow clues that will make life simple for some snoopy cop or Fed later on. Have a friend or family member rent a car for you to use long enough to take the driving test? No way—too easy for an investigator to find out what car you used for the test, and start asking the person who did you that favor some difficult questions.
Here’s the solution I came up with. First you go to the DMV and apply for a learner’s permit; you don’t actually need one, but for some reason the DMV people find it less suspicious for an adult to have one before getting his or her first license. I’ve never been sure why. But useful for me: most people trying to obtain fraudulent identities don’t go for a learner’s permit first, so it’s less suspicious.
Then you call up a driving school and say you’re just back from Australia, or South Africa, or England. You used to have a U.S. driver’s license, you explain, but now that you’ve been driving on the other side of the road for a while, you need a refresher to make sure you’re comfortable back on the right side before you take your driver’s test. After a couple of “lessons,” the instructor will tell you you’re ready, and the school will lend you a car to take your test in.
This was what I did, anyway, more than once, and it always worked. With my new license in hand, I took myself over to the Social