Criminal’s Story #9 – James Mastrogiovanni

Crime Type: Elder Abuse Fraud & Tax Fraud

Crime Country: USA

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This is a true crime story from the actual criminal’s story as obtained from official and media sources, enhanced and fictionalized for clarity by the SCARS Institute Editorial Team. We utilized the SCARS Institute’s AI ‘Jane’ to dive deeper and delve into the minds of these criminals, scammers, and fraudsters, crafting their real stories to reveal their potential motivations and methods. Understanding these perpetrators helps us combat and disrupt crime/scams/fraud more effectively, empowering us with the insights needed to protect others. No assertion is made about the guilt or innocence of the individual(s) depicted in this story other than what was published previously.

WARNING: THIS SCAMMER’S OR CRIMINAL’S STORY MAY BE TRIGGERING TO SOME PEOPLE. DISCRETION IS ADVISED.

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A Criminal’s Story

The Easy Money

I’m James Mastrogiovanni, and I’ve always been good at spotting opportunities. Growing up in Gloucester County, I learned early that you’ve got to hustle to get ahead. By 2023, I was 44, working at a car dealership, making decent money but never enough to feel secure. Bills piled up, and I wanted more—nice clothes, a better car, maybe a vacation somewhere warm. That’s when I saw the cracks in the system, the ways to make cash without anyone noticing, at least for a while.

It started with the tax thing. The COVID-19 pandemic left everyone scrambling, and the IRS was handing out credits like candy to businesses hit hard. Employee Retention Credits, they called them. All you needed was a business, some paperwork, and a story about how the virus tanked your profits. I wasn’t some tax genius, but I met this guy, Haynes, who knew the game. He was already filing returns for clients, claiming millions in credits they didn’t deserve. He showed me how to set up shell companies—empty businesses with no real employees or operations. You file a Form 941, say you paid wages you never did, and claim the credits. The IRS was so backed up, they’d send checks or wire money before anyone checked the math.

I set up a couple of these companies, just names on paper. Filed the returns through Haynes, claiming over $1.4 million in credits. The money started rolling in—hundreds of thousands at a time. I’d move it quick, from one account to another, sometimes through Haynes’ accounts to make it look legit. Money laundering, they’d call it later, but to me, it was just covering tracks. I wasn’t greedy about it; I spent what I needed. A new watch, some upgrades for my place, dinners out. It felt like I’d cracked a code. Why work overtime when you could work the system? The IRS wasn’t going to miss a few million in the chaos of the pandemic. I told myself I was just taking what was there for the taking.

Then there was the dealership. I worked in sales, charming customers, closing deals. Most of them were fine, but the older ones—they were different. They trusted you, didn’t ask too many questions. In June 2023, this 85-year-old guy came in to buy a car. Nice guy, lonely, talked about his late wife. He handed me a check for the down payment, and I saw the account details—routing number, account number, all right there. Something clicked. I’d seen how easy it was to move money with the tax scheme. Why not try it here?

I held onto the check, didn’t process it right away. Later, I used those numbers to make ACH transfers—electronic withdrawals from his account to mine. Small amounts at first, a few hundred bucks, to see if he’d notice. He didn’t. So I got bolder—$5,000, $10,000, $20,000. By December, I’d pulled over $180,000. The guy’s account was drained, but he didn’t call the dealership, didn’t raise a stink. Maybe he was too embarrassed, or maybe he didn’t check his statements. Either way, it was like he was begging to be taken advantage of. I wasn’t hurting him, not really. He had enough to buy a car, so he had to have more, right? I needed it more than he did.

Why did I do it? It wasn’t just the money, though that was part of it. It was the rush, the feeling of being smarter than everyone else. The IRS, with all its auditors, couldn’t catch me. This old guy, with his life savings, didn’t see it coming. I was in control, pulling strings, making things happen. I knew it couldn’t last forever—someone would notice eventually—but I figured I’d deal with that when it came. I wasn’t a bad guy, just practical. The world’s a tough place, and you take what you can get.

It unraveled fast. The IRS started sniffing around Haynes’ operation, and my name came up. The dealership got a call from the old guy’s family, asking about the car he never got. By May 2025, I was in court, pleading guilty to conspiracy to defraud the United States, mail fraud, money laundering, and access device fraud. They said I could face years in prison, fines up to $250,000 per count. My lawyer, Frank Agostino, told me to take the deal, so I did. Sitting there, listening to the judge, I didn’t feel regret, just frustration. I’d been so close to getting away with it.

Looking back, I don’t think I was wrong to try. The system’s built to be gamed—tax codes, bank accounts, all of it. I just saw the holes and stepped through them. The old guy was a mark, sure, but he wasn’t my family, my responsibility. My mistake was trusting Haynes and not covering my tracks better. Next time, I’d be smarter. If there is a next time.

Source:  https://www.justice.gov/usao-nj/pr/gloucester-county-man-pleads-guilty-tax-fraud-scheme-and-theft-elderly-victims-bank

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SCARS Institute Notes:

Legal Disclaimer: The above narrative represents an interpretation and extrapolation based on all available information about the case. Achieving 100% factual accuracy remains impossible due to the inclusion of supposition and fictionalization to create a complete story and monologue. We aim to present a coherent account of the criminal’s perspective solely for entertainment purposes. We derive no income from this endeavor, offering it purely in the public interest. The criminal did not participate in this process.

Fictionalized True Crime Disclaimer: This story offers a dramatized account inspired by real events, crafted to explore the criminal’s perspective for entertainment purposes. We base the narrative on publicly available information, supplemented with fictional elements to create a cohesive storyline, and do not claim complete factual accuracy. The characters, dialogue, and specific motivations reflect artistic interpretation and do not represent the actual thoughts or actions of the individuals involved. We intend this work to raise awareness about the dangers of financial fraud, and we derive no profit from its publication, presenting it solely in the public interest. The depicted individuals did not contribute to or endorse this narrative.