Scamfluencers - Brooklyn’s Bling Bishop

Episode Date: August 7, 2023

In 2006, Lamor Whitehead gets arrested while wearing a mink coat, prompting the New York post to dub him a “high roller.” But after a stint in prison, Lamor reinvents himself as a man of God. He starts his own for-profit ministry called Leaders of Tomorrow and befriends some very influential people, including New York politician Eric Adams. But Lamor never lets go of his flashy lifestyle. After he gets robbed while wearing expensive jewelry, his community begins to wonder: How does the pastor of a tiny church afford all of this luxury?See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Hey, prime members, you can listen to scam influencers ad-free on Amazon music. Download the app today. Heads up to our listeners. Early in this episode, there's a graphic description of police violence and murder. Please listen with care. What do you want to do? Sarah. Do you have a preferred sin? No, I... that is a crazy question. Sarah, do you have a preferred sin? No, I, that is a crazy question.

But like, would you say you're like a glutton girlie or like a lustful lady? This is the worst thing you've ever asked me when starting an episode. I wanna go on the record saying that and I'm not answering. Well, as usual, I'm asking because today I have a story of someone who engaged in a few too many of the deadly sins,

even while he claimed to be spreading the word of God. It's a sweltering Sunday morning in July 2022 in the East Brooklyn neighborhood of Kinarse. In a small room above a Haitian restaurant, a man stands at a gold podium on a stage. He's dressed in a crimson suit with gold embroidery, gold cuffs, and a long, thick gold chain. He's holding a mic in one hand,

his pinky adorned with a big ornate ring. His name is Bishop Lomore Whitehead, and this is his church service. There are only a few people in the crowd, but lots of congregants tuned into the live stream. Sarah, take a look at this screenshot of his service. He looks pretty fancy to me, like he looks like a, yeah, a stylish, religious figure,

which can only mean good things. Only the best religious figures are this well dressed. Well, Lamorglance is downed as iPad, propped up on the podium, and he reads from his sermon. The live stream captures what happens next. How many of you have lost your faith because you saw somebody What's you about to go through? Yep. Yep. All right, right, right. All right, right. You all right? All right. Three men wearing ski masks and carrying guns have entered the building.

Lamor puts his hands up and lies face down on the floor while the assailants take his jewelry and go through his pockets. In total, they steal an estimated $1 million dollars worth of jewelry from Lamor and his wife who's sitting in the crowd. Lamor's livestream catches everything and the robbery quickly goes viral. Here's Lamor describing the event on an Instagram live later that same day. They took my watch, took my jury, took my bishops ring, took my wedding band, and then they took

my bishops cross. And then I had my other chains underneath my shirt. He ripped my collar off just to get to my jury. Okay, I do remember this kind of going viral. I don't remember the video, but I do remember seeing that a bishop was robbed on a live stream. Now that you mention it. Yeah. But something tells me, all is not what it seems.

Well, the live video of a pastor being robbed in the middle of a church service is horrifying, but it also raises a lot of questions. As people start to dig into his social media, they discover that in addition to the millions of dollars worth of jewelry, Lamora also drives a Rolls Royce and owns several Fendi suits. So everyone wants to know, how does the pastor of a tiny church afford all of this stuff?

And when they uncover the answer, well, let's just say it's not prayer financing his lifestyle. Black perspectives haven't always been centered in the telling of America's story. Now, we're taking center stage. Introducing NPR's Black Stories Black Truths, a collection of Black-led stories from NPR's podcasts. Search NPR Black Stories Black Truths, wherever you get your podcasts. Every big moment starts out with a big dream. But what happens when that big dream turns out to be an even bigger failure? Each week on Wondery's new podcast, The Big Flop,

post Misha Brown is joined by comedians to chronicle some of the biggest blenders in pop culture history. Listen to the big flop on the Wendry app or wherever you get your podcasts. From Wendry, I'm Sachi Cole, and I'm Sarah Haggi. And this is Scam Flensers. We've talked about scammers who use religion to con their victims, but Lamor is our first full-fledged man of the cloth. He's charismatic, charming, and has a taste for the finer things in life, including head-to-toe, fendi-bucci for satchi. But, he doesn't just use his powers of persuasion to manipulate girlfriends, roommates,

and his own congregants. He also has friends in very high places. And I'm not talking about Jesus. Lamor has his own personal higher power, New York City mayor, Eric Adams. I'm calling this Brooklyn's Bling Bishop. Before Lamor White had ever set foot in a pair of Gucci slides, he's a kid growing up in Crown Heights, Brooklyn. He's just six weeks old when his neighborhood becomes the center of unrest.

It's June 1978. A 30-year-old Bohemian immigrant named Arthur Miller is in the street, trying to settle a dispute between the cops and his younger brother. Arthur is married with four kids, and he's a beloved community organizer. He's even on a first-name basis with some of the cops, but in the midst of their confrontation, 16 police officers swarm him. One of them sees a gun in Arthur's waistband, and Arthur explains that it's legally owned and registered, but the cop tackles him and puts him in a chokehold. I wouldn't necessarily say Arthur passes out. He's transported to the hospital, but he's dead by

the time they arrive. The murder sparks outrage across New York City. His family leader says that about 3,000 people gather to protest Arthur's death. Arthur's wife and four children publicly mourn him, but according to Lamore, Arthur had a secret fifth child. There's no hard-proof verifying this claim, but Lamore says that his mother was Arthur's mistress. Lamore grows up with his mom and two siblings, bouncing around Brooklyn. The family is poor, and later he's fond of saying that when he wanted night keys, he had to wear Olympians. We don't know much about his early life, but he makes a number of really fabulous claims about his youth.

Like, he tells New York Magazine that he was one of the first ever models for Fubu when he was in high school. Sarah, do you remember Fubu? Sachi, Fubu stands for For Us By Us. Who is the Us in question? Of course I remember Fubu. Well, Sarah, listen, nothing would make you sound cooler in the late 90s than saying, I was a Fubu model except maybe like,

I was in a puffed-dassy video, you know? Yeah, true. Well, around the time Lamora is in high school or shortly after, he reaches out to a woman named Lollisa Miller Bradford. Lalisa is one of Arthur's children. She's in her 20s now and she was just 8 years old when Arthur died. And Lamor has some bombshell news for Lalisa.

He tells her that he is her half sibling. She's never even heard of Lamor before and now he's telling her they have the same dad. It's a lot to take in. But Lamor isn't just calling to reconnect with the person he claims is his family. He seemingly has another motive. Years later, Lalisa described what happened next on a gift and a curse podcast.

He called and he told me who he was and he said that he was my brother. I told him you're not my brother." In that same interview, Lalisa recalls that Lamor asked about money the family received in connection with Arthur Miller's death. It was always a rumor that we got $10 million in stock. I have no idea when that room was started.

I would have gotten $10 million. But then he said been never happy. The money might have been just a rumor, but Lamor has needs. He tells Lalisa that he needs a Toyota Camry. Lalisa is totally thrown off guard, and she's suspicious. So she's like, hey, brother, I've never heard of. Do you want to take a DNA test? She actually offers to fly him down to Florida where she and her siblings live.

But Lamor hangs up on her. If Lollisa isn't going to give him what he needs, you'll have to find someone who will, whether she knows it or not. It's April 2004, a 22-year-old woman named Valerie is walking down the street in Manhattan when a guy callers at her. His name is Lamor Whitehead and he tells Valerie that he's a model, actor, and a rocker. Plus, he's kind of cute, so she goes out with him and they start dating. After about five months, Valerie gets a new job as a finance associate at a Honda dealership on Long Island. It sounds boring, but Lamor is

really interested. One day, when Valerie is working from home, Lamor asks her tons of questions about her job. Valerie tells him that she's checking on the status of loan applications from potential customers. This involves logging into a software program and reviewing their personal information, including their names, social security numbers, and credit scores. A few months later, Moumore asks her for the names of some clients with good credit scores. He says he wants to pass them on to a friend who works in mortgages, and so she gives him a handful of names. Wow, sometimes it's just that easy.

And to think someone who's that willing to give away that information has the information, whoo, makes you a little bit scared. I know, but also Sarah, here's where it gets even better. She kept the username and the password for the system with everyone's sensitive information written on a pad of paper right next to her computer. Valerie is really young, but it doesn't take her long to wise up. She and Lamor break up just a few months later, and she probably feels like she's dodged a bullet. Because in January 2006, Lamor is arrested while driving a land rover down Riverside

Drive in Manhattan. Lamor is dressed so outrageously, and his charges are so extreme that his arrest actually makes the New York post. They call him a high roller and describe him as being dressed in a quote, Pym style red and white waist length mink jacket. The car and the coat were paid for with about a quarter of a million dollars in loans he took out using the information he stole from Valerie's clients. He's charged with 10 counts of identity theft. He's also charged with unlawful possession of personal information and grand

larceny. But something as minor as getting caught isn't going to stop Lamor from defrauding people. He has a lifestyle to maintain. While awaiting trial, Lamor starts a mortgage brokerage company called anointing management services, and he claims that he's been ordained as a minister and starts showing up to court wearing clerical collars. Lamor has offered a plea deal with a one-year jail sentence. He's so confident that he decides to go to trial instead, but is planned backfires.

He's convicted on 17 counts of identity theft, grand larceny, and other crimes. On the day of the sentencing, he tells the district attorney, quote, I don't fear you, I fear God. I mean, you should probably fear both at this point. You can be afraid of two things at once. Yeah, you don't have to pick one or the other, dude. Well, even though Lamore asks for mercy, the judge doesn't think Lamor has any remorse or shame, just anger and resentment. He sentences Lamor to 10 to 30 years in prison. And then, while he's in prison,

he gets sued for swindling a mortgage client. The court orders him to fork over more than $300,000. Lamor's sudden transformation into a man of God isn't enough to keep him out of jail, or out of more legal trouble. But it does set the stage for the next phase of his life and opens him up to a whole new lane of scamming. Lamora's released in July 2013

after serving just five years of his sentence. On his website, he claims that he was released because his sentence was overturned, but there's no evidence that this was the case. After leaving prison, Lamora starts renting a room in his friends' apartment. Her name is Aurora Gordon, and she's in her mid-40s with hazel eyes and a warm smile. She lives in affordable housing in Fort Green, Brooklyn. Aurora is interested in helping survivors of domestic violence, and she thinks Lamora can help her get her organization off the ground.

In exchange, she agrees to help Lamora found a ministry called Leaders of Tomorrow, Brooklyn. It's a for-profit youth outreach ministry, though in public statements, Lamora tries to make it sound like a non-profit. That is weird. A for-profit youth outreach ministry. If that was a good thing, I don't think Lamor would try and make it sound like it's a non-profit.

Yeah, it's very strange. And it also claims to offer a bunch of programs and services and like a ton of initiatives. On his website, Lamor lists an NYPD initiative, a media initiative, a catering initiative, and a record of initiatives. On his website, Lamor lists an NYPD initiative, a media initiative, a catering initiative, and a record label initiative. Just a lot of initiatives. With Aurora's help, Lamor scales up leaders of tomorrow

and turns it into a church. They host an initial meeting with about 40 people. They read the Bible, and they talk about whatever it is you talk about when some of you genuinely love the Lord Lord and one of you genuinely loves flusing people. Lamor now has a powerful cover for his future activities, and now with the congregation following him, he has access to a flock of possible victims. Almost immediately after his release from prison, Lamor has somehow linked up with a rising star in New York politics. immediately after his release from prison, Lamor somehow links up with a rising star

in New York politics. Eric Adams. Yeah, that Eric Adams. No, yeah. The bald headed, smiley, confident man who will eventually become New York City's mayor. At this point though, he's still a New York State Senator. We don't know exactly how Lamor and Eric meet,

but the two have a lot in common. They're both black and they both grew up in New York State Senator. We don't know exactly how Lamor and Eric meet, but the two have a lot in common. They're both black and they both grew up in New York City. They both put stories of police brutality at the center of their personal narratives. Eric says that while he was in a gang in his youth, he and his brother were badly beaten by a group of cops. And they both claimed to have been chosen by God as leaders in their communities.

Lamor and his new BFF Eric start appearing in all kinds of public events together. Lamor calls Eric his mentor, and there's footage of them on YouTube at a leaders of tomorrow event at Boys and Girls School in Bedstuy. Lamor speaks first, followed by Eric. For a brother to a brother, you're the epitome of a black man.

Brothers are going to root for them. Right. Right. Thank you, Eric Man. Ladies and gentlemen, be going to the top. Thank you. About two months later, in January 2014, Eric Adams is sworn into a new office, Brooklyn Burrow President. It's more of a ceremonial role without much real power.

It's kind of like a glorified ribbon cutter. But it comes with a fair amount of visibility, and Eric is very open about his ultimate goal to become mayor of New York City. About six months later, Eric and LeMore bring their shared backgrounds and interests full circle. Eric hosts a ceremony to honor Arthur Miller, who LeMore claims as his father.

At the event, Eric presents a proclamation to LeMore and his mom. Only he didn't reach out to Arthur Miller's widow or children. They weren't involved at all. Lalisa, Arthur's daughter, later says that she found out about the event from family members who saw a news footage of it. And she is pissed. She reportedly calls the news station to complain. And then she says that Lamora calls her, live it, and yells at her. Lalisa believes the news station gave Lamora her number, so she threatens legal action. But then, minutes later, she gets another phone call, from a man who identifies himself as Eric

Adams. Eric says Arthur Miller was a good man, and he wants to help Lalisa in her effort to start a foundation in her father's name. But Lalisa and her family never hear from him again. In the summer of 2014, not long after the ceremony to honor Arthur Miller, Eric is facing some backlash. As Berklin-Burrow president, he's proposed rezoning an area in your prospect park so that developers can build high-rise condos, and the neighborhood is not having it. Alicia Boyd, a 50-something-year-old black woman with a full-grang afro, is leading the opposition to the measure. She thinks that high-rise condos will jack up rents and accelerate gentrification. So she holds a meeting at her house to discuss the issue and guess who shows up?

Lamor. But he isn't there to support Alicia, he's there to defend his buddy Eric. He shows up with about 10 other people and they disrupt the meeting by screaming at the top of their lungs. Lamor accuses Alicia of being anti-black and trying to thwart the agenda of Brooklyn's first black borough president, even though she herself is a black woman and she's just holding a meeting at her house. Over the next few months, Lamora and Eric continue to have each other's backs.

In the fall of 2014, Lamora gets the go-ahead to put on an all-star gospel concert at the Barclays Center in Brooklyn, featuring special guest, Eric Adams. Lomor raises $150,000 for the concert, which will benefit leaders of tomorrow, Brooklyn. But not only is he vague about where the money came from, he has no idea how to plan such a huge event. Things quickly fall apart and Barclays cancels the concert. Of course, Lomor later tells the New Yorker that it was his idea to cancel,

and it is unclear if he gives back the $150,000. This fiasco is a tipping point. Some of Lamor's supporters and associates start to lose faith in him, but that doesn't stop him from plowing ahead at full speed. I feel like a... A lot of people are getting fed up with Lamor, including his roommate Aurora. It's been about a year since she helped him found leaders of tomorrow. In exchange for her support, she asked for his help with her organization, battered to

beautiful, which advocates for his help with her organization, battered to beautiful, which advocates for survivors of domestic violence. Lamora has been telling Aurora that Eric would help her get city funding, but no money or any type of contract ever materializes. So Aurora cuts ties with Lamora. In a November 2014 email obtained by the New Yorker, she tells him that his bad attitude and rush to have money were the reasons that the gospel event at the Barclay Center fell through.

And, she kicks Lamor out of her apartment. Lamor turns around and files a suit against her for wrongful eviction, which alerts the housing authority that Aurora has been illegally renting out a room in her apartment, and this potentially jeopardizes her housing. She reaches out to Eric personally to ask him why Lamor can't act right, and Eric says that he doesn't want to get involved. She writes the DA's office as well, and they open an investigation into Lamor. It's so crazy to me that every time you say, Eric, you're speaking about the current mayor

of New York City who's involved with this guy and this weird petty drama. I know, I know, it's pitiful. At the beginning of the month, Lamor and Eric appear at a ribbon cutting for a new restaurant in Brooklyn, and the restaurant is owned by twin brothers who pled guilty to insurance fraud just a few months earlier. Lamor even writes a letter in defense of one of the brothers, claiming that the twins were instrumental to leaders

of tomorrow's nutrition and cooking initiative, which is titled, Cooking Initiative. They love their initiatives. But there are, like, some consequences. Because later that month, the Brooklyn DA sends Lomore a cease-and-decyst letter. Lomore's organization, Leaders of Tomorrow, has been posting about its civic programs with the NYPD, Brooklyn Chamber of Commerce, and the Brooklyn District Attorney's Office itself.

These programs that he's been bragging about are completely bogus, and the D.A. is calling out Lamora's lies, but they're doing it privately. The broader public has no idea that he's been making this stuff up, which gives Lamore even more room to do what he does. Get famous and get rich. Lamore starts to focus on raising his profile in New York City and gaining a following on social media. He appears at events with a who's who of local celebrities

like Al Sharpton, former Nick's forward Charles Oakley, Bismarkey, and Jerry Seinfeld. 50 cent even speaks at his church service one day. Lamor preaches the prosperity gospel, which means he believes that wealth is a sign of God's favor. And Lamor has a lot of signs of God's favor. There are designer clothes and Rolex watches and fancy cars.

He buys a royal blue Bentley and posts a video of him trying to hit 130 miles per hour in a Maserati on the freeway. And by the way, remember the mortgage client Lamores Swindle who sued him back when he was in prison, the one who's owed $300,000? Lamores still has not paid him. Sarah, you might be wondering, where did he get this money from? Well, Lamora's teaching real estate classes at church

and asking for what he calls love offerings, also known as donations, and when they sign up for the class, he collects people's names, email addresses, and their social security numbers. He's also put his own spin on the offering portion of church. So typically a collection plate is passed around and church goers give what they can.

But not the bishop. He runs it like a reverse auction, starting at ridiculous amounts like $1,000 or $500 and working his way down. He calls it sewing. As in, if they give now, they will read. It's like a spiritual Ponzi scheme, basically. Yes.

That is right. You have cracked it, Sarah. Well, despite Lamora's flashy lifestyle, leaders of tomorrow still hold services in a single room above a Haitian restaurant deep in Knarse. But Lamora and leaders of tomorrow have Eric Adams' support. And sometimes, this shows up in surprising ways.

In July 2016, Eric Adams declares a leaders of tomorrow day in Brooklyn. It's July 31st, by the way, in case you want to celebrate. But with more visibility comes more scrutiny. And in October, the New York Post breaks the story about the fake leaders of tomorrow programs. They also note that Lamor relied on his connection with Eric to raise money and that he continues driving luxury cars even while he still owes hundreds of thousands of dollars to the mortgage client he swindled. When Eric has asked about the news a month later, he makes his support for Lamor clear.

I was arrested at 15 years old, and because people embraced me when I was arrested, I embraced Lamor Whitehead. Lamor wants to return that embrace, and he wants to have his own source of political power. And soon enough, he'll be ready to follow in his mentor's footsteps and run for office. But that means he'll need something Eric can't give him. A lot of money.

It's November 2020. For the past year and a half, Lamor has been running to replace Eric as Brooklyn Borough president. Eric is getting ready to finally make a run at the mayor's office. And there's also a pandemic raging, so Lamor takes church online

and hosts prayer meetings over the phone. That's how Pauline Anderson meets Lamor. She's in her mid-50s and has recently joined leaders of tomorrow, where her son is also a member. Lamor helped her son find a place to live, and now, Pauline's hoping that he can do the same for her. She's recently had major surgery and needs a place to rest and recover. She wants to buy a house, but she later alleges that

Lamora tells her that her credit score isn't high enough. But she says that he offers to help her out. All she has to do is make an investment in his company and he'll use the money to help her buy a house. So Pauline sends Lamora a check for 90 grand, her life savings. She's hesitant at first, but he tells her that he'll send her $100

a month to make sure she has some money coming in. Well, for one whole month, Lamor does keep good on his promise, and he sends Pauline $100. But after that, she stops receiving payments. She reaches out to ask him where her stipend is and about the status of buying her her house. But according to text messages later presented in court, Lamor tells her that he can't access the money. And he says he can't deal with this right now. He's in the middle of an election season.

I truly hate this man. This is so evil. I feel so bad for her. Well, Pauline demands her money back, but Lamor tells her it's being invested and can't be touched for a year. He even goes so far as to say that he interpreted her check for 90 grand as a campaign contribution.

Pauline sues Lamor for fraud and for breach of contract. But Pauline isn't the only one Lamor is stiffing. He's also been bouncing checks to people working on his $1.5 million house in Paramus, New Jersey. And he stopped making payments on at least two of his cars, Mercedes-Benz and a Range Rover. His financial woes are multiplying. He's about to need his New York political connections more than ever, because Le Mans is about to get into the kind of trouble

that not even God's chosen mayor can bail him out of. On December 31, 2021, Eric Adams' dreams come true when he's inaugurated as mayor of New York City, and he immediately goes clubbing. This is the beginning of his tenure as New York's swaggy estmer, at least according to Eric Adams. Listen to this NBC New York clip from a press conference he held in January 2022. In the leadership should have that swagger. That's what has been missing in the city. You know, having lived here, I've always said,

what's missing in New York is the swag. Oh yeah, no, I think it's onto something. Swag, can heal nations, swag is everything. So, got a hand at two of them there, right? Swag is life. And according to Eric Adams, he's also New York's sexiest mayor. Sarah, please read this quote out loud.

He says, I wanna keep my body tight. I have great abs, I have a nice firm behind. And sometimes he gets distracted during press conferences, reminiscing about women he dated. So I know Park Hill very well. You know, I would tell you I met a shorty there, but I can't say that on TV, you know. Okay, you know, living in Toronto, we've had our mayor.

That was highly quotable. Yeah. And, you know, you kind of think like, oh, this could happen in Toronto because, you know, it's like a big city, but kind of small town. Yeah. But you're just like, how did this guy do it? I don't know. I don't know, Sarah.

Everything is coming up, Eric Adams. But things are not going nearly as well for his mentee. Lamore lost his bid for Brooklynboro president with a pitiful 1.4% of the vote in the Democratic primary. But, with Eric in the top job, Lamore still feels that he can do anything, including blatantly trying to extort a Bronx businessman by promising him lucrative city contracts, boasting about his connection to the new mayor. And then, a few months later, he becomes famous as a meme-slash subject of gossip after the live-streamed robbery goes viral. Remember that, Sarah?

Yes, I remember it from this episode and from life. Well, as the robbery video spreads, people start to accuse Lamor of staging the crime to collect insurance money, but Lamor maintains his innocence. And on his Instagram live, later on the same day of the robbery, he defends his lavish lifestyle. You know, it's my prerogative to purchase what I want to purchase. If I were codfooled, I can purchase what I want to purchase. What is this got even on about?

I think it's so hard to grasp how his mind can work. He's got a beautiful mind. But Eric comes to LeMora's defense, saying, quote, no one in this city should be the victim of armed robbery, let alone our faith leaders and congregants worshiping in a house of God. But that doesn't stop the speculation. It maybe even makes it worse. Even the rapper Fat Joe, who interviews Lamor on Instagram Live, has his doubts.

Nice couple of cops. They were like, yo, that shit was his setup. I have some gang dudes on the street that was like, nobody violates the church. Do you know how far we have fallen from the grace of God when Fat Joe is like the voice of reason? I have some gandoo on the street that was like nobody violates the church. Do you know how far we have fallen from the grace of God when Fat Joe is like the voice of reason here? Yeah, I mean obviously the fact that it was live streamed, you know, to me it's clear Lamore thought that would have made it foolproof. Like you guys saw it happen with your own eyes. I was robbed. Well, a few days after the robbery, Lamor calls into an Instagram live hosted

by Christian media personality Larry Reid. Larry and his co-host, another pastor named Genesis Warren, have been making jokes about the robbery and even talking about Lamor's wife. And they criticize the shabby decor in the church. Here's Larry on the Instagram live. If you rich, you can take $100,000 and buy you a whole new backdrop for the church. I said just don't make no sense to me."

Well apparently ripping on his interior design is a bridge too far, because Lamor calls in to share his side of the story. And less than two minutes in, Lamora goes on a tie-rate, repeatedly calling Genesis fat, and using a homophobic slur to refer to Larry after claiming that homosexuality is an abomination. The interview is a complete disaster. In the aftermath, even Eric has to distance himself, stating that Lomora used quote, in appropriate language. And if this bad press isn't enough, local media gets wind of Pauline Anderson's lawsuit

over Lamor allegedly stealing her 90 grand. Lamor addresses the fraud allegations from the pulpit saying, quote, that's what the enemy wants you to believe. Two months after the robbery, two men are charged for it. A third assailant remains at large. Lamor appears to be vindicated.

And like a true man of the cloth, he graciously forgives everyone who doubted him. Ha ha, no he doesn't. In the following months, Lamor actually files defamation suits against some of his biggest detractors. There's one for $20 million against Larry for saying that he, quote, scammed people out of money. Another for $ 50 million against radio

host DJ Miss Jones, who called LeMore a drug dealer, and won for $200 million against the Bronx businessman LeMore allegedly threatened to beat up. LeMore actually seems to be enjoying the media circus around his robbery. He even describes himself to one outlet as godly and glamorous, but the fun and games are about to take a major turn, and no amount of wing can help him. I feel like I like it. In December 2022, the FBI arrests the more on charges of extortion, making false statements and wire fraud.

Remember that auto shop guy he extorted, claiming he had the mayor in his pocket? Well, the businessman went straight to the FBI, reportedly telling them that he suspected the mayor is in on the take. They had him wear a wire the next time he saw Le Mans, and Kot Le Mans attempted rives, extortions, and threats on tape. And then, a few months later, Le Mans is charged with falsifying bank records and an attempt to acquire a fraudulent loan. Eric Adams has to comment on the charges, but he seems to go out of his way to avoid condemning his friend. Sarah, will you read the statement he gives to the Daily Beast? Yeah, he says, I've spent decades enforcing the law and I expect everyone to follow it.

I've also dedicated my life to assisting individuals with troubled pasts. While these allegations are troubling, I will withhold further comment until the process reaches its final conclusion. Wow, that is one way to wash your hands. So merely mouthed, isn't it? It's just like, hey, I was just helping a troubled guy and if he ended up doing something bad, that is one way to wash your hands. So merely mouth, doesn't it? It's just like, hey, I was just helping a troubled guy, and if he ended up doing something bad, that's not really my problem. People are going to do bad shit. Whoops.

Yeah, exactly. Well, after his arrest, Lamora's released on a $500,000 bond. And because it's Lamora, he continues live streaming. Nearly every day, sometimes for an hour at a time, with his Bible in front of him, reading scriptures, addressing haters, clapping for emphasis,

all in some truly glorious and ridiculous outfits. Sarah, can you describe this look for me? Okay, first of all, he's in a Rolls Royce with an orange leather interior, like bright orange, not like that burnt red, you kind of see an expensive cars. It's loud orange. And he's kind of dressed like the Riddler, like he's wearing a bright green Gucci monogram suit

with like purple accents. And he has, he's like peach glasses. Honestly, it's a good color story. I will not lie. However, he should not be dressed like this nor should he be in this role's voice. It's such a bad look. Well, Lamor has had to stop bragging about his relationship with Eric. The mayor's office tells the New Yorker in January 2023 that Eric and Lamor actually

haven't spoken since Eric's inauguration. But don't worry, Eric isn't lonely. Several of his other associates have also recently been accused of fraud. Lamores trial date was recently set for February 2024. He's facing up to 20 years in prison on the wire fraud charge, and many more years on other charges. His attorney told reporters, our client is looking forward to the trial so he can clear his name. Probably the person with the saddest end to their story is Aurora,

Lomora's former roommate. In November 2020, she died from complications of COVID-19. According to her mother and sister, she believed Lomora's demise was imminent. In addition to the Brooklyn DA, she talked to the FBI about him, and shortly before she fell ill, she told a friend, you're gonna see, they're gonna get him. Sarah, how do you feel about the prosperity gospel now? To be honest, I didn't even know it was called that. I mean, I know there's a lot of like religious scams and faith-based Ponzi schemes,

but this one really takes a cake because they weren't really getting anything in return. Like, I cannot stress how janky his church was and how janky it remained the whole time. So to me it was baffling. It was baffling that this guy was able to get money from people. But again, I guess that's not where the biggest part of his scam was. I feel like he maybe would have gotten away with more if he had just put a little money in the church.

People wouldn't have noticed the disparity so strongly if he had just like bought some new chairs and re-did the carpet. If he would have operated the way a mega church does, I think he probably would have gotten away with a lot more. The thing is he didn't put in the investment to like make it a scam with longevity. Yeah, he just wasn't good enough at it. I mean, usually when we talk about scam artists, they do have some kind of motivation for scamming, you know, like they can't do it legitimately and they fall into these patterns. It seems like the more was like ready to scam from the get. Yeah, there wasn't really like a huge scammer origin story here. Like, I didn't really understand his motivations too much other than the fact that he just like really, really want to be rich by any means necessary and was able to kind of grift in a way that preyed upon like the black community and spirituality and

the trust people have within those communities. And again, he didn't even really do it in a believable way, which is why the whole scam itself is quite shocking. And also that his active desperation was perhaps faking a robbery? Do you think he faked it? Oh, 1,000%. No one who would rob him, and I'm sure plenty of people would have wanted to rob him, and perhaps maybe had plans to at some point. No one would do it that way.

Do it on camera when you know when his life's here is in a good you do it after or before. Yeah, it's like robbery 101. Don't make sure that even more people say you do it and that it's recorded for posterity forever. That's probably I'd say the biggest rule when committing a crime. Isn't it a gas that this story is connected to the current mayor of New York City?

Not just connected, but he's like the second lead of the story. It's not just like, oh yeah, and he kind of knew Eric Adams. It's like, no, they were bros. These guys were thickest thieves, And now one of them is mayor, and the other one is awaiting trial. Would you say that the real scam artists are politicians? Yeah, I'm gonna quote a man we know as pit bull and say, I like to call it politics, not politics. Well, I am upset that you found a way to bring pit bull into it,

but it feels right that you did. Did you learn anything today? Yeah, it's that truly anyone can be mayor. I mean, I could do it. You know what? Here's what I'm going to do, Sarah. I'm going to become mayor. I'm going to take you with me, and then you can do whatever you want. Okay. Wait, no, wait a second. I saw what happened. No, no, no, no, no. I'm not going to be the little more to your area. You said yes, now you have to do it.

This is a legally binding podcast contract, dammit. Hey, prime members, you can listen to scam influencers ad-free on Amazon Music. Download the Amazon Music app today, or you can listen ad-free with Wondery Plus and Apple podcasts. Before you go, tell us about yourself by completing a short survey at Wondery.com slash survey. This is Brooklyn's Bling Bishop. I'm Sachi Kohl, and I'm Sarah Hagi. If you have a tip for us on a story that you think we should cover,

please email us at scamfulinsorsatwondery.com. We use many sources in our research. A few that were particularly helpful were the Mayor and the con man by Eric Latch and the New Yorker, and the story of the bishop robbed during his church service by Simon Venn Zylinwood in New York Magazine. Kylo Marshall wrote this episode, additional writing by us, Sachi Cole, and Sarah Haggi. Our senior producer is Jen Swan. Our producer is John Reed. Our associate producers are Charlotte Miller and Lexi Peary. Our story editor and producer is Sarah Annie.

Eric Thurham is our story editor. Sound Design is by James Morgan. Back checking by Will Tadlin. Additional audio assistance provided by Adrian Tapia. Our music supervisor is Scott Velasquez for Freeze On Sync. Back checking by Will Tadlin. Additional audio assistance provided by Adrian Tapia. Our music supervisor is Scott Velasquez for Freeze On Sync. Our managing producer is Matt Gantt and our senior managing producer is Ryan Lawre. Our coordinating producer is Desi Blaylock. Kate Young and Olivia Rechard are our series producers. Our senior story editor is Rachel B. Doyle.

Our senior producer is Jenny Bloom. Our executive producers are Janine Cornelow, Stephanie Jens, Jenny Lauer Beckman, and Marshall Louis, for Wondry.