The Day a Con Man Sold the Eiffel Tower Twice: The Lustig Scam

A Scandal That Fooled Paris—and the World

The Sale of the Eiffel Tower in the Paris of the 1920s. It was a city of glittering art, roaring jazz, and audacious dreams. But beneath the glamour of the Années Folles, one of the most brazen scams in history unfolded—when a smooth-talking con artist named Victor Lustig sold the Eiffel Tower. Not once, but twice.

This isn’t just a wild tale from the past. It’s a story that reveals the audacity of human deception, the gullibility of even the most powerful men, and the enduring allure of Paris as a stage for the extraordinary. Today, as you walk beneath the iron lattice of the Eiffel Tower, you’re standing where one of history’s greatest grifters pulled off his masterpiece.

The Man Who Sold a Monument: Who Was Victor Lustig?

Victor Lustig wasn’t your average swindler. Born in 1890 in what is now the Czech Republic, he was a linguist (fluent in five languages), a master of disguise, and a man with an uncanny ability to read people. By the time he arrived in Paris in the 1920s, he had already scammed his way across Europe, posing as everything from a count to a government official.

How does one become such a genius of fraud?

Very early on, Lustig displayed two essential traits: exceptional intelligence and a total lack of scruples. Known today by his main pseudonym, he was in fact born Robert Miller. The second of three children in a modest family, he was born on January 4, 1890, in Hostinné, a small town in Bohemia, then part of Austria-Hungary. His father, Ludwig, was a small tobacco merchant—gruff, authoritarian, and stingy—with whom he never got along well… except when he took him along on business trips across Europe. Perhaps that is where he acquired his ease in traveling: as an adult, he would rarely stay more than a month in the same city and would cross the Atlantic dozens of times.

A gifted but inattentive student, he became particularly unruly at the age of eight, after his parents’ divorce. From childhood, he developed all kinds of talents that would later prove extremely useful: he was an excellent mimic with an innate sense of disguise; skilled in science, he designed plans for improbable machines, including a flying bicycle; thanks to his exceptional memory, he remembered not only all his classmates’ birthdays but also the books he devoured tirelessly; curious about everything, he gradually built a very solid general knowledge; a persuasive speaker, he lied with complete self-assurance… Finally, from an early age, this slender dark-haired young man with gray eyes was aware of his power of seduction over women.

With women, Victor honed his first skills

At fourteen, he decided to escape the dull life imposed by his father and ran away: within a few days, he traveled nearly 1,200 kilometers to end up in Paris, where he stayed for two months in a brothel. Found by the police, he was sent to a boarding school, from which he quickly escaped. Thus began several years of wandering, alternating between great escapes and returns home. He dreamed of becoming a writer, architect, or painter. He took classes, dropped out, and started again…

By the age of eighteen, he had ultimately spent less time in school than rigging bets and cheating at cards. Arrested several times, he became elusive by moving quickly between Vienna, Prague, and Bucharest. But this hand-to-mouth existence was not enough for him, so he began to devise strategies. His favorite targets? Wealthy women whom he hunted in luxury hotels. His method? To pose as a philanthropic aristocrat—“Count Victor Lustig”—temporarily short of cash to help an orphanage. Charmed, his prey would advance him the funds, which he pocketed before disappearing.

In Paris in 1910, after repeatedly hovering around ladies, a jealous fiancé slashed his left cheek, leaving him with a six-centimeter scar he would carry for the rest of his life.

After the palaces, he targeted transatlantic ocean liners

During his transatlantic voyages, he posed, among other things, as a Broadway producer seeking investors for his next show. To appear more credible, he took English lessons, lost his accent, and thoroughly studied his subject.

Meticulously prepared, he also knew how to adapt and even change plans if necessary. Once again, he amassed fortunes. Proof that he had mastered the art of manipulation perfectly, he would later write in his journal the “Ten Commandments of the Con Artist,” including: “Never boast—simply let your importance be quietly obvious,” and “Let the other person reveal their religious or political views, then share them.”

Al Capone gives him a run for his money

When the First World War broke out, cruises came to a halt. Lustig turned instead to American banks, from which he secured loans for acquisitions that were each more fictitious than the last. In 1919, he fell in love with a modest laundress, whom he married in Kansas City. Roberta discovered his illicit activities during their honeymoon, alerted by hotel reservations made under false names and by his inseparable black overcoat riddled with secret pockets stuffed with fortunes in various currencies. Deeply in love, she forgave him but never truly adjusted. They divorced in 1926, four years after the birth of their daughter, Betty.

In the United States in 1920, he set to work on his next big idea: a fake machine for reproducing banknotes.

The inventions of his childhood were not far behind. His “Romanian box” supposedly made it possible to duplicate any denomination—but in six hours… For the demonstration, he had of course slipped a genuine bill into a secret compartment. Fascinated, his customer paid $30,000 and then had to wait long hours again before realizing the deception. Delays that gave Lustig plenty of time to make his escape!

Accorfing to the legend, he narrowly avoided disaster when in Chicago by targeting a young gangster—none other than Al Capone—whom he nevertheless managed to befriend later.

The Two Sales of the Eiffel-Tour : How Lustig Tricked a Scrap Metal Dealer

But Paris was different. The city was still recovering from World War I, and the Eiffel Tower—originally built as a temporary structure for the 1889 World’s Fair—was in disrepair. Many Parisians saw it as an eyesore, and rumors swirled that the city might dismantle it. Lustig saw an opportunity.

Public opinion helped Victor Lustig

Indeed, thirty-six years after its construction, the “Iron Lady” was still fueling heated debate. Dismissed by some as a “hole-riddled suppository” or a “tragic lamppost,” it embodied modernity for others. For several months, the staggering cost of its maintenance had been occupying editorial writers, some of whom were even insistently calling for its demolition…

A well-crafted scenario for the Sale of the Eiffel Tower

In May 1925, Lustig sent invitations to five of Paris’s most prominent scrap metal dealers, summoning them to a confidential meeting at the Hôtel de Crillon, one of the capital’s most luxurious hotels. Discretion was essential given the current controversy surrounding the Eiffel Tower.

Posing as the “Deputy Director of the Ministry of Posts and Telegraphs”, Lustig explained that the Eiffel Tower had become too expensive to maintain and would therefore be sold for scrap.

The dealers were skeptical—until Lustig produced forged government documents and took them on a private tour of the tower (after bribing a guard to let them in after hours). One dealer, André Poisson, was so convinced that he handed over a briefcase containing 70,000 francs (about $1 million today) in cash and bonds. Being chauffeured around in a limousine bearing a ministerial emblem also reassured him. Even the barely veiled request for a bribe—common enough among civil servants, as he believed—strengthened his feeling that he was in control of the situation.

Paris, May 13, 1925. In a private lounge of the luxurious Hôtel de Crillon on Place de la Concorde, André Poisson reviewed one last time the contract bearing the letterhead of the Ministry of Posts and Telegraphs, which he was about to initial. He was pleasantly surprised that his offer had prevailed over those of his five competitors. He was on the verge of signing a check for 1.2 million francs—a colossal sum, certainly, but commensurate with the scale of his acquisition. This recently established and newly wealthy metal broker was not a little proud to have finally convinced his suspicious wife that this was the deal of the century: buying the Eiffel Tower to dismantle it and resell it piece by piece—what an apotheosis for a provincial scrap dealer!

Over the weeks of negotiations with Victor Lustig, the “deputy director in charge of the sale,” his doubts had fallen away one by one. At first surprised to be dealing only with the director, flanked by his exceedingly deferential secretary, it now seemed obvious to him that the strictest confidentiality had been necessary to avoid unnecessary public controversy.

Lustig took the money, fled to Vienna, and left Poisson with nothing but a worthless contract—and the humiliation of realizing he had been duped.

A little psychology—and the fish is hooked!

Facing André Poisson, Victor Lustig himself could hardly believe his success. He had spotted this sucker from afar—naivety, provincial insecurities, and a desire to shine in his wife’s eyes written all over him. But Poisson had exceeded even the swindler’s highest expectations. Victor Lustig had flattered him, dazzled him with lavish dinners, convinced him with forged documents, and above all wrapped him around his finger with his incredible gift of gab. As usual, Emil, Lustig’s younger brother and principal accomplice, had been perfect in the role of the zealous secretary. Lustig also knew that his suggestion of a kickback had been a masterstroke. His long hours spent reading psychology books, combined with his sharp and creative intelligence, had done the rest. At thirty-five, after twenty years of practice, he had become a master in the art of swindling his fellow man—without violence and, above all, without getting caught.

No complaint from André Poisson about the Sale of the Eiffel Tower

Against all expectations, the swindlers discovered that the press had not written a single word about the scam. And for good reason: humiliated, Poisson had not dared to report the fraud to the police. Shame and the need to protect his reputation as a businessman prevailed on the Sale of the Eiffel-Tower.

Even More Audacious: the Second Sale of the Eiffel-Tower—Which Goes Wrong

Victor Lustig’s success and confidence were such that, after a brief stay in Vienna, he decided to repeat the scam a month later: to sell the Eiffel Tower a second time. But the second attempt to sell the tower collapsed at the last moment. His intended victim, seized by doubt, alerted the police, and the swindler had to leave France in haste. But the legend of the man who sold the Eiffel Tower was born.

Victor Lustig’s High Life after the Eiffel-Tower master scam

He settled in the United States, where he continued his career as a con artist. With the proceeds from the sale of the Eiffel Tower, Lustig lived the high life, staying in luxury hotel suites and spending lavishly. He carried out both small and large scams, as much out of necessity as out of taste, even if it sometimes led him to lapse in judgment. He even married again—his wife discovering during their honeymoon that she had wed a con man—had a daughter, and divorced four years later.

Victor Lustig turns to counterfeiting

Victor Lustig quickly returned to the United States, where he took up counterfeiting. In Remsen County, Oklahoma, he was imprisoned but managed to persuade Sheriff Richard to release him in exchange for a money-printing press at a special price.

The sheriff realized the trick too late and pursued Lustig all the way to Chicago, where he caught up with him. But Lustig kept his composure and explained to the sheriff that he had simply used the machine incorrectly. He dazzled him with technical jargon until his victim agreed that Lustig should return to Oklahoma to demonstrate once again how to operate the device.

To calm him completely, Lustig handed over a bundle of $100 bills as compensation for the trip. Of course, the money was counterfeit—and Sheriff Richard was arrested shortly afterward.

Victor Lustig at the Top of the “Wanted” Poster

In 1934, the United States Secret Service set up a special task force to uncover the source of the counterfeit money flooding the United States.

A pharmacist named William Watts was first suspected; during Prohibition, he had already forged labels for whisky bottles. Only was known the name of his intermediary, Count Victor Lustig.

The elusive counterfeiter changed his name, appearance, and city so quickly that the Federal Bureau of Investigation pursued him for more than five years. Lustig might well have escaped the federal authorities had it not been for a tip-off from the second husband of his ex-wife. The man had his daughter Betty followed in order to discover her address and pass it on to the authorities. Victor Lustig, who was arrested on May 10, 1935 and admitted that Watts had been engraving printing plates for banknotes, but insisted that he himself had nothing to do with the operation. Unfortunately for him, he was carrying a key to a locker in Times Square. Inside, alongside 51,000 counterfeit U.S. dollars, authorities also found printing plates for fake banknotes.

Lustig was charged and imprisoned in New York. On the eve of his trial, he managed to escape by making a rope out of his bed sheet. Twenty-seven days later, he was arrested once again in Pittsburgh.

His trial took place on December 5, 1935, with the main witness, William Watts, having been arrested shortly beforehand. Lustig was sentenced to fifteen years in prison and sent to Alcatraz Federal Penitentiary in California where he reunited with Capone, who took him under his protection. .

On the wall of his cell, he had pinned a postcard of the Eiffel Tower, with the word “sold!” written on it. He reportedly told a guard, “I’ve done everything wrong in life, but I did it with style.” On March 9, 1947, at the age of fifty-seven, he contracted pneumonia and died two days later at the United States Medical Center for Federal Prisoners in Springfield, Missouri.

As for the sale of the Eiffel Tower, it went unpunished. His file at the French National Security was in fact rather thin, even though he had often operated in Paris—a city that had fascinated him ever since his father first showed it to him at the age of seven.

Why the Scam Worked: The Psychology of Deception

Lustig’s success wasn’t just luck. He exploited three key psychological tricks:

1. Authority Bias – By posing as a government official, he made his victims trust him instantly.
2. Scarcity – He claimed the sale was a one-time, secret deal, pressuring the buyers to act fast.
3. Social Proof – The fake tour of the tower made the scam feel real.

Even today, these tactics are used in modern scams—from phishing emails to fake investment schemes. The Eiffel Tower scam is a masterclass in how con artists manipulate human psychology.

The Aftermath: What Happened after the Sale of the Eiffel Tower ?

As for the Eiffel Tower? It was never sold and is still not for sale. Instead, it became the most visited paid monument in the world, with nearly 7 million visitors a year.

Could This Happen Today? Modern Scams in Paris

While no one’s selling the Eiffel Tower anymore, Paris remains a hotspot for scams. Here are a few to watch out for:

• The “Petition” Scam – Someone asks you to sign a petition, then demands money for a “donation.”
• The Gold Ring Trick – A scammer “finds” a gold ring on the ground and offers to sell it to you (it’s fake).
• Fake Taxi Drivers – Unlicensed cabs overcharge tourists at airports or train stations.

The best defense? Stay skeptical, and remember: if a deal seems too good to be true, it probably is.

Visiting the Eiffel Tower Today: A Symbol of Paris’s Resilience

Despite its shaky start (many Parisians hated it when it was built), the Eiffel Tower is now the heart of the city. Here’s how to visit like a pro:

• Skip the Lines – Book tickets online in advance to avoid hours of waiting.
• Best Time to Visit – Sunset offers the most magical views (but go early to avoid crowds).
• Hidden Gem – The Champ de Mars park below is perfect for a picnic with a view.

The Legacy of Lustig’s Scam: Why We Still Talk About the Sale of the Eiffel Tower

The story of the Eiffel Tower scam endures because it’s more than just a funny anecdote—it’s a reminder that even the most iconic landmarks can become pawns in a game of deception. It also shows how Paris, with its mix of grandeur and vulnerability, has always been a stage for both genius and trickery.

Next time you see the Eiffel Tower, remember: beneath its iron beams lies a history not just of engineering, but of audacity, fraud, and the endless human capacity for both brilliance and folly.

Final Thought: The Con Man’s Lesson for Travelers

Victor Lustig’s scam teaches us one thing: in a city as dazzling as Paris, it’s easy to get swept up in the magic. But the best travelers are the ones who keep their wits about them—enjoying the beauty while staying one step ahead of the grifters.

After all, the real treasure of Paris isn’t in its monuments, but in the stories they hold. And this one? It’s a doozy.