The text message arrived on the afternoon of June 5, 2024. A call or text from a landlord rarely means good news, and this one was no exception.
"Can u call me," it read. "We might have a break in."
The timing could hardly have been worse for Victoria Paris, an influencer based in Los Angeles. She was 3,000 miles away in New York, preparing to close a business deal and then fly off to Europe for the summer.
Victoria got on the phone with her landlord, who by then had confirmed it was indeed a burglary. Someone had entered through her bathroom window, the only one in the house without an alarm, and ransacked the place.
"I was sick to my stomach," Victoria, then 25, recalled. "I couldn't move."
The burglar's haul, she said, included two Rabanne bags, two Miu Miu bags, Hermes scarves, a Louis Vuitton duffel bag and trays upon trays of jewelry — at least $15,000 worth of items.
When she watched her home's surveillance footage, Victoria was stunned to see that the burglar came back the following day. But he didn't enter the house — the window had been boarded up. She was so shaken that she decided to move without ever returning to her place.
Everyone she knew told her not to post on social media about the burglary. They feared it would make her more of a target.
But it wasn't in Victoria Paris' DNA to keep such news to herself. You don't amass 2 million TikTok followers by staying mum on what's going on in your life. So she did what she always does, but this time it wasn't just about trying to go viral.
"I was like, 'OK, now we got to get his ass,'" Victoria said.
Her initial video garnered over 1 million views, which wasn't out of the ordinary. But what was unusual was the kind of information that began to flow in from her audience.
"This is super random, but someone I work for owns a jewelry brand," one person wrote, "and they had two attempted break-ins from who they think is the same person."
She spoke to the owners, and now she had a name for the alleged bandit. She also had a list of other people who believed they had been victimized by the same person.
Victoria posted more videos about the burglar and heard more stories. It wasn't just jewelry and handbags he was stealing, she was told. The thief targeted high-end midcentury modern furniture — some pieces so rare they cost as much as luxury cars.
And there was something else unusual about this alleged crime spree. Nearly all of the victims knew each other or at least were connected on social media.
"The pattern is definitely people with good taste," Victoria said. "I loved everybody he was burglarizing. It was definitely a vibe."
As the tips poured in, she learned about one victim who was the wrong guy to cross, a vintage furniture dealer-turned-vigilante who had somehow managed to steal back at least one of his items.
Victoria came to realize that she was one of more than half a dozen successful tastemakers who were convinced they had been hit by the same man. Her TikTok videos acted like a clarion call, bringing them all together. They traded notes, shared stories and strategized over how to make him pay for his actions.
But despite their best efforts, they still haven't gotten very far in figuring out why this enigmatic bandit with impeccable taste was targeting them in the first place. Or what he was ultimately after.
The first furniture swindle: A $684 Eames chair
Amanda Hallberg was in architecture school in the early 2000s when she started Modern Conscience, a furniture restoration business. She didn't see it as a ticket to riches; it was more a way to justify collecting classic items she obsessed over.
"I was a poor student putting myself through school, and I really love this furniture and really needed it," Amanda said.
Soon, she was spending all of her free time in search of vintage chairs, scouring the internet and driving the streets of Chicago to see what might have been left in an alley or even inside a dumpster. The most coveted pieces were designed by the American duo Charles and Ray Eames — best known for their eponymous lounge chairs.
While some of the lengths Amanda went to acquire such items may have been extreme, her interest was not. Legions of people obsess over midcentury modern furniture, a design style popularized around the 1950s and considered timeless for its clean lines and uncomplicated forms.
"The furniture has become almost like art," Amanda, who is based in Seattle, said. "You could buy an Eames lounge at the beginning of the summer, and by the end of the summer it has increased in value."
Amanda had been in business for nearly 20 years when she received an order for a 1950s-era Eames dining chair priced at $684. Once the transaction went through, the buyer placed an additional order for an even rarer Eames chair. It was a special piece — with handwriting from the original maker under the seat — that would attract a special kind of collector.
This man seemed to fit the bill. He said his name was Benjamin, and he appeared to have a home in Washington, D.C., as well as a luxury loft in Los Angeles, according to research she did on her own.
So Amanda had no problem going forward with the sale. But within a couple days, she received a notice saying the charge was disputed and the payment reversed. Someone had apparently stolen Benjamin's credit card information and used it to purchase the chairs.
A $7,800 Togo sofa
Four months after Amanda was scammed, a direct message landed in the Instagram account of Merit, a high-end vintage furniture store in Los Angeles.
The owner, Paul Bearman, got his start in retail selling Lacoste polo shirts on Rodeo Drive. He went on to work for a number of upscale stores before opening his own business in 2016.
"Merit is just an extension of me," Paul said. "It's things I find interesting, things I'm attracted to. Sometimes they're ugly, sometimes they're beautiful. They're usually old and usually pretty rare."
It was not uncommon for would-be buyers to reach out via Instagram, and nothing about the message Paul received in November 2022 was unusual.
The person expressed interest in buying a classic Togo sofa by Ligne Roset. It was about 50 years old and priced at $7,800.
Paul sent the buyer a credit card form. The customer's information was processed, and shippers arrived that same day to pick up the sofa.
But within 48 hours, the purchase was reported as fraudulent.
"I've never even had credit card fraud in 10 years of being in business," Paul said. "And there was something extra irregular about the situation."
Paul happened to receive a call from another furniture dealer who had also been a victim of credit card fraud. They compared stories and concluded that they were likely targeted by the same fraudster.
Meanwhile, in Seattle, Amanda was closing in on the person who hit her business. On the order form for the chairs, the buyer had listed the person receiving the items as Zack V. A quick Google search revealed a Zack Vincler at that address.
Amanda said she contacted police in Los Angeles and where she lived, but that didn't go anywhere.
So she created a page on her website about the stolen chairs. The idea was that if the fraudster tried to sell them, a potential buyer researching the chairs might come upon the page and realize they had been stolen.
She wasn't expecting what happened next. In the days and weeks after she set up the page, titled "Stolen by Zack Vincler," Amanda said she heard from more than a dozen furniture dealers and others who reported being ripped off by him.
Back in L.A., Paul did his own digging into Zack. Not long after he confirmed where the man lived, Paul received an order for another Togo sofa.
"Something about it felt wrong," he said.
Paul Bearman isn't the type to just move on after he's been cheated. And now, he saw an opportunity.
Turning the tables
Paul went forward with the sale. And about two hours later, a pair of delivery guys arrived to pick up the sofa.
"A huge red flag," Paul said. "Nothing gets picked up that fast. You might hold things for weeks or months in my business."
The address was the same one Paul had previously identified. So he made an offer to the delivery guys: I'll pay you for the rest of the day if you allow me to jump into your van and go to his place.
The address was in the heart of downtown L.A.'s notorious Skid Row, about 10 miles from Paul's store. He followed the delivery guys in his own car, parked it and then jumped into the van, putting on a hoodie for good measure.
How big was Zack? Did he carry a gun or a knife? Paul didn't even consider such things as he and the delivery guys approached the apartment. Whatever was behind that door, he felt ready for it.
"I opened the door and I just kind of pushed him to the side with my arm," Paul said. "I pull out my phone. I just start recording."
Paul figured the apartment might contain a host of stolen furniture, and he wanted to be sure to capture footage to share with other dealers.
And thus began a most surreal standoff.
Cellphone footage shows Zack holding the leash of an exceptionally docile German shepherd while ordering his uninvited guests to leave. Paul sits calmly on his own fraudulently purchased Togo sofa, refusing to go anywhere until police arrive.
At one point, Paul said, Zack tried to push him out of the apartment.
"I just very quickly had him in a headlock," Paul said. "I'm laying down holding him, and I was like, 'Look, I'm not here to hurt you, but you're not leaving and we're not leaving until the cops come.'"
After roughly three hours, officers finally showed up. But Paul didn't get the outcome he was looking for. The police ordered him out of the apartment along with the deliverymen. According to Paul, they said there was no proof Zack had stolen anything. (The LAPD did not comment.)
Hours later, a furious Paul texted Zack. "I want that black togo sent back," he wrote. "We open at 9..set it up."
That morning, to Paul's surprise, the sofa was delivered to Merit.
"I thought that was it," he said. "I just thought the story was over."
A 21-piece, $58,000 sofa
Five months later, Paul was in New York on business when one of his employees called with bad news. There was a burglary at Merit.
Paul pulled up the surveillance footage. It showed a white van backing up to the store, but the burglar managed to cut the video feeds from multiple cameras, leaving almost no footage of the theft itself.
It didn't take long, however, for Paul to realize what had been taken: a massive, 21-piece Mah Jong sofa by Roche Bobois. Retail price: $58,000.
"Each piece was 30 to 40 pounds," he said. "It was a lot of effort to steal that sofa."
Paul was certain it was Zack, but he had no proof. So he offered a reward via his Instagram account, and it worked like a charm. Someone sent Paul surveillance video of a man who appeared to be Zack wheeling the brightly colored sofa pieces into his apartment building.
Paul forwarded the evidence to police. He also texted some of the damning surveillance images to Zack, along with a message.
"This was the single worst decision you ever made," Paul wrote. "I'm going to make you famous."
The threat did not appear to have the intended effect. While the police were still investigating, there was a second break-in at Merit, eight days after the first one.
The masked burglar, captured on surveillance video this time, wore all black with purple latex gloves. Among the stolen items was a 1920s-era Goyard trunk ($32,000), a Gucci snakeskin desk set ($4,800) and a cast aluminum chair by Pierre Guariche ($3,500), according to Paul.
Once again, Paul sent the evidence he had to police. By then he had learned something else that bordered on the absurd: Someone had sent him Zack's profile on the Hinge dating app, which included a photo of Zack's dog snuggled up against Paul's stolen sofa.
Days later, Zack was arrested and charged with three counts of commercial burglary. According to prosecutors, on the very same day he stole from Paul's store the first time, he also hit another furniture store, this one in Beverly Hills.
The arrest was a long time coming for Paul. And by then, he had another reason to celebrate.
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After the second robbery, he received a tip that there was a large item covered by a blanket in the back seat of Zack's car. Paul suspected that it was his $32,000 trunk.
"So I called a guy," Paul said, "and I told him straight up, 'I want you to break into this car.'"
Paul made a simple offer: $2,000 if you recover the trunk, $1,000 if it's not there.
Within an hour, Paul said, he received a call from "his guy."
"He starts laughing," and "he goes, 'You owe me two grand.'"
His 'modus operandi'
A stint behind bars will sometimes scare a young person straight. That apparently wasn't the case for Zack Vincler.
He was released on a $60,000 bond on May 4, 2023. About four weeks later, someone broke into the Beverly Hills home of Emily Oberg, an influencer-turned-founder of fashion brand Sporty & Rich, police said. The burglar stole a rare set of Pierre Paulin Elysee floor lamps, valued at $10,000 each, along with five designer chairs and other items, police said.
Emily shared surveillance footage with the Los Angeles Police Department, and it made its way to the detective who previously investigated Zack, according to a police report.
That detective noticed that the suspect bore a strong resemblance to Zack, whose "modus operandi was to target expensive mid-century modern furniture," the report says.
Apodcasting duowho interviewed Emily after the burglary described Zack in more flattering terms: "The most tasteful burglar in Los Angeles."
A sting investigation led to Zack's arrest and additional felony charges — seven in all. After spending eight months in jail, he agreed to a plea deal and was sentenced to time served on one count of residential burglary and one count of identity theft.
"I don't know if my client was obsessed with midcentury modern furniture," said Zack's lawyer, Arnold Reed II, "but I'll tell you who is: me. I love it."
Zack was released on probation on March 14, 2024.
"I haven't spoken to him since," said Arnold, "which, fingers crossed, is a really good thing."
Casing the place
The spring of 2024 was an unsettling time for Rachel Cleverley and her partner, Josh Warner.
The couple owns a high-end jewelry company called GOOD ART. They live in a gated home in the Hollywood Hills, where on March 26 — 12 days after Zack was released from custody — their Ring camera captured a slender man with a close-cropped beard, a denim jacket, white pants and black chunky sunglasses lurking outside their property. According to Josh and Rachel, he's seen on the footage raising his cellphone above the gate to apparently take photos or video of their house.
"I said, 'Oh, that's someone casing the place,'" Josh recalled. "I knew instantly. I've seen a lot of movies."
Three weeks later, the couple was out of town when they received a Ring camera alert at around 3 a.m. It captured a person with a similar build inside the gate of their home. The masked trespasser was wearing a black hoodie and black Converse shoes and was carrying a black tote bag.
When Rachel and Josh returned, they noticed that the kitchen window had been broken. Luckily, nothing was taken. But they believe that was only because Josh had activated the speaker on their camera and scared off the would-be burglar.
They hoped that was the end of it. But the next month, their Ring camera captured a man loitering outside their home, apparently taking photos or videos, and it appeared to be the same guy from the first incident.
"The outfit itself was unusual," Josh said. "You could tell his next meal wasn't important to him. Looking good was important to him."
The couple tried to lure him into a trap. They posted on social media that they were leaving town when in fact they had some loyal friends hiding inside their home "with pipes" — and they "weren't doing plumbing," Josh said.
So they tried a different approach, posting a photo of the man on their Instagram page. They hoped someone might recognize this person who seemed bent on breaking into their home.
Almost instantly, they got a hit.
"We learned," Josh said, "that he [had] worked for one of our best friends, this guy Johan."
Beautiful jeans
Johan was Johan Lam, co-founder of 3sixteen, a menswear brand that specializes in raw denim jeans. 3sixteen had developed an almost cultlike following among a certain set of men obsessed with how untreated denim ages over time.
Zack was apparently one of them. He posted pictures of himself in 3sixteen jeans on online fashion forums, some of whichdrew rave reviews.
"He became sort of well known" for "having really well-worn, beautiful-looking jeans," Johan said.
Zack showed up at the 3sixteen office in 2016 after moving cross-country from Pennsylvania, where he grew up. He was an aspiring photographer who was very into fashion. Zack began to shoot photos for 3sixteen, attending parties with the likes of Rachel and Josh, and was eventually hired to work at the company's retail store in Los Angeles, Johan said.
He came off as ultraprivate and a bit awkward, but he was a reliable worker, Johan said. If anything stood out about Zack, it was the car he drove: a 1970s cream-colored Mercedes.
Zack worked there for two years before leaving to join another clothing brand. Soon after, Johan says, he heard from employees that Zack had started coming into another of his stores and paying in cash for expensive items including jewelry from GOOD ART, Josh and Rachel's brand.
Suspicious, Johan instructed the company's bookkeeper to look into their financial records. The bookkeeper, he said, discovered dozens of mysterious PayPal transfers to an external account — about $35,000 in all.
After they reported it to PayPal, they learned that the account was tied to Zack. Johan sent the supporting evidence to police, according to emails reviewed by NBC News, but no charges were brought.
The episode, and Zack himself, faded from Johan's mind. But then he heard about the burglaries at Merit and that Zack was charged with carrying them out.
"I was shocked," Johan said. "It was also shocking that it was not just Paul that was being robbed, but a lot of other people."
The arrest for the Merit burglaries made Johan reflect on where Zack's apparent fixation on midcentury modern furniture may have stemmed from. While Zack was employed by 3sixteen, the company partnered with Herman Miller to design a new version of the iconic Eames lounge chair — a collaboration that represented a special moment for Johan's company.
"His interest in midcentury modern furniture may have started with working for us and seeing a project like this being made," he said.
Johan assumed Zack would be going to prison for a long time. But then he saw the images Josh posted of the man loitering outside his house and realized that didn't happen.
"Immediately I knew it was Zack," Johan said.
It was around this time that Victoria Paris' home was burglarized.
Thanks to the power of social media and Victoria's massive following, it didn't take long for her TikTok clip to make its way to Johan. To Josh and Rachel. And also to Paul.
They all came to the same conclusion: The burglar was Zack Vincler.
Same outfit
Shortly after posting the clip, Victoria received a direct message from an artist who works with Josh and Rachel. When the friend saw Victoria's video, she said she suspected it might be the same person who had trespassed onto the couple's property.
Soon, Josh and Rachel were communicating directly with Victoria and exchanging surveillance images. They were convinced it was the same man. The telltale clue, they say, was the trespasser's outfit, which was identical to what Victoria's burglar had worn.
"The Converse, the tote bag, the exact same guy," Victoria said.
When Victoria saw the clear images of the man captured outside the couple's home, she was also struck by something else: how handsome he was.
"If I saw this man on Hinge, I would swipe right," she said. "He's an attractive dude."
And now she also knew his name. Victoria made more TikTok videos documenting what she had learned, which led to more people reaching out to her about Zack.
One of them was Paul, Zack's archnemesis, whose stories she could hardly believe.
"If anybody was going to get him, it's Paul," Victoria said. "They don't even make men like that anymore."
Perhaps the most crucial tips Victoria received came from multiple people who worked for Wasteland, a popular vintage store in Los Angeles.
"Zack Vincler sells at all the Wasteland locations," one message said. "We have a group chat about him and the stuff he sells."
Victoria went to the location near her home and got back her black Rabanne bag, but that was it.
Two former Wasteland employees told NBC News that Zack regularly showed up to sell designer handbags and other luxury items they suspected had been stolen. They spoke on the condition of anonymity because they were not authorized to discuss company matters.
"I 100% remember someone from our store buying it from him," one of the former employees said of the Rabanne bag.
"The items he was selling were worth way more than what we were paying," said the second ex-Wasteland worker. "It's always suspicious when somebody does that."
The employee said they eventually looked him up and saw the webpage created by Amanda, "Stolen by Zack Vincler." It was brought to the attention of store management, but it was only after Victoria began posting about him and his connection to Wasteland that the store stopped buying from Zack, both employees said.
"We were duped by Mr. Vincler and appreciate Ms. Paris' emails," Wasteland said in a statement to NBC News. "When informed, we promptly restored the property to its rightful owner."
Victoria said she has forwarded all the evidence she's collected to the LAPD. So far, there have been no arrests in her home burglary.
Victoria thinks that could be because the stolen items didn't include any furniture.
"They have him pegged as this guy who has a hard-on for midcentury s---," she said. "So why would he burglarize me for some Miu Miu bags and some jewelry?"
The LAPD declined to comment on Victoria's burglary and the attempted burglary at Josh and Rachel's, saying the "investigation is ongoing."
The lack of police action is troubling to Zack's previous victims as well, particularly Paul and Amanda.
After Zack was released from custody, they both received a barrage of negative comments on their online company pages, as well as expletive-ridden emails and direct messages. Both of their websites also mysteriously stopped showing up on Google searches — resulting in a monthslong process to get them reinstated. And to this day, they continue to receive harassing messages.
"The part of this case that really makes me worry is that Zack is going to keep escalating because that seems to be the pattern," Amanda said, noting that it began with credit card fraud and then grew into burglaries of businesses and then people's homes.
"So I worry," she added, "that he will escalate to a point where he really harms somebody or he gets harmed."
Zack's whereabouts are unknown. He skipped out on a probation hearing in December 2024, prompting a judge to issue a bench warrant for his arrest.
Arnold Reed II, the lawyer who represented Zack, said he was not aware of the allegations by Victoria or Josh and Rachel.
"It doesn't seem like there's all that much evidence," he said.
As for Paul, he said he's no longer in search of the stolen pieces of furniture that he wasn't able to recover himself. But if he were to bump into Zack on the street?
"I'd f--- him up," Paul said, stone-faced and with no hesitation. "I'd go to jail."
The text message arrived on the afternoon of June 5, 2024. A call or text from a landlord rarely means good news, and thi...
