Romance con artist Ray McDonald back on dating apps days after prison release
Catfishing conman resumes online dating soon after finishing seventh prison term for romance fraud
By Jane Downs and Philippa Goymer, North East and Cumbria Investigations
Within days of leaving prison, Raymond McDonald returned to the dating scene, seeking his next target despite a lengthy history of deception and theft. Over more than two decades, he racked up 58 convictions, largely for fraud and theft, profiting from lies and taking thousands of pounds from women for holidays and weddings that never materialized.
This time, the BBC was the one doing the dating. McDonald believed he was meeting a date named Kaye, but instead encountered a BBC reporter and camera crew.
McDonald had online connections with a woman he called Kaye, while using the alias Rob and claiming to be a deep-sea diver in search of a wife. It was a practiced script, one he’s spoken many times before.
Born in County Durham, McDonald was conscripted, then discharged from the army in August 2000. He was released on licence from his most recent prison spell in November 2025, and by December 3, 2025, the BBC located him on an online dating site living near York.
A BBC colleague pretended to be Kaye, a mother of two in her fifties from Selby. Wearing a wig and posing with a glass of wine and a cat, she described it as her first experience with dating apps.
On her first day online, McDonald liked Kaye’s profile and started a chat. He offered to help a friend’s daughter move, suggested they could stay in his lodge, and urged Kaye to buy presents from a friend who could get things cheaply. He even proposed splitting the cost of a handbag for the daughter, adding talk of a possible “wedding in Vegas.”
As Kaye, BBC reporter Philippa Goymer arranged to meet him for a real-world date. Approaching the meeting point, she asked, “It’s Rob, isn’t it?” He replied “Yes,” then realized the microphone and crew gave him away.
When pressed about returning to dating apps, McDonald claimed he was “just looking for friendship” and wanted to meet someone nice. Goymer confronted him: “No, you’re not here to meet someone; you’re here to steal from them.” He admitted to apologising, even as he had caused people to lose their homes.
Five days later, on December 15, 2025, North Yorkshire Police arrested McDonald at the request of Northumbria Police. An HM Prison & Probation Service spokesperson said he was returned to prison for breaching the terms of his licence.
Northumbria Police have estimated there may be hundreds of McDonald’s victims, many too ashamed to report the crimes. After the BBC documentary Are we dating the same fraudster? aired, two more women stepped forward, one describing the situation as feeling “like being hit by a train” to learn he was still active.
Caroline, from County Durham, divorced in 2002, recalled initially being cautious but swayed by a friend to try dating apps. On their first meeting, McDonald—using the name Mark Swift—claimed he’d forgotten his wallet and asked her to pay for petrol, a request she found odd yet kept speaking with him, a sign he seemed “nice, quite canny.” Over weeks, contact continued with infrequent meetings, then lies emerged.
His daughter was allegedly ill with cancer, and he pleaded for money, claiming a need for shifts he’d missed. Caroline ultimately found herself paying into an account he claimed belonged to his “financial adviser,” Raymond McDonald. Soon after, he proposed marriage, and Caroline, growing emotionally attached, contributed deposits, bridesmaid dresses, a veil, and other small trinkets. The deception unraveled when her mother confirmed the wedding venue’s lack of legitimacy, and Caroline reported him to the police. The resulting debt left her financially ruined, losing her home and nearly everything she owned.
Caroline says, “I have nothing now—except a small car and my dog.”
Another victim, Susan from Wearside, watched the 2024 documentary. In 2010, while going through a difficult period after separation from her partner, she connected with McDonald online. He claimed to have property and the ability to obtain TVs and other items “off the back of lorries.” Over the course of their relationship, Susan estimates McDonald extracted nearly £4,000 from her—some of which originated from other people who had given money to McDonald as well. Facing mounting debt, Susan sought help from a mutual friend, who warned, “Last I heard, he robs old women.” She eventually found herself in a women’s refuge with her children and suffered serious health setbacks, including an aneurysm and Bell’s palsy.
Many victims want dating apps to do more to curb scammers. Susan says there must be stronger safeguards to stop people like him, noting the broader harm to mental health and ordinary families seeking love.
McDonald has used multiple platforms over the years, including Tinder, Hinge, and Plenty of Fish, but his recent activity occurred on Badoo. A spokesperson for Badoo said they cooperate with law enforcement and have special channels to share information about individuals banned due to court orders or parole restrictions. If someone is found to be defrauding users, their access is restricted or banned.
Match Group owns Plenty of Fish, Hinge, and Tinder. A spokesperson explained that they invest heavily in proactive tools, detection systems, and user education, and collaborate with law enforcement through the industry’s first global law enforcement portal to support investigations.
The BBC’s Love Bombed series features Ray McDonald, highlighting how a high-profile fraudster can still operate on dating apps despite legal restrictions. It invites listeners to subscribe for the full story.
Victims insist nothing will deter McDonald from seeking another victim once he’s released again. Susan argues that society must fundamentally change to stop perpetrators like him and protect ordinary people who simply want love and stability.
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